She has blond hair and brown eyes that are so sweet and angelic. She loves being with the family but so enjoys her little friends when they visit. She is an early riser and goes to bed with ease. Swimming is her favorite activity topped with going for long walks on the beach. She will often enjoy just relaxing in the sun and watching people walk by, or birds flying overhead. She is the best friend anyone can have, she is Gracie, my golden Retriever.
So this is how it began. I was 5 and it was just me and mom. After leaving my aunts we moved into an apartment. I remember it being so bright. We sang all the time, on a little navy blue suede 2-seater love seat, “Leaving on a Jet Plane” that was our favorite then, and laughed like 2 kids. We shopped and played. We had a black cat named Sammy whom we adored. I remember being very happy with our little life together and my mom seemed happy too.
Every night my mom put rollers in my long blond hair so I looked my best for school. I had all the fashion a girl could want, toys, and a pet. A roof over my head and a sound place to sleep. I sucked my thumb still and had horrible nightmares and terrors. I would run into my moms room when I got scared, sometimes I could sleep on the floor, other times she would just tell me to go back to my room and go to sleep, or some nights I couldn’t move and would just lay there and scream and cry until my mom came in and tried to sooth me and tell me to go to sleep and don’t be silly. I had to learn to be with the monsters and ghosts and fall back to sleep under the covers. I didn’t want to be silly.
We had a dog when we lived with my dad, her name was Bonnie. She was a Sheppard/Collie mix. Bonnie was an amazing dog. She loved my mom and protected us. True story about Bonnie, when I was 4, she actually walked me to my school bus stop every morning and was there waiting for me when the bus dropped me off from school. My mom or dad never accompanied me to the bus stop. Dad worked and Mom well, I don’t know why. I must have been missing Bonnie so much then, as she was missing us wondering where we went, and as I write this, I’m noticing I’m frowning and my heart aches. Even at 55 years old.
I missed my playroom where I would have tea parties and play with my dolls, and my friends at my house where my dad lived, where I lived.
It was a challenge for my mom. Being a single parent, working full-time, having no help, no money, and dealing with babysitters who said I was a handful. I learned that what I saw and how I was treated was how I dealt with matters or people that hurt me or I didn’t agree or understand how to react. I can remember my mom having a very bad temper, a fast hand, and being very angry, but also happy and fun too. I was blamed for things I know today, had nothing to do with me at the time, I was an outlet for her frustration and resentment for the life she had and has had. You see, my mom was one of many brothers and sisters. They had no food, barely any clothes, a house that was so small there were 5 in one bedroom, boys and girls. She was molested by her brothers and abused by her own mother, Her father, an alcoholic, was at War and they were all left to fend for themselves. My mom doesn’t speak of her childhood very much. She’s learned to live with it, to bury it deep in her mind. Alcohol was a big part of her upbringing. The Friday night card games with her brothers and father when he was home, they all turned into nasty nights of fists flying, yelling, and the house getting torn up, or her brothers tearing up the streets drinking and driving.
We moved 3 more times before we moved into a townhouse but this time we moved in with her boyfriend and his daughter. I had my own room and we had a pinball machine in the basement. It was bigger than any of the apartments we had lived in.
My stepfather owned all the properties we lived in over the short years. When we moved to the townhouse I was sick a lot and couldn’t quite make it to the bathroom when I had to and would be sick all over the carpet. My mom would yell and curse asking why I just couldn’t be good, why I always have to cause problems. I was so apologetic, so sorry for making her work and waking her up. I tried so hard to make it to the bathroom. I was sick a lot then, because my stepfather cooked with spices and it didn’t agree with me. I also believe it was because I was so unhappy.
I was 8 the day I had had enough and wanted to leave and run far away. I was getting ready for school, but the night before my mom said, “Don’t you dare make a sound in the morning!” Of course, when I pulled out my drawer to retrieve my socks, the drawer came right off the rails and BOOM, hit the floor. Oh my gosh, I thought. My mom came running into my room, grabbed a hanger and started hitting me, telling me how bad I am and I couldn’t keep quiet. I yelled, screamed, cried, I hate you, and said I wanted to live with my dad. I called him that morning and he was there at the end of school to take me. I don’t recall any of those events when he picked me up. I remember my father and my stepfather yelling at each other and the next thing I remember, I was at a hockey game with my father. I was happy and excited to be with him.
I will always remember that night, it was and still is, so special to me.
