How to Love a Drunk: Bits of My Story are published and #FFWgr

How to Love a Drunk When you’re an alcoholic you get to tell your story  and admit to your illness at the oddest moments. There is usually no time to prepare emotionally or to get the words just right.  What comes is what comes.  I actually enjoy these unrehearsed moments.  The questions I’m asked push…

When I Was A Falling Down Drunk: A Love Story

It’s only been a few days but I feel it.  In the hidden, hard place where I keep my little girl heart that learned to be scared too early.  That place in my heart has shifted. It might be that I am writing out the story of how I once was a falling down drunk. …

The Dust Bunnies and the Broken Hearts of Mental Illness

I say the things aloud. It is an effort. I want to make them come true. “I will clean today. I will cook dinner. I will go to the bank.” Even as I speak the words I know how unlikely it is that I will be able to do more than sit here. Breathing under water is life…

{Chasing the Light}

Writing about sobriety puts a pit in my stomach today. I am sober but many days this doesn’t by implication mean happy.  Getting dry isn’t a formula for bliss.  It is only a pathway toward discovery. When I was a drunk I didn’t feel sensation – there was mostly emptiness.  I didn’t feel the ache…

A Bad Poem About My Sobriety

SOBER. Antonyms: alcoholic, drinker, drunk, lush, souse, wino I’m Sober today. But I’m clutching at it. And not contentedly. Control is an illusion. I’m powerless, that I can confess. Today, when the whole thing, my duct-taped heart, feels like it’s falling apart and I’m heart racing tired, knowing I should never get.this.way. I think, “If I could I’d smoke then, … What?” But the broken down lungs no longer cooperate. I want…

Free To Love One Another or Afraid to be Free?

“if you loved me you’d let me die…” I went with a reluctant, heavy expectation to the Maundy Thursday service. My child’s words ringing in my ears.  My need was great. It hit me, sitting there.  I was in the middle of the Community of God, but felt utterly alone.  And it was all my fault. For I have…

Calm Down and Breathe

I’ve learned something profoundly important about myself.  I thrive off difficulties. It’s a tendency of addictive persons. And though it’s not all bad to have this penchant, it can be bad.  There’s good too, to be into problem solving, endlessly considering three steps ahead, to be that type of person that is wondering about the…

[I Asked God for More] than Motherhood

I woke up on Sunday full of lament. The depression that had been crushing me was now a throttling choke. I woke up straining. Strangled and gasping for air, for truth, for relief; I woke up. I woke up on Sunday already giving up. Begging for it, the answer to the question depression always asks:…

All is Grace, Part One: the Story of Sober Me

Have I turned any other direction but to sit with my pain? No saint here, bound and praying. I couldn’t quit all the vices, they were many, without God’s quiet stillness ushered in. A moment of need and prostrate humbled, obviously being a fallen down drunk, I opened. In later years, when life wasn’t still,…