Surviving Soberly

I used to love New Year’s Eve. The partying, drinking, fanfare, the festivities, all the celebration in the air, the nights leading up to the big evening, and, of course, the big countdown. But now those three words, New Year’s Eve bring with it a crushing blow to the heart, mind, and spirit. I can’t even stand to hear them and it was only in the past two years was I able to utter them to people or respond back to people those same words when they would wish them upon me on the celebratory evening when the world celebrates as normal people do. What changed? On New Year’s Eve 2005 my boyfriend of two years, Ruben, died of liver cancer at the age of 53, only two months after being diagnosed. Then on New Year’s Eve 2008 my dad, who I had been estranged from for 20 years, but who I had just started talking to again through email three months before he died, passed away. Needless to say, I have hated the holiday ever since. I never got to say good-bye to Ruben because his dea

Nov. 22, 2018 Dear McKenna: Eighteen years ago I sat down to write your very first Thanksgiving letter when I was 34 years old and you were spending your first Thanksgiving with your mom and dad. I was working as a data entry operator, living with a roommate, the re-make of “How the Grinch Stole Christmas” with Jim Carey just came out, and I had a Tonkinese cat named Chaplin and a mutt, Ripley who charmed everyone. I remember when I sat down to write that letter at my roommate’s computer looking out at his French door windows at his back yard and all the emotions I was feeling at the time – imagining you with your family at Thanksgiving, happy that you were safe and warm in your new home, content that I had made the right decision, and thankful that I could sit down and type those words to you. I had always promised myself that every birthday, Thanksgiving, and Christmas I would sit down and write a letter to you and though I missed a couple, which I reg

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August 17, 2018 Dear Larry and Vicki: I felt compelled to write this letter to you since McKenna just turned 18 and her Adoption Placement anniversary day is the 24 th . I happened to be in the ER on Larry’s birthday yesterday and witnessed yet another event that made me all the more grateful for the fact that you raised my daughter. As I was laying there waiting to be seen in triage for my knee there was a 13-year-old little girl who was in severe pain on a bed in front of me in the hall who had come in ahead of me with her mom. Except from the time she and her mom came until the point of the transfer to Cooks next door, her mom had no interaction with her whatsoever in the way of comforting her, touching her, telling her it’s going to be okay. I could picture Vicki doing all of these things and I’m about to cry as I write this because I just felt so bad for that child. The nurses were so great and I thought about what great nurses you two are. I could picture

August 4, 2018 Dear McKenna: I can’t believe I have a birth daughter who’s going to be 18 on August 15 th ! When I think about the year 2000, it really doesn’t seem that long ago. This has been quite a year for you – another incredible dance recital that I got to attend, getting contacts, perseverance that knows no limits, lots of achievements in your life. You continue to amaze and inspire me with your bravery and limitless strength. I’m so glad you got to meet my sister Cindy this year, something I’d dreamed about since the day you were born. She talked to you when she came to visit me one week before I had you. I wanted you two to meet since the day I found out I was pregnant. The other night the movie “Flashdance” was on and if you hadn’t seen it you will probably crack up at the dance moves and 80s cliches. But when it came out the summer I was 17 it was all the rage. It’s about a dancer pursuing her dream. When it was on the other night I thought of y

From the time I was three years old, I’ve had nightmares. And I remember the very first one I had because it became a recurring one for a very long time. When I tell you what it was you’ll at first think it’s very silly and that it doesn’t sound like a nightmare at all but to a child it very much was. I asked an older woman if I could borrow a pencil and she handed it to me. Then I was going through a tunnel. Then my body became heavy, then light, then heavy, then light. But then it felt like I couldn’t breathe and everything was going in slow motion and she was talking very slow to me, then very fast. I remember running to my parents and trying to explain the dream to them and why it was so terrifying to me but they couldn’t understand. I would continue to have this nightmare periodically. Maybe because I was an abused child, nightmares would plague me all my life and continue through present day at the age of 52. I wake up every hour with nightma

https://www.msn.com/en-us/lifestyle/family/when-fathers-day-is-a-painful-reminder/ar-AAyMt0W

This is depression. I go through this every few weeks. This is the most I've had to cut off. These are massive tangles I get in my hair because I'm too depressed to brush it. Now my hair looks terrible but it feels better. Now I can color it again.