Carpe Mañana

WordPress just told me it’s my three year anniversary of this blog. Today has been active, lots of old pals posting too which is great, glad y’all are still here.

I am at work and on my phone so this isn’t going to be too lengthy.

Carpe Mañana, was a FB memory from when I was in Santa Fe a couple of years ago. It couldn’t be more fitting for what I am trying to get my head around now. Don’t drink today so I can feel good tomorrow. (Holy shit the few hangovers I have had the last couple of months have been brutal and scary) so drinking has been every 10 days or so but its only fun for an hour and then my stop button doesn’t work at all and I have missed work and other activities due to almost dying from hangovers. I hate it but I keep doing it however I have gotten better about not giving in EVERY time.

I am super thin right now. It’s beginning of summer and I can’t regulate my body heat. Fucking freezing all of the time. I have been restricting too much and that shit has got to change. I became super aware of my size last weekend at my EMT class when I was pretty popular for being the one on the backboard, strapped down and carried. It bothers me a lot that I can’t get a handle on the food. I am just not hungry and forcing myself to eat is torture. It’s not that I want to be thin, I am taking this EMT2 course so I can be on ski patrol next year. You have to be burly and muscly and while I am a strong skier and know I would be good at it, I also have to “man up” and gain some weight.

This is all doable.

I have another motivating factor, I booked a ski trip to Chile for August. I did this sober. It’s super spendy and I dropped a lot of cash on it. It’s a ski camp- I will be getting coached by ex-Olympians and their trainers and it’s something that I have always wanted to do and I am not going to feel guilty about the money I have spent on it. Thank God it’s all inclusive and I will only need money for incidentals going forward. I am excited but kinda scared too.

Oh and I have decided not to date for a year. Another story for another day but it’s been nice. No interest in any of that, I have a broken picker and I am better off right now. One less thing to worry about for awhile.

Here’s to tomorrow 😊

Now what?

I went through a couple of weeks of angry dreams and just feeling a bit pissed off about being sober, then the mass shooting in Vegas happened and my perspective changed. I have a good friend living there, an old roommate I had in my last year of college. He’s a bit of a cross dresser and I learned more about Judy Garland and makeup/fashion while living with him than I ever wanted to. I knew he wouldn’t have been at a country music concert but I had to check anyway, he was safe, just learning of the news as well when I texted him. Spent a few days in horror and trying to not engage in the trainwreck of the aftermath but I couldn’t help myself. What I know now about PTSD and it being healing for people to be able to tell their stories, I felt it was important to stay engaged but also try to remove myself because I am sensitive and could do nothing. I couldn’t read the comments on public facebook posts. What’s that saying, opinions are like assholes? America has a lot of them.

I am curious about the gunman because “what the fuck, dude?” I can understand a hatred for humanity but why would you plan and execute something like this? I can’t even kill a spider so it has never crossed my mind to kill people, well except for myself but that isn’t my point today. I saw something that said he’d been prescribed valium and that if you have an undercurrent of aggression it will make it worse. Just like alcohol makes some people violent instead of sleepy, that’s what the newscaster reported. Definitely addiction played a role in this tragedy. Gambling, pills, guns. Uggh. It makes me sick.

A week or so ago, I went to a Doctors’ Without Borders (Medecin Sans Frontieres) recruitment seminar at the library. Mostly out of curiousity to see what they were about and because I am trying to figure out my next chapter. I’m not a doctor nor a nurse but that doesn’t matter, they need people for other things like communications and filing paperwork. I know I would be a good candidate. This kind of living, in different countries “helping” has always been on my radar since my mom took me to Africa when I was 14. My favorite class in college was Global Hunger. It’s why I joined the Peace Corps, its why I have felt like such a failure since leaving the Peace Corps. The self worth surrounding this feels really terrible. I have been yelling at myself for over 15 years that I am worthless and too weak, not stable enough. I didn’t leave the Peace Corps because I missed television and fast food and modern day conveniences. I left the Peace Corps because I had a miscarriage which resulted in major depression. Drinking helped the depression and an eating disorder into a conundrum of shit for years. I am fairly certain I am pulling out of both quite successfully, neither serve me and while the eating disorder is something I can do something about, I understand that depression isn’t always the case and I have to stay on guard to watch out for but it has been over a year since it has taken me down and I often wonder if it wasn’t just circumstantial. Even though I haven’t been completely sober, I have changed a lot of how I view my surroundings and being.

