Happy Easter

Yeah, I know I’m a day late but really every day is Easter.


I was up at 5:30 am this morning. Up in my tower with the lights off and a candle glowing, just waiting for the sun to come up. I could hear the waves breaking on the shore and a soft dawn breeze whispered over the rooftops of my sleepy village into the windows of my cupola (dome). It was simply perfect. Yesterday was a celebration of resurrection and rebirth, yet this morning with the dawn sky turning pink and the song of the birds welcoming the new day, I realized every day can be a celebration of my own resurrection. With every new day, every new minute, every new breath I have the amazing opportunity to change my life. It is my choice what I do with this opportunity. Do I ignore it? Do I squander it? Do I choose to make my life more difficult? Or do I choose to make my life what I want it to be, what I dream it could be. The choice seems so easy. So why is it so hard? When I’m drinking, alcohol steals those choices away from me. I may think I’m making my own decisions but I’m not. Alcohol always has its say. On day 9 of abstaining, I’m making my own choices. I’m looking to the future to what I want my life to be in 6 months, 1 year, 5 years….. and today I’m going to start making tracks towards that future. When I drink, alcohol fills my nights and days but when I’m not drinking there is a void, a space that is not filled. Instead of going back to drinking I think I’ll start filling that void with my dreams and fill my time with working toward those dreams. Here’s my list of dreams:

1. Write a book and have it published.

2. Have the means to live in both Mexico and Colorado and travel when I like.

3. Have close and loving relationships with my family.

4. Have a life filled with people I love and who love me.

That’s it. Although I already have the bottom two to a degree, there is always room for improvement and there is always room for more people to love. Now it’s time to make a game plan. I’ll keep you apprised of the steps I make towards these dreams and the outcomes. I challenge anyone reading this to do the same. Let’s go get our dreams.

Today I’m out there doing my best to turn my dreams into reality.

A Love Letter

One of my followers commented the other day that I hadn't mentioned my Co-writer in a while. For those of you that just started reading this blog and haven't read back through the archives, my Co-writer is God. Now that may freak some of you out and you may not believe and that's okay. I don't get all preachy and most of the time after reading some of my posts you'll probably find it ludicrous that I claim a writing partnership with Him. Does He know about this? But every time I sit down to type one of these blogs I do ask Him to guide me to write what He wants me to say to help myself and whoever is reading this blog. I think I've been ignoring Him lately so today I put off writing until I really felt that I was listening to Him. So here goes
I've noticed on MMlist (Moderation Management mailing list) that many of you are going on this journey for the first time. And I've noticed that some of us that have been on this journey for a long time are getting discouraged. I should mention that I am on Day 6 of abs'ing. Usually by now I'm euphoric and my mind is racing and I'm going to save the world, or at least myself. That's not happening for me this time. Although there is a lot of extraneous crap going on that is adding to this, I can't blame my despair totally on that. I've become skeptical. I've been on this journey for at least 4 years. I no longer believe that this time is going to be "the time" I figure it all out. I still hope it is but I don't believe it is. So in the midst of all this, I asked for inspiration and I was told to take a letter from my Co-writer. (If you don't believe just pretend it is from me.)

Dear you,
Please don't give up. You have come so far and I am so proud of you. Do you know how hard it is to even admit you have a problem? So many people don't. I am so glad that you did. I was worried about you. I wish I could make this easy for you but if it were easy it would be too easy to go back to where you were. There are lessons you have to learn along the way to make you stronger than you were. I know they are hard and I know they are painful. Remember when you were a child and you touched a hot stove, it hurt and you cried but you never did it again. I wish this was that easy. I wish I could keep you from that damn stove but I can't. You have to do it yourself. You keep coming back thinking this time it won't burn you. But it always does. I don't like to see you hurt. Please keep trying to stop. I will help you. You can do this. We can do this together. You don't know how strong you are, but I do. I know you will learn to stop hurting yourself if you just don't give up.
I wish I could promise you that all your problems will disappear if you just stop drinking, but they won't. People that don't drink have problems, too. I can promise you that you will be strong enough to handle your problems. I can promise you that you will have the peace of mind that you did your best. I can promise you the pride in being the best person you can be. Can I promise you happiness? No. Nobody is happy all the time. Happiness is temporary. But I can promise you contentment that lasts.
I know you are doing your best.
I'm not giving up on you. Don't you dare give up on yourself.
I love you. I want you to love yourself.
Love always,
Me
P.S. Today I'm out there doing my best not to edit my Co-Writer.

