Hello world!

Here I am, single mama in recovery.  Those are not necessarily words I ever thought I would be using to describe myself, but this is where I'm at right now.  Being "in recovery" is powerful.  As my friend Ashley says, "People who aren't working on improving themselves are pretty sick, indeed."  This year it has become really clear to me how important it is to define myself.  I used to be one of those types that "hates labels," but now I can more easily recognize that kind of thinking as "codependence."  (Why label myself when I am a chameleon?)  Out of chameleon-hood, and on to self-definition!

Right now I have two mom's groups I'm attending, one for crunchy, community-building types, and one for trauma survivor types.  Happily(?), I am both.  Membership in each of these groups is bringing distinct gifts, while bringing my "personality defects" to light.  For one, it is much easier for me to be open with the moms in the trauma survivor group, though I'm having a difficult time becoming close to any of the women.

Ahhhh, the dilemma of the child who grew up in trauma--"best friends" who live across the country and the world.  It's a lot harder to befriend our neighbors & community members, right?  Because we are so afraid they will pull back our mask & discover the "real" us.  Of course, we define ourselves the way the abusive members in our life have defined us.  It was only last weekend my "dry drunk" grandmother was calling me "worthless," and only last weekend I was trying to pretend it didn't bother me... But it's okay that it bothered me.  It was scary, it was abusive.  I don't have to go over there again, and right now, I don't think that I will.

I'm somewhere between 10 days and eight weeks as a single mama, depending on your definition of "single."  I put it at somewhere around a month, I guess.  It's messy because, rebellious anti-authoritarians that we were (well, I was, & he is) we said "Marriage is not for us!  We don't need a piece of paper to declare our love!"  So we aren't divorced, but we are living apart, and trying to remain on good terms as best we can.  It was my choice to break up.  I'm working on being gentle & loving towards myself, and part of that is embracing where I was two years ago.  I love that girl, but it is becoming more and more clear how lost she was.

In November my therapist recommended I check out an Adult Children of Alcoholics (ACA) meeting, and the next morning I tried out my first one.  I know I cried that first morning, for lots of reasons, including the healing I knew I was headed towards.  Perhaps crying was the first part of my healing, or maybe going to the meeting, or therapy... who knows.  I have been walking a healing path since about February of 2008, when I picked up "The Verbally Abusive Relationship: How to Recognize It and How to Respond" and Eckhart Tolle's "The Power of Now."  Such eye-openers.

It feels so good to be blogging again!  It's been about five years, wow.  Thank YOU, reader, for being here with me.

Which brings me to why I started this blog today... At my Wednesday mother's group I expressed that I have been having a really hard time with compulsive spending & eating, especially because once I am compulsive in the morning, I go for it in the evening, and then the next day, and next day, and soon one day has turned into a week, into a month... so it goes.  Though I have not touched drugs or alcohol since becoming pregnant with my daughter in August of 2009, they told me I am "thinking like an addict."  They said that what I was describing is exactly what happens when an alcoholic falls off the wagon and is suddenly on a six week drinking binge.  Lightbulb moment!

The next day was St. Patrick's Day.  My St. Patty's Days of the past have involved varying levels of sad debauchery.  My lowest point was senior year of college (my loneliest & most isolated year), when I stayed up all night with an emotionally abusive alcoholic pro-life Republican I was sleeping with, went out to the bars at 6 am together, & he proceeded to hit on my friends (in front of me).  (The pain tolerance level of adult children & grandchildren of alcoholics.  Ugh.)

This year I found myself driving home watching all the college students dressed in green, baby girl in the back seat, & missing the taste of alcohol.  I decided it was time to hit my first AA meeting.  I'm proud that I went, as I'm proud anytime I'm taking proactive steps to take care of myself.  I am going to try out different tables & meetings and find the ones that work for me.

I know there is a better world out there for me and my daughter, and I am on the path to find it.  And to create it.

Go mama bear, go!