Then I saw this, in the slideshow during one of the talks from a Mental Health worker who has been on several missions with the Doctors’ without Borders.

Image result for cholera bed images

These are Cholera beds. Yep, a diarrhea hole and it all got really real. Another reason, I haven’t started my application process with this particular NGO is that I don’t have conversational French as a skill, yet. I know I could get there in a few months because languages come easy to me. I’ve just never taken the time for French.

All of this is really just something to think about, I know I am still in the baby stages of changing my life, sobriety and healthy mindsets but I need something to work towards. I am spending this year working a mindless job, meditating, getting my body stronger. No stress of shitty relationships or work. (I had to tell another old friend to fuck off but she was way out of line and it was necessary.) I have a nest egg of money. I’m going to travel again in the Spring after the ski season. I really feel like I am waiting while cherishing my dog to live out the rest of his years and then, I’m off and running.

I went to dinner with my friend that started a kindergarten (and is quite successful now) trying to tell her my interest in the Doctors’ Without Borders. Her younger sister was there and they both stiffened and were like “oh, hell no” but they were more concerned with my safety and got really freaked out when I said, I wouldn’t mind going to Afghanistan. Then she said, why don’t you just start your own NGO after I explained what one was… hmmm, well, I never thought of that. Then she started discussing people that could advise me and how to get a business plan going and how to find financial backers and ways to develop a vision. A bit of hope rushed through me. They see my worth. They don’t doubt their own. They are up for challenges and they totally think I have the stuff too. We’ve known each other since we were toddlers. I would love to start with sewing machines and women and/or men in developing countries to give them a source of income- instead of healthcare. I know there are already organizations doing this, I adore Kiva and what they are doing. I’ve got lots of research to do and questions to ask but I also have lots of free time and nothing too pressing going on at the moment, so why the hell not?

I feel like my life is branching into another direction, that I am getting back to the basics of what I am made of, my dharma so to speak. I am being really patient and not poisoning myself with alcohol, it makes it easier to see the colors change and the hope to come back and the focus of the purpose of my position on the planet.

Whale Sh¡t

Oh good gawd, I hate social media. I hate how it’s used as a weapon in relationships nevermind politics. I’ve been blocked by two people this week and it really has gotten under my skin. While I know it’s for the best that these connections go, I still can’t help to feel the sting that was intended.

I figured out tonight that the ex fiance’ must have been reading my blog because he is gone from Facebook and the evidence shows I am blocked too. I must have mentioned it to him sometime because I have distant buzzed memories of telling him about it. The post Curiosity and Irma was very cathartic to write. I hesitated at some of the details and I guess I forgot that I am not as anonymous as I had thought. Shit. Big fat whale shit. But why the fuck is he reading my blog? Stalker much? Now I wish I would have gone into his porn addiction and the other bullshit but it’s too late and it doesn’t fucking matter. I can’t change the past. I can’t undo anything. I am really sorry.

If I am going to get at the roots of my alcohol dependence and be honest about my sobriety, I feel it’s important to lay it out there. Get feedback, so please tell me if I am an asshole or ignorant. It was a seriously fucked up time and it makes me sick that I hurt him but he played his part too. When I figured it out this evening, I felt this wash of thirst for alcohol flood my body. Ok, it was my brain but I felt it in my bloodstream and nervous system. I immediately thought of the bar that I could run to, get a drink and perhaps a little sympathy or conversation. Maybe I just wanted the sympathy, not that I was going to tell anyone the truth (while drinking) of what was going on but it’s my favorite sunday night bar which I haven’t been to since I have been back and I heard the bartender that I loved is still there.

