A Litany of Cooks

"We're going to be 9 people and Auntie is going to have 20."

It sounds like a litany every time a holiday comes around. My mom lists the number of people she will be cooking for and how many her sisters will cook for as well. I assume this is interesting for her although sometimes I've wondered if it's a competition, too. I find it a bit irritating although I couldn't tell you why.

Yesterday we spent part of the day with dearest one's family. We are over 50 people if everyone shows up. I always think of my mom at these gatherings. How she would be cooking up twice as much food as my in laws do. I have often admired how there aren't many left overs when my husband's family gets together. Food seems to be secondary to visiting. As long as there is enough to go around then all is good.

When I talk to my mom later today she will want to know what was served and all the details. I guess the difference between us is that I am not a cook and she is. I threw out my old and forgotten spice rack a few months ago and have only replaced a few since then. My mom has a cupboard that houses only spices. All 100 of them. Darn. The more I type the clearer it's becoming that I have many unresolved issues when it comes to my mom and food. Typed myself right into a corner again.

Within Me

"I'm going to have a stupendous, wonderful, incredible day!"

We're standing in line at the checkout counter as he tells me this and I look at him while thinking a rather sarcastic, "I'm happy for you."
There have been wind warnings for days now
and windy weather makes my lungs hurt.
My shoulders haven't stopped throbbing for 48 hours and my fatigue level is off the charts. I cannot seem to muster a good attitude, or gain perspective, I simply want to sleep.

He'd asked me earlier how I was and when I replied that I was tired, it was windy out there, but otherwise okay, he had countered with, "It's a beautiful day outside."

I look outside at the 50km/hr wind gusts and think rah, rah, rah.

I paid for my purchases and we parted ways.
I sat in my car feeling irritable as hell.
I watched him walk to his vehicle and get on with his stupendous day.
In all the time I have known him
we have yet to have a conversation
where I felt like we related
as one human being to another.

I put my car in gear and get on with my day.
This time, as I'm heading into the next store,
I see someone who is dear to my heart,
who has been pivotal in my journey.
Someone I believed who was placed in my path
several years ago by God, for my good.
I haven't seen him in nearly six months.

We ducked out of the wind and chatted. I told him about my summer, the stress, the emotional pain, the incredible opportunity for growth and change. He looked at me and said warmly, "It's exciting, isn't it?" His question caught me off guard and I stopped to think about it. I told him I would never willingly sign up for that kind of pain again
and I was continually humbled by the opportunities presented to me for growth.
Tears threatened to overflow as gratitude washed over me.

As we parted ways I told him that on a day like today, when it was so windy, I was grateful for warm house to go home to. He kind of harrumphed at me and I had to chuckle at how my irritation had faded.

Next stop was my home group AA meeting.
Just before the meeting started,
another group member came in.
He took one look at me and said,
"I'm going to give you a hug."
I told him I was really tired
and he told me with a measure of compassion
that the tiredness would pass.
It was comforting to be treated
with kindness.

Three different encounters,
two felt life giving and one soul sucking.
Although it hasn't escaped my notice
that's the second time in less than 10 days
where someone's happy, happy outlook
has gotten under my skin.
Oh, don't you just love it when you realize once again,
that the problem lies within you, not within them?!

Here's hoping I wake up rested and pain free tomorrow.

Looking Up

Every time I open one of my daily reflection books I see my bookmark which says, "Look up and live." It's such a good motto for recovery. It's probably not what the power company had in mind for its use when they distributed it but, hey, it works for me.

I've had the worst attitude lately towards someone new in my life.
Came pretty close to flipping them the bird last week I was so, so pissed off.
Without the 12 steps I'd still be making excuses for my reaction.
Fr. Charlie reminded me this week that recovery gives me choices.
Healthy choices.
Like opening my mouth and saying my piece, not depending on
the other person to change in order for me to have some peace.
And while I can bitch and moan with the best of them,
and sometimes even bitch and moan that the 12 steps beckons me
to take the high road,
in the end I'm glad I have choices.
Besides, it kept me from sticking out my foot
and tripping this person as they walked by me.
Damn, that was close.

Wallowing Close To The Cesspool

Some days it's frightening how much I can wallow in stinking thinking. Like today. I was still chewing on my session with Fr. Charlie yesterday when I woke up. Chewing hard enough that I gave out stay back and no one will get hurt mega vibes to dearest one and youngest son as soon as I saw them this morning. I can have quite the intense conversations in my head, and play either side, given enough room to think. Actually that's a lie. It was a one sided conversation full of anger and resentments and all out war. Not good at all. Not that that stopped me. Oh no. I went my merry (okay, not so merry) way thinking nasty thoughts all the day long. Dearest one was smarter than last time this happened (which was the last time we were in town together...hmmm there seems to be a pattern). Last time he wanted me to cheer up lickety split. Not a good thing to say to a woman who is acting for all the world like she has PMS times ten.

Today he let me be.

It's such good and blessed thing that it was me thinking nasty thoughts and not him. Because today our family doctor taught dearest one how to inject the long acting freezing into my shoulders so that my pain can be managed at home instead of making the 150 km round trip for relief. I suspended nasty thoughts during the needles. There's nothing like an inch and a half needle shoved in between bone to make one have a little clarity.

The clarity, however, was not long acting.

I stewed through lunch and grocery shopping and all the way home for that matter. Part of me wanted to blow a gasket (which my van did several weeks ago, literally.) and part of me wanted to state my thoughts calmly. In the end I did neither. I'm pretty good at being a valiant crusader and a chicken shit simultaneously.

I came home and called my sponsor. I got her answering machine. So then I called my mom. And the conversation we had gave me other things to think about. When I hung up I prefered thinking about them rather than resuming my nasty thinking. I find it a bit funny and a bit sad that getting sidetracked by someone else was all it took to short circuit my internal war. There's got to be a lesson in there somewhere.

I'm hopeful that one day I'll write that I recognized my stinking thinking and did something about it before wallowing for 12 hours first. That indulging in it is like taking three steps backwards towards a cesspool I no longer want to wallow in and so I let go of what wasn't mine to carry and got the courage to say what I was thinking without trying to destroy another in the process. I'm not there yet, obviously.

Tonight rehab can't come fast enough.