I’m not a workout type gal. Although every May I feel like I have to join a gym. Why May? I join and a month later, nah, I don’t wanna go! Every year! Commitment issues with the gym!
Walking with my girl Gracie, our golden retriever gets me moving. Walking with my music through the trails and letting Gracie run free is my favorite! We both feel the nature and what it gives to us. If I may mention walking is the best for your body and mind.
What is your favorite form of physical exercise?
What food would you say is your specialty?
Well first off, I’m not really a cooker, baker, or anything really in the kitchen. I’m more of a cleaner!
But when my husband came for dinner on our 3rd date he said I made a really good salad!!! 👍
911. What a devastating day for so many.
I was in the middle of coloring my gf’s hair and watching tv, when all of a sudden it happened. The first building was hit. I immediately thought of my father as he was living in the states, my family in Toronto, and thought the whole world was on attack. I pulled my children out of school and we stayed close and when the kids were preoccupied we watched the news all day and night, probably for the next few days. It was a scary time in the entire world.
When I think about a risk, I think of dangerous territory. Risky, will it be good or bad?
I guess the biggest risk I would take is writing and finishing my book and putting it out there for everyone to read, interpret their own meaning or conclusion. It’s risky because it’s a story of my life, my addiction and my recovery. It’s not just about me, it’s about my parents etc.
On the other hand of a risk there’s a rewarding risk, a good risk, and that would be that I could potentially help people by sharing my story that recovery is possible for everyone, no one is special, we all have it in us we just need to ask for help.
Why I haven’t done it? One word. FEAR.
What are you most proud of in your life?
Im proud of the way I am no longer powerless over alcohol and have been alcohol free for 16.5 years!
My story. I keep hearing, “tell your story”. Do I tell my story? Do I expose the truth for everyone to read and have opinions? Do I tell my story for myself to heal fully? Who am I telling my story for? All these questions come to mind when I put my fingers to the keyboard and try, again and again to not start, but to finish my story.
When someone sits to tell their story it isn’t just about them, it’s about all the people around them that had a hand in their addiction, their trauma, their path of success or failure.
I’ve told my story in a round about way but never divulging the entire story because of fear of hurting the people I love or starting something I never intended to start.
It’s time. It’s time to tell the story of how I became powerless over alcohol and how at the same time it made me feel powerful, how it gave me an escape to live through what I was living with and then how it almost ruined me and my children.
I am not sure how I will get this out, maybe a chapter book, or blogs as chapters. I guess the main thing is to start and finish. Continue to heal and help others. Time to unveil myself and the secrets I carried since I was 4 years old. The blindness, and countless nights of prayer and hope.
The name of my book will be, “How did I get here”. Isn’t that the big question we always ask ourselves when we are at our lowest and full of toxins that fuel our brain and emotions. The unraveling of the tied up ball of mess that we had become. Who would be there at the end of the tunnel when we became whole again.
My trauma started at the age of 4, witnessing my father abuse my mom. I walked in on them one night after hearing my mothers cries and screams. I saw her face was full of blood and my dad full of rage. My father saw me and picked me up, brought me to my room and threw me on my bed, pointed his finger in my face with his teeth clenched and said, “You stay in here and don’t come out!” It was that day that I started to self-sooth and stay quiet. The first time I felt scared and alone, but at that age I didn’t recognize those feelings so I began to express them in different ways.
While still at the age of 4, I remember standing in the hallway between my room and my parents, holding my mother’s hand with a suitcase in her other hand and asked me while standing in front of my father, who I wanted to stay with, her or my father. Of course a daughter always wants her mom at that age so naturally I went with her. I believe I would have been scared to stay with my father after what he had done to my mom.
We stayed with my aunt and uncle for a bit until we moved into a basement apartment. My mom had a job selling encyclopedias door to door, this was 1974-75 so that’s the kind of work that people used to do. Funny now as we look back at how times have changed, but for some reason, some people don’t. Ever. While on her route she stepped into a Collection agency office, while trying to sell the receptionist books, the owner of the business came out from his private office, and, while stunned at her beauty, asked her what she was doing selling encyclopedias looking like that. Blushing and defensive, she laughed him off. He asked again. She replied, “I have a little girl I have to support and this is what I have to do!” He asked her if she could type, and how many words a minute. Again, 1970’s, we had typewriters. Anyway, I honestly don’t think he cared if she had experience or not, he was so taken by her. Her deep blue eyes and pale skin, with long black hair, so petite she was, and dressed to the nines. Of course he offered her a receptionist position as long as she came back at 5:00 that evening for a drink. She refused because she had to get home to me, and that was not something she did. Is this guy nuts, I could hear her saying, but he insisted and she did go against everything she stood for as a woman, that night, that job, changed our lives. There was hope and my mom was proud to be able to get out of her sisters and have our own little nest. We could put everything behind us and go forward.
