At my last post, this orchid only had buds. Life is like my blooming orchid. Resilient flowers growing from severed stalks. I know it has been awhile, but I have not forgotten you my dear readers. Today my husband has not picked up in 589 days. Life has been busy. A combination of regular day-to-day and …
Continue reading Her Story Love in Addiction
Amidst an epidemic, my husband is 540 days clean from heroin. Until we have seen someone's darkness, we don't really know who they are. Until we have forgiven someone's darkness, we don't really know what love is. -Marianne Williamson This morning my husband went somewhere before work to get a space heater for his office. …
Stopping by Woods on a Snowy Evening -By Robert Frost Whose woods these are I think I know. His house is in the village though; He will not see me stopping here To watch his woods fill up with snow. My little horse must think it queer To stop without a farmhouse near Between the …
Continue reading White Christmas
She is a friend of my mind. She gather me, man. The pieces I am, she gather them and give them back to me in all the right order.-Toni MorrisonI had to take the day off of work today. Not in the fun, play hooky, vacation way. Today was not that kind of summer day. …
It has been a while since I have written. I know in early recovery this could mean many things, including bad things. It could mean relapse. My husband, by the grace of God, is still sober. In mid October, he will be one year clean. I have not written because we have been enjoying a …
My husband and I laughed today. We laughed at the absurdity and insanity of addiction. Sometimes in recovery you must laugh. Because if you don't, you may find yourself crying all the damn time. In California my husband speed balled. He smoked dope and meth together to create a potent high. When he did this …
Days Sober: 257 It is June 25, 2017. I am lying on the beach in Plum Island Massachusetts. My husband is next to me on the blue cotton quilt we have always used as a beach blanket. I look out to the jetty, it's gray and irregular rocks like long daggers, outstretched blades on either …
Continue reading Sober Summer
My heart is free falling through space It feels light Airy Weightless Plummeting, spinning, somersaulting Released from gravity's pull Like an inmate from her cell Free Falling I ponder how it will land I don't see bottom But I know that it's there Will it land with a thud Will it be a crash Or …
My husband is an addict. Click, flame lights, tinfoil crackles, sharp inhale, lungs fill, smoke billows, brain floods, neck goes limp, pupils constrict. A man sits alone in a car in a concrete parking garage. The dome light inside of the car paints shadows across his face. Deepening the dark curved grooves beneath his eyes; …
This post is going to be all over the place, because, well, all over the place is how I feel. Balancing, teetering, floating, rocking, falling, standing, sinking, rising, I walk upon earth, through life. One day at a time. My husband and I celebrated some personal victories last week. He is number one in the …
Continue reading One Day at a Time: Surviving The Colonial Fist
