Ok, not really.

The weekend I fell in a drunken stupor and split my face open in the gravel terra firma known as Lake Havasu was much worse, but this weekend had a few low points that kept me from my usual sobriety banter you’ve come to know and love.

I would have been tweeting, facebooking, blogging and proliferating my infamous love for sobriety if I hadn’t woken up Saturday morning to a devastating urge to consume donuts. Actually, what I was hoping for was a family morning spent giggling with JM and the children over a maple glazed custard filled piece of deliciousness from Crown Donuts in Lakeway.  Because every moment counts, right?

Sadly, it was not to be.  In a manically driven attempt to control an argument between my husband and my youngest daughter over the eternally disastrous condition of her bedroom, I intervened (read: butted into) their ‘discussion.’  For the parents in the audience, let me just say that it’s never a good idea. End result–one of those screaming arguments between JM and I (much less common these days than they used to be) where I end up bruised at the bottom of a giant cliff not quite sure how I got there (you should have seen the other guy!) Dammit.  Just when I was getting so spiritual.

The details are irrelevant.  They usually involve some meaningless argument over towels, or donuts, or who didn’t fold the laundry in the dryer. What is relevant is that we are two people (JM & I) who are sober, busy, probably stretched a little thin, and momentarily at odds. After the storm had passed (read: JM & children go to get donuts and I stay home sulking cleaning the laundry room) I just felt empty inside, and it’s hard to write about that with any perspective when you’re right in the middle of it.

Nevertheless, I think it’s important to write about. The problem I sometimes have with blogs in general and recovery (wherever you take your from) is that people only tend to talk about the good stuff. But what happens when things suck?  Luckily, drinking and using have not seemed like solutions to me for many years, but the emotional hangover–now that’s something I know a little about.  Have you had one of those in sobriety? It’s when I’ve gone so far from my spiritual center that I’ve taken everyone in any near proximity hostage and condemned us all to a little misery.  What a waste. Luckily, it can serve a great purpose in my path, by reminding me that I’m human, I’m fallible, and I’m still capable of great harm.

After a much needed Intuitive Energy treatment at Lake Austin Spa, given by my little psychic noodle, Alice (I’m not kidding…her powers are seriously amazing, and just know, I am the original skeptic) I was feeling better and woke up this morning ready to hit the blog and tell the story.  Alice worked a little magic on my 2nd chakra, using her hands and her heart to open up the physical, mental and emotional places in me that were struggling.  Addiction, and the many pains that cause it, and the many pains it causes, literally sits in our bodies.  All it takes is one strong thumb to poke around and land on the spot where things are stopped up.  In recovery, I’ve had to learn to address this, because if I don’t, it just might kill me.

So this week’s posts will center largely on resentment, and I’m pretty sure most of you will find something to relate to.

Happy Monday morning!