Good morning fellow warriors! Today I’d like to talk about Cannabis and the skepticism and controversy behind it.
The first time I tried Cannabis I was in high school, like some of us and for some maybe earlier in life or for some maybe none at all.
Once out of high school I rarely if ever touched cannabis, until I quit drinking and my girlfriend asked me if I wanted to share a joint. I was very scared at first because I didn’t want to become addicted to it or feel the need to have or crave it like I did with alcohol. Of course I smoked it, I’m not a stranger to it and I was 41 years old and had 2 years of sobriety from alcohol under my belt.
I’m 54 now and have been smoking cannabis since I was 41. I have the knowledge and experience to share the huge difference between the effects of alcohol and the effects of cannabis. Let me tell you what a difference it is!
If you are a newcomer to my page or a continued reader you will know the struggles I had with alcohol. Let me share again.
I was a binge drinker with blackout episodes and I wanted to party or rage all night long. Like they say in AA, One drink, One drunk. How true. We put that drink to our mouth and in a couple of hours we are a totally different person. I didn’t commit to what I would say to myself, keep it cool tonight, or I shouldn’t drink. There was no reasoning with myself because alcohol had taken over any reasoning I could have had. I made a mess of my relationships. I left scars on people who cared for me. I scared people to the point of them being afraid of me. I’m 5’2″ 130 lbs, how could they be afraid of me? I wouldn’t hurt anyone, when I drank to blackout rage I guess I would be afraid too. The worst and best thing about blackouts is we don’t remember what we did or said. Is that good or bad? Both. It’s hard not having clarity and listening to the people tell you what you are like when in that state because that is not the person you truly are when present. We try to understand and wonder why we get to this point. I know why I would blackout. I was terrified of being abandoned, as I had been for years on and off by my mom starting at the age of 8, I was traumatized as a child living in an abusive home, I had an unconscious terror of men, I had been kicked out at the age of 18, not for being bad or in trouble, but because I was in the way of my then step-mothers plans to have a new life and not have me tag along. I married a man who had become extremely alcoholic and abusive to me, our son and daughter. I managed to escape the marriage after 12 years. But, I was a mess! I was lost and felt so alone.
Drinking didn’t solve anything but make everything worse. There was no proper thought to why my parents did what they did, only blame. I was always depressed and my happiness was only temporary, and in general I am a very happy person even with all the shit life has thrown my way. Alcohol almost destroyed me and everyone around me.
Now I can safely say having cannabis in my life has been a game changer. It helps with my mood, my creativity, my traumas, and my understanding. Cannabis allows me to be calm, leveled out and controls my need to be doing something every minute of the day. I have ADD, my mother told me I was diagnosed when I was a child. I didn’t know until I was in my 40’s that I was diagnosed with that condition which explained a lot. I actually just watched a podcast about ADD but that is for another blog, but it was fascinating what I learned from it and makes total sense.
The effects of cannabis are no comparison to alcohol or any hard drug out there. I am assuming because I have never tried anything other than cannabis. From what I have learned and seen or heard from my adult children cannabis shouldn’t even be considered a comparison to other drugs. It is used in so many medicinal forms as a treatment. I’ve never heard of coke or heroin being in that spectrum. Yes, these are available in pharmaceutical form but are still extremely addictive and life threatening.
Cannabis is not an addictive substance, it can become habit forming but you never get the withdrawals or urges to have it NOW as you would with alcohol. I can go on a vacation knowing I won’t be able to smoke and I am okay with that whereas alcohol, not being able to have it, no way would I have gone anywhere. I can go to bed at a decent hour, like 8pm, lol. There are no more regrets in the morning, no shame, just clarity. I can talk nicely and have good conversations with people, I remember everything. I am present and my mood is balanced. If my meds aren’t quite working the way they should on some days and my hormones act up due to my depression I will have a little toke and I am leveled out. I don’t have the urge to stay up all night, call people to let them know what I really think or how they betrayed me. I am not making a mess everywhere I go. I can still participate in activities where everyone around me is drinking and I have my little stash to ward off the intrusive thoughts that come with being an alcoholic and having to still live in a world where alcohol is so widely acceptable and in every corner you turn.