So, I went to a meeting instead because I knew if I sat there and let my brain fester in the shit, I would have probably gone for a drink. The only meeting that is close to my house is on Sunday evenings. I went the last week. I’m glad I went this week. I’ll go again next week. There are a couple of ladies in there that seem alright. Maybe next time I will talk.

Tonight was combined AA and Al-anon which was fitting for me considering the predicament. I didn’t know they did the combined, it wasn’t like that last week. And ironically enough, it’s the meetings and the building that my parents attended 30 years ago. Al-anon saved my mom’s life. My dad is a 13th stepper, keep coming back kinda guy, never made it past the 2nd step even though he hasn’t had a drink of alcohol for 30 years and regularly attends meetings. He’s the reason I have hated AA but at this point, if I have to go to meetings to not drink then I will go to fucking meetings and I will make some fucking sober friends and I will be fucking happy, joyous and free. 🙂

As for the other friend that blocked me, it’s the chocolate and potato chip girl from the Sitting on the fence post. This one doesn’t really hurt (it just irritates the crap out of me.) I am surprised that the blocking and unfriending hadn’t happened sooner. It’s her normal. There was some drama in our community of friends and sad shit happened and it was really alarming and distressing last week. She messaged me about it but I didn’t respond because the message seemed like she just wanted to gossip and tell me how sad SHE was…. and I thought, “you know what? you don’t get to keep lighting our friendship on fire and expect it to survive,” so I gave it a minute and when I did soften about responding, she was gone. Nowhere to be found on the Fakebook. I hadn’t heard from her all summer. When I did try to mend things awhile back she shot me down. I ate the crumbs in the bottom of the chip bag and half a bar of chocolate in the middle of the night at her house, so definitely worth not speaking to a friend for months. That was her reason, she told me it was the little things.

Today is day 35. I’ve been having these hardcore intense dreams that wake me up at 4:30 in the morning and have kept me up for at least an hour for the last five nights. They aren’t necessarily drinking dreams, mostly about conflicts and I am yelling at people. I’m not a yeller. I won’t even correct people who are being stupid unless they are hurting someone, then I am a mama bear. I haven’t had a lot of contact with my social circle lately because they drink so much and no one has actually called me with an invitation. This isn’t how I expected things to go when I was planning my move back. I thought we’d all be pals but even when I was compromising myself and drinking with my old friends, it wasn’t fulfilling. Something is missing. I guess all those years I was gone really did have an impact. I’m starting over in a very familiar place, my home town and it’s bizarre. I’m trying not to believe the thoughts that tell me I am an asshole, because I am not, I go out of my way to avoid being one because I know some tendencies that I have had in the past. I will remove myself from a situation first or delay my reaction. I just don’t get it. It’s hard when you don’t have the booze. Y’all are the only ones I have told about the unfriending, well, except for my mom.

I was going to take some other folks’ inventory this evening in this post but now I am thinking better of it. I don’t believe that everyone is doing the best that they can, I think that saying should go more along the lines of, everyone is coping the way they prefer (or demand even). Some people have really shitty coping strategies and to see it for what it is and move with it is how I am trying to roll and I have decided I am not going to apologize for keeping a blog. Tara Brach says that most of us live life as a problem to be solved instead of living life as experiencing the mystery of being alive. I think I am happier in the mystery of it all. I saw a meme on hip sobriety today that said, “The belonging you seek is not behind you, it is ahead.” Maz Kanata.

P.S. The title of this post comes from a group session in ED treatment when this southern woman said, “Well, shit.” And I could have sworn she said, “Whale shit” and had no clue what she was talking about… it was funny you had to be there but now every time I hear it I think of a humpback in the ocean taking a dump.

Day 4- writing through the witching hour

going to be a nice office- look at the view- still a bit of snow

The Ski School Director asked me to come up to the resort and meet with him this morning to discuss next winter. It was the best job interview I have ever had (I knew I had the job,) we had to make it formal. He was so nice and complimentary and told me I was cool, that he liked me and I was exactly what they needed for their team of instructors next year. He said he wasn’t going to start me at the bottom of the pay scale because I have experience, even though its been twenty years and if I can get my PSIA (Professional Ski Instructors of America) certification in early in the year, they will raise it to the next tier. I was a level II when I was in college which is difficult to get because of the clinics and testing but I let my dues go and now I have to start over which is fine.

