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Die Another Day
I think I’ll find another way There’s so much more to know I guess I’ll die another day It’s not my time to go Reading of the NSA domestic spying scandal, and of the fiery Highland Avenue 4 AM...
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Sick F@ck
Spring, 2005: I’m sitting at the kitchen table, a plate with a few remnants of toasted bread in front of me. This is one of my props, because as usual I have no appetite. One of my more clever tricks:...
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Better Every Day
Once I believed that when love came to me It would come with rockets, bells and poetry But with me and you it just started quietly and grew And believe it or not Now there’s something groovy and good...
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Goodbye, King Cone
Oh we never know where life will take us I know it’s just a ride on the wheel And we never know when death will shake us And we wonder how it will feel Saturday night, over 75 beautiful sober men and...
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A Phone Call From Who I Used to Be
The phone rang after midnight, just a couple of hours ago, a rare occurrence in our home – and I ran to answer it, wondering who the hell would be calling at that hour, irritated but worried that...
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I Don’t Ever Give Up (warning: graphic content)
I’m no kid in a kid’s game I did what I did, I’ve got no one to blame But I don’t give up, no, I don’t ever give up It’s all I’ve got, it’s my claim to fame I’m no fighter but I’m fighting This...
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Testing Grace
So, the personal wreckage cleanup begins again. Does anyone have a backhoe I can borrow for a few days…or weeks…perhaps months? I wonder how my husband tolerates this. I know there must be those...
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Thank You, Thank You, Thank You
Today, my disease is incredibly angry. It wants me to be sick. It wants to put me in compromising positions. It wants me, quite frankly, dead. I spent several hours yesterday in a waiting room at the...
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Peanut Butter & Angels
Last week, in an attempt to pull myself out of the spiritual stupor I once again found myself in following my relapse, I posted what was an attempt at a light-hearted Facebook status update: My husband...
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The Innocent and Honest Ones
In the eighties, when I was still a rabid atheist, there was a song I used to listen to in secret. It was a beautiful ballad by the Irish band In Tua Nua called “The Innocent and Honest Ones.” I’d...
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God’s Perfect Love
So…here I am again. Twenty-five days clean and sober, yet still neck-deep in paranoia, shame and remorse. I’ve been avoiding writing about this, praying it will begin to fade as it has in the past....
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The Wolf is Getting Married
So, the struggle continues. Paranoia, fear….battling daily…no, hourly…the consequences of my relapse. I’m fighting them, however, with a sturdy well-stocked arsenal of love, prayer, recovery and...
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Let’s Talk About Sex, Baby
For many years now I have lied to myself. I loudly proclaimed, “I am a meth addict.” I proclaimed with equal fervor, “I am an alcoholic.” Friends would inquire why I was so open about these...
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This Isn’t Everything I Am
Today, I have fifty days of recovery: 1,191 hours of hard-won, rigorously honest, Higher-Power driven recovery. And yet, my disease continues to whisper inside my head, trying to shake my confidence...
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Sometimes it’s a Bitch
Hello, all. It’s been a while since I’ve posted a blog entry, and because of that I’ve received quite a few messages of concern from readers wondering how I’m doing . The answer is “I’m doing as well...
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Brave and Crazy
Today is day 97. If you’ve read this blog before, you know that I’ve struggled with sobriety for a long time. Since 2002, specifically. During that time, I’ve been both a chronic…ie, daily…user, and...
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Tale of Two Tinas
I need other addicts and alcoholics. It’s as plain and simple as that. My recovery would be nothing without the friends I’ve made in recovery: so many people who are dealing with their own struggles...
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From the Neck Up: Dual-Diagnosis and Proud of It
The first time I attempted suicide I was eleven years old. I took a swig from a bottle of Mr. Clean, scrambled under my bed with my mother in pursuit, and refused to come out despite the intense...
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SCARLOVER
Ugly inside of me Taught me of beauty I wouldn’t trade that work of art for all the silk of perfect skin… i’m a scarlover too and I’m full of scars like you – Maria Mckee, “Scarlover” I stare at it in...
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