You Are Not Alone – Thoughts on Sobriety.

At times I detest that I am an alcoholic. It’s damn inconvenient.  Those are the days that it seems the whole world drinks – except me and perhaps James Frey. I dreamt of drinking last night. That scares me a little, because in my dreams I seem to “forget” that I can’t drink.  Now that’s…

Miscellany that Bewilder Me

Midnight. Last night, my ten year old son said he wanted to stay up until midnight — insisting that he had to do it. — But why? I asked slightly bewildered. “If I do, I will have not cracked my knuckles for a whole day!” he told me in all seriousness.  He has a nervous…

A Poem: Shame Falls Heavily

Shame Falls Heavily I first noticed them arrive as the two women settled their kids and husbands in two rows in front of us in the stands. Then the men were gone. I saw how they laughed playfully, sitting close. One touching the back of her friend.  Whispering to one another.  This was intimate familiar…

this life-long fast [*a poem*]

This Life-Long Fast Just saw a headline in the Huffington Post. Winter Cocktails Gone Wild. And I am choked by my longing.  I can’t explain it easily, but I’ll try. I still crave alcohol.  Not in the way you might think.  Infrequently.  And not when or where you might expect. I go to church in a bar,…

I Thirst [a poem]

I THIRST by M.H. Hanson (originally posted December 7, 2010, updated December 7, 2011) I do not know where the words come from. They are like water that gushes from a spigot. I don’t question their existence.  Only quickly place the bucket of my heart underneath praying my confession. Come. And as I try to catch  it I Hope that the…

I am Not Ashamed

      At the end before I quit completely, I was a messy drunk because by then I had to drink a lot to be messed up.   More than I want to admit I had occasions of being a mess, stumbling to bed.  And many, many Sundays I sat through church with the…

The Slow Crawl of Healing

I have begun what feels like a slow crawl of healing which requires that I carefully take less and less of the antidepressant drug Effexor.  This choice frightens me no matter how much I tell myself that this will be a straightforward and matter-of-fact thing.  And remind myself that I am ready! This day has…

A New Way to be Human

A New Way to be Human To look at the last decade of my superficially is to miss the miracle. Everything flows back to my father who was addicted to a vitriolic and cruel rage and took it out on us all.  His anger was cruel and it undermined what I thought of him.  Though…

What’s a Woman of Leisure? (Not that you asked)

“I just want to be happy.” As I spoke those words to my father on the telephone, I meant them.  I could not remember the last time I felt genuine joy.  I was coming off of three pregnancies in rapid succession and being a person that worked 60+ hour weeks in a rewarding but stressful…

Do you run from your shame?

I have avoided words for a while. I mean my own — on the page — telling me things I may not want to acknowledge.  I find out about myself as I write.  What have I been afraid of knowing, I wonder, as I put off writing day after day? I am uncomfortable with how…

What can I say about two years of sobriety?

I am very happy to be sober.  Full of joy all the time?  No.  Of course not.  No-one is, if they are completely honest with themselves.  But being sober equalizes things for me.  Brings me back to the middle.  I still swing toward sorrow and fear at times.  And though still too infrequent I have…

linger :: slow and sober (a poem)

The main expression of my spirituality has been this little church that I go to, and my sobriety.  The path of recovery and—I’m a terrible Christian and meditating is very hard for me, and I do it.  I do it badly, like I do a lot of things.  I believe in doing things badly.  I…