I need some refreshing and I am sure things have changed, God knows the equipment has. We used to teach together at a different resort back in the 90’s but he was out doing private lessons and I was stuck with the running noses in groups of children. I don’t think he remembers me but I remember him.

I came away from that meeting feeling really good, even though I listened to a sober podcast driving up there and was totally riding with the not drinking thing and that this is a good choice. Thankful that I didn’t cave last night, the interview was what was getting me through to today and as soon as I got back to the car to head home, I felt like I should go to the liquor store. Get some wine. Celebrate. See if my girls will answer their phones this evening. I feel good. I was just making all of this shit up about how alcohol is not for me.

So, the phone could ring. I could slip.

I have been thinking a lot about the relationship with my girlfriend that I wrote about the other day. I haven’t spoken to her. I have seen her posts on social media… she’s been to three concerts, two in Vegas and then one here over the weekend and she got mad at me about fucking potato chips and a candy bar because she doesn’t have any money. It’s really amazing that I even ate the things because of my history of anorexia. It just still blows my mind. I know there is more to it. I’m unsure of what the chocolate and potato chips represent to her. Maybe she thought that I took advantage of her hospitality. I don’t fucking know. Now, I am getting worked up thinking about it again.

I did a meditation last night with Insight Timer about letting hurt feelings go, watch them turn into smoke and visualize them going out the window. My bed is next to a window and at first it was hard (because I suck at letting things go) then it started working and it was the last thing I remember until I dreamed that my cat had stolen my keys and put them in her fur pants pocket that I couldn’t get to… little shit.

Anyhoozle, I got a text from the friend today saying she had a check for me from when I worked with her and asked how she could get it to me. I wanted to reply, “with an apology” or “why don’t you just keep it and put it in the potato chip/chocolate fund” but I am still waiting to respond until I can be an adult in the situation. It’s all so incredibly laughable. Fucking ridiculous.

Breathe in
Breathe out

I have another hour to go before the cravings start to wane. I would take my dog for a long walk but the street was so hot on his paws yesterday that we didn’t get three steps off the grass. And it’s hotter here today than it was yesterday. I feel too guilty walking without him.

Sober On! Sober Folk

Back in the game (and not making any promises)

I have a really hard time letting things go. I have discovered that I am usually good at letting things be and not forcing them to be something different which I had to practice a lot on the Camino. Maybe one day I will be able to let things go but for now this is what is working. Let it Be, Missy.

I don’t know what it is about this week in June but for the last three years, it’s been the beginning of another attempt at getting sober (fer realz this time- I say sarcastically.) Maybe it has to do with the summer solstice and the position of the sun and planets keep lining up that way or Father’s day or that I got too excited about the warm weather and am coming off a bender and I feel like shit. I can’t tell you for certain.

My first attempt, I had 6 months. My second attempt, around a 100 days or so. (There was a New Year’s resolution 6 months ago but that only lasted a few weeks but I have had less and less alcohol in my body each time I attempt continuous sobriety) I know what it feels like to feel good. I know how it is to go to parties and not drink. I know I can navigate it. Can’t say I always like it. Can’t say that I am excited that I am back here. I don’t know how any of this will turn out but I can say that I get it. I get what I need to do. I still listen to podcasts about sobriety. I still engage in meditation. Haven’t been to yoga for awhile because I haven’t found a studio nor a friend to go with me, I had a buddy in Nashville that was consistent. My friends in SLC are not consistent with much except that they drink a lot, it sucks but I am going to just let it be and do my own thing. That puts me in a bit of a quandary though because I need social stimulation. I need friends. I like things to do. Boredom is a huge trigger. So, you will probably be hearing a lot from me.