When people say cannabis is the gateway to harmful other drugs, I have to disagree with that statement. It is all in the circumstances some will turn to harder drugs. Look deeper. Who do they associate with? Where do they live? What is their family situation? Those are all factors of underlying issues to be addressed when they say cannabis is a gateway to harder drugs. Never once have I thought of doing heroin or coke because of cannabis. I may have thoughts about drinking that pass in a second but never to explore the dangers of those actual extremely dangerous drugs.
I’ve wanted to talk about this before it became legal in Ontario, but that was a risk. Exposing myself to doing illegal activity. I wanted to share how much cannabis has helped me. Being in Menopause and having cannabis is very helpful for my moods like I said. But it has also helped with my sobriety from alcohol believe it or not.
I always had a hard time saying I was sober because I smoked. Even though we refer sober to alcohol and clean to drugs, it still felt awkward saying I was sober. It felt like I was lying to myself and others. Until my daughter said one day, “Look mom, this girl is Cali-Sober” which means sober from alcohol but a cannabis smoker. Cali comes from California, where cannabis first became legal. Oh My God I thought, that’s awesome! I finally have a name for myself and I love California so how fitting is that! The first thing I thought was, Oh i’m so doing a blog about this and I got to use the line the other day when we were at our favorite hang out with my tea. She asked if it was really tea in there, I get that all the time, Yes, I said, I’m Cali_Sober haha! Yay! I got to use my handle, “Cali-Sober”. You’d be shocked at the amount of people who actually enjoy a J (joint) here and there and respond with a, Oh cool! It’s freeing actually to have a name for what you do and don’t have people or yourself telling you you aren’t “sober”. Sober is what ever you think is your sober. No one else gets to tell you what it is or what it should be. If it works for you in a good way then go for it. No judgement.
So in a nut shell cannabis has been good for me, may not be good for all but it works for me and that’s all that matters, It doesn’t negatively effect my friends or family, it doesn’t make me feel worthless or angry. Cannabis doesn’t interfere with my life or my husband’s or children’s life. It keeps me present and level. It boosts my serotonin when lacking. It helps my creativity and keeps me busy. Cannabis motivates me and lets me see things in a more passionate way, it lets me deep think without the rage and anger. It lets me feel like I still fit in and am able to still “party” because that’s my personality. I love a great party but who wants to be blackout and unaware. I know my limit and I stay in it. I know when I’ve had enough. I can go to bed.
I am prepared for negative feedback. It’s okay. I welcome feedback and discussion. This is what works for me and my time here on earth. Do what works for you, no one else.
This Is Being Me Sober….
As I sit here by my pool in South Florida and watch my pup swim and have her best life, my mind wonders, and I start deep thinking.
Here’s what came to mind.
Is the modern world really that wonderful? Are we better off or worser for it?
Sometimes, we feel so lucky and fortunate to be alive here on earth at this time. Other times, it may be too much.
We think about the centuries before us and how simple it was. Also, how boring it would have been. What did they do for fun?
I wonder, though, this modern world we live in is so stimulating and anything and everything is available that we get bored easier because we want more? When does everything become not enough and leave some of us wanting more?
When alcohol is no longer enough, or we drink more and more to reach that “buzz” some of us add drugs to the mix, which leads to more consumption of both alcohol and/or more drugs to get the stimulation we desperately craving for.
When is enough enough? When are we going to be stimulated by just being?
What brought me to thinking about this was because I heard about a new beverage called Bonbuzz. It’s a non alcoholic beverage that stimulates the brain like alcohol but does not give the negative effects that come with alcohol.
I was so excited to hear about it and ordered it right away from Amazon. But, then, like I said, I started thinking, why am I so excited about drinking this? Do I need to drink this? I’m a little scared, to be honest about taking a drink, but I really wondered why I, we in society need this in our life?
Don’t get me wrong, like I said, I do want to try it, and I think it’s a great no, amazing alternative to alcohol. I’m happy when I read about the younger and some older generations stepping back from alcohol. It’s quite impressive but we have a long way to go, and alcohol will always be available, but it’s nice to see people are waking up to the damage alcohol does to those who can not tolerate it, and for those souls that think they can.
So that’s basically in a nut shell where my mind went. Some pondering on a sunny afternoon in SoFlo.
Thanks for reading!
This Is Being Me Sober
Being Me Sober 