The last day or so, I have been thinking a lot about if I want to do this again and what it is going to entail. My spirit says yes, my mind says no. I got the app Sober Grid yesterday, not sure what to do with it. One girl said she was going to kill herself which made me sad for her and thankful I am not in that place anymore, I hope she doesn’t do it. I’ve had a lot of therapy. I’ve had a lot of experience of waiting things out until it passes. I know if I am craving alcohol that I probably haven’t eaten that day and should do that before I reach for the glass and once I have eaten the craving vanishes. Or have some tea. I know walking helps. I miss walking – the Camino walking- that’s all you had to do that day was just walk to the next spot, never mind your feet hurting or that your legs are spent, you’ll get there if you don’t stop and once you get there it is the best feeling in the world.

I get tired of all the “recovery speak” but still I am drawn to it. I just hate all the cliches and the redundancy of the words. I want new words. I want different feelings about all of this, I don’t want to go through PAWS again. I have some lexapro in case shit gets bad but I have not been on it for months and have only had a couple of dips into depression, they were very shallow dips. I keep it in case shit goes south.

My mom is making spare ribs for dinner. My brother is off being depressed somewhere because it’s Father’s Day and his daughter is out of town with his ex wife. I’m sitting here in my pajamas at 2 in the afternoon. I’m thinking about going to the old sports club that I belonged to as a child and see how much a membership is… they offer everything, tennis, swimming, yoga, weights, all of it. Plus it’s a happy place from when I was a kid. I could spend a lot of time there this summer. I need to keep my muscles and stamina for this winter and who knows, maybe I will make some friends.


Sunday morning and I wish my mom would not have quit her job. Not that she would be there today but she’s been sitting next to me and narrating everything since I got here a week ago. I love my mom don’t get me wrong but I am used to spending lots of time by myself so it is a huge adjustment for both of us. Plus if she isn’t narrating all of the Captain Obvious stuff she is following behind me and putting things away. Yesterday, she took my coffee cup and a pair of scissors that I was still using and put them away because she just needs everything in its place. And all of my shit hasn’t really found its place, it’s piled in the garage waiting for me.

My dog has scared her a few times so that sucks. He’s kind of a gruff guy. I’m hoping the more settled we get the better he will be. And the cats are still recovering and not quite finding their litter box to poop, which is in my room. Yuck.

I’m feeling kind of grumpy as I am trying to write this and I am not sure why. It’s been a little rough because I got sick with the flu/head cold all over again. Moving from the humid climate to this dry ass winter is wrecking me. I feel like a salt lick. I put a vaporizer in my room which helps a bit but man it is DRY here.

As for my friends, most of them are drunks. Or drinking is the central theme of entertainment. Boring. I went to a party last night and left at ten o’clock because I could see where it was heading. I was tired too. Staying sober is not going to be as easy here as it was in Nashville, and we all know how that was going. I just have to find my supports and routine. I’m definitely going to find some meetings and a yoga studio. Thank God the liquor laws are really fucked up here so it’s not as easy or cheap to drink.

I got my shoes for the Camino. I’m also really nervy about it because I have been feeling like shit physically. The move was pretty traumatic as my brother was a major asshole THE ENTIRE 1,900 MILES. So, maybe that’s why I am feeling wonky. I’m still recovering. At least my appetite is back.

Visceral Veil

After I make all my declarations in the morning about being sober and it feels right and I believe myself, there comes a point in the afternoon that none of it matters. Yesterday for example, I had run some errands and made arrangements, had gone through my big pile of crap, had eaten and was feeling pretty decent physically, perhaps I felt too accomplished because I wanted to drink. Even though I am on antibiotics. Even though I have told myself a thousand times that sobriety is my place in this world right now. Even though I have a blog about all this shit, people and emails and connections. Even though I have spent thousands on therapy. None of it fucking mattered for a good hour when the shroud of 4 o’clock came over me.

What was one little bottle of wine going to hurt this one last time?

Um- everything!

Maybe not this one last time but the next, next last time and so on and so on…

It was the antibiotics that triumphed in the argument last night. I didn’t drink, even though I googled “how bad is it to drink on antibiotics” and amoxicillin wasn’t on the dangerous list. I had (another) meal. I went to bed earlier than I have been and it was the first thought in my head this morning when I woke up today, I’m so glad the antibiotics won and I didn’t drink. It’s not really an argument. It’s a cloud of thinking that enters my brain, like a shroud, a veil. Something that is fundamental to my whole missing the point and inability to stay continuously sober. Sometimes it’s been like a kidnapper’s hood where I am purchasing alcohol even though I don’t really want it but I’m doing it. I’m not blind to it. I just can’t see through it.

I’ve known about the 4 o’clock shakes for a while now. I know if I hold on until 6 I am fine and the cravings leave. I’ve gone to yoga, taken naps, watched tv, walked the dog, stayed longer at work during these times and it has helped heaps. I guess what I am looking for now is not a distraction but a confrontation to deal with it and get it gone. I can’t remember the last time I went to church, nor yoga or even smoked pot. I just quit going and I don’t miss them. Ok, I miss them but it’s not like my life is ruined without them and I don’t just accidentally end up doing any of these activities. I want this to happen with alcohol. I get that this is really fucked up thinking but I don’t want to remember the last time I drank. I just want it to be an oh, really? I didn’t realize it’s been that long kind of feeling. However, what did my Grandma used to say? “If wishes were horses then beggars would ride.”

I know it’s going to take some time. If the end result that I want is to be continuously sober then I have to be continuously sober. How easy is that? So easy.

I am going to go under the shroud with a flashlight and see what it is… it’s addiction. It’s body chemistry, emotional response and a habit. Oh look, there’s another metaphor, a nun’s habit. I need to construe a way to uncover my eyes and still be comfortable in it.  And with that my friends, I wish you a happy sober Thursday.

Real Life

I’ve been sick for two and a half days with a head cold and feeling pretty lethargic. I’m hoping to get some energy back and get on with what I need to do.

My brother bought a plane ticket last night to come get me for the 23rd of February and now shit is real and I would be lying if I didn’t say I wasn’t scared and a tad overwhelmed.

It turns out I have some foundation issues with my 70-year-old house. I knew it. I saw the cracks in the walls. My buyers backed out of the original contract but then came back with a cash offer for less because they want the property and to tear down my house. It needs a new roof, the bathroom is a kinda fucked because I had a friend living here ten years ago and she drilled holes like an asshole and there is now moisture behind the walls. (I could have killed her, there was no point into doing what she did, she was just drunk one day.   She was a major drunk and I kicked her out after a month of her moving and living here. Actually, I didn’t kick her out, I gave her two options; get some help or get the fuck out because she would drink two bottles of wine and a case of beer and come in my room at night and tell me what an asshole I was, even though she was living at my house for free. It still just irks me.)  And now the foundation.

The offer is good. It’s not what I was hoping but it still makes my investment in this house a big one. I just got really sad yesterday, not crying sad, just sad to know that they are going to tear down my house. I’m walking around it apologizing to it. “I’m sorry old gal, you’ve been good to me and now I am leaving you and they are going to destroy you.” There’s also reminiscent feelings of when we sold my childhood home and how traumatic that was for me. I haven’t felt those feelings in a while. I drank them away a long time ago. I knew I would get sad to leave my house, I just didn’t know when it would happen. I’m trying to feel it but not let it take me down. Hard to do when you don’t feel well.

Needless to say, I really wanted beer yesterday. Even though I am sick. Being sick never really stopped me from drinking, it was an excuse to get some tequila or whiskey to kill the germs. However, I’ve taken a lot of acetaminophen and I didn’t want liver failure because of a cold. You just don’t fucking know.

I wrote about my job that I got fired from a few days ago. One of my friends, coworkers from that job is five years sober and we are still pretty tight. He’s been a great resource and support for me. He’s about 8 years younger and gay, not girly gay but Brokeback Mountain gay, ha! He’d probably get pissed if I said that but I think you need a visual to relate to him because this is a grim story I am about to tell. He moved to Santa Fe, New Mexico about 6 years ago. He’s in school and just got a promotion at his job that is paying for his schooling. I think he is going to be a substance abuse counsellor or a parole officer, I don’t know which way he is leaning right now. Actually, he’s pretty freaked out about his mama and called me friday to give me the update and a WARNING.

His mama is a few years older than my oldest brother, 56. She used to come to the bars with us back in that time of crazy social worker drinking. I liked her a lot. After he moved, she and I would talk on the phone occasionally, she’s been in and out of rehab maybe a couple of times. Her last attempt to get sober was a few years ago when she had no more options left because her family in Tennessee was over it and she moved out to Santa Fe to figure some shit out and hopefully get a grip. She didn’t stop drinking. She may have cut back but she couldn’t/wouldn’t do it. She would lie about drinking. She would say she hadn’t drunk through slurring speech. He came home from work one night and she was passed out with the stove on, something burning and I guess he was done. Her boyfriend came and got her, married her, and supported her, she couldn’t work and kept the alcohol supply flowing until her health really started failing last summer. They were certain that she had some sort of liver disease and she would fall and break bones and was just a wreck. The boyfriend/step dad claims he knows nothing about alcoholism or doesn’t have the two cents to realize that he was enabling her and while she was going through all of this stuff, he was still bringing the boxes of white wine home.

The beginning of January, my friend and his sister finally got him on board to not supply the alcohol anymore. And for two days, she didn’t have any alcohol. She started to go into detox and by some miracle she allowed them to take her to the hospital. They thought, finally we have some traction for getting her sober, maybe. Well, it wasn’t a miracle because the ER gave her an IV and some librium and sent her home. For four days she after that she was rapidly declining. They called her PCP, who in turn got the blood test results from the ER visit and told them to get her back to the hospital. Her thiamine (vitamin B1) levels were so low and the four days she was home probably did irreversible damage to her brain. I guess that’s the window to guard against Wernicke-Korsakoff syndrome. Look it up, it’s a horrible psychosis that neither of us had ever heard of before.

It’s been three weeks, almost four. He made a secret (it’s too hard to travel and not get people pissed off because you don’t go see them) emergency visit home a few week ago because they didn’t think she would make it. She has a history of an eating disorder and has been malnourished for years (this was why he was calling to warn me) and the alcohol addiction has turned into an even bigger nightmare than he had ever imagined. Being sober for 5 years and watching his mama go through her addiction he was just getting ready to attend a funeral. He knew she probably wouldn’t survive or ever get sober. He basically was waiting for her liver to give out and to brace himself for her to die young. No. That’s not what happened. It’s far worse.

Now she is in the hospital looking at long-term care facilities for the “feeble-minded” is what I think he called it. She has some long term memory recall but she can’t remember what happened five minutes ago. Some days she is verbal and some days she isn’t. She has a feeding tube that goes directly into her stomach but she is dependant on diapers and someone to change them for her. Most of the time she thinks she is on an airplane and keeps saying, “this is a really, really long flight.” And then she will hallucinate that she is petting a cat in her lap. Sometimes it’s a bunny. She has no clue that she is married to this guy that kept bringing the wine home and who is paying for this medical disaster.(Maybe not, we don’t know, he could very well walk away from her.)  She doesn’t even know who he is. It’s fucking hard to hear about and it breaks my heart for her. You’d like to think that she doesn’t really know what is going on and brush it aside, but God, I can’t imagine what a nightmare this is for her inside her soul. How scary and shitty and I never, never want to be in that place. I’m so sad for her two kids and grandkids. She is only 56. She was a really pretty lady who had a lot going for her. This is beyond tragic.

Needless to say, I have woke the fuck up. My old drinking buddy has come to her demise in less than 5 years of when we last sat at the bar laughing and having a “good time” and thinking we had all the time in the world to fuck around and we weren’t really harming ourselves. What’s the worst that could happen? Die? NO. This is almost worse than dying, she could live another 20 years like this, in a diaper, in a care facility. You just don’t fucking know.