Facing My Angels

Angels and Demons, get it. Last night I walked down the calle to our closest friends' casa. I've been avoiding them. They were there the night of the debacle even though they're not usually part of the bar crowd. Actually, pretty much every expat was there because it was a special party a friend was giving to welcome her son who had never been here before. I certainly made it memorable for him. Even if they hadn't been there they would have heard about it because this is such a small community and when you go on a two week bender someone is bound to notice and let everybody know. Even, Nancy, the Mexican girl that own the little tienda (store) across the road from us called our housekeeper, Gaby, to see if we were alright because our roll down gate had been down for two days. I'm ready to go back to the mountains where if a bear ate me nobody would notice I was gone for months. Anyway, I walked down to our friends and they gave me a big hug as I walked in their gate and asked, "How are you?" And somehow that was worse than when those other people asked. Because I knew they really cared and it's hard to know that you've caused people who care about you concern. It's hard to acknowledge that you are in need of concern. Tomorrow I'll have more friends over for dinner and I'll mix them Mojitos but I won't have any. Thursday I'll have another friend over for dinner who is going back to Canada at the end of the week. He's been down here for 3 weeks because he had surgery and I was supposed to be helping him out but I didn't. Today I'm going to a bar (I told you everything takes place in a bar down here) to meet a guy to talk about fixing the computers at the school for the kids, something I forgot I was supposed to do. I'm trying to get back those two weeks. Wrong. I can't get back those two weeks. I'm trying to make up for those two weeks. I can't do that either.
Today I'm out there doing the best I can to like the Kary of today.

Facing My Demons

I was invited to two different parties last night. I really, really didn't want to go to the first one. It would be attended by none of my close friends, but a bunch of the people that had witnessed my embarrassing evening in which I had to be carried out of the bar. Of course, the guy who had helped with the carrying would be in attendance. To say I dreaded it would be putting it mildly. But I had to go for two reasons. First, the girl that was throwing it is a real sweetheart and has been supportive of every fundraiser we have done and she was welcoming her husband and dog from England. Second, the cap'n said I had to go and damn it he was right. I couldn't cower in my casa forever.
So I painted up my lips and rolled and curled my tinted hair. I put on a short little tropical print dress. I lifted my chin and pasted a smile on my face and I strode in. Here's how it went.
"Kary!" from everyone, "How are you?" (With wiggling eyebrows and little snorts in my imagination)
"I'm great," from me.
"What would you like to drink, Kary," from my lovely hostess
"Do you have diet Coke?" from me.
"What? I've been working out all week in case I had to carry you home," from the guy who helped carry me home.
A gentle laugh, from me, "I think I forgot to thank you for helping me out that night. Thank you." Smile! Smile! Smile!
And that was it. There were a few more references to working out from the guy but nobody else said anything except to marvel that I was drinking straight Diet Coke (If they'd been my close friends they would not have been surprised, since my close friends see me do this on a regular basis).
I looked around and surveyed the crowd. The guy that was almost catatonic in the corner, the girl that weebled when she walked, the man next to me who kept laying his head back and closing his eyes. This was all before 7:00 pm I'm not being superior because I realize I have played every one of these parts but now I realize that for a little while I gave them somebody to compare themselves to and say, "At least I'm not that bad." I also realized that one thing I risk if I do sober up is the "friendship" of some people because then they may look at me and no longer feel comfortable with themselves. That will be their loss, not mine.
So I left the party the same way I came in, with head held high and a smile on my face and a big hug from the hostess. Then I went to watch the moonrise with my friends, who also drank the "good" stuff while I drank Diet Coke. They didn't notice and they didn't care.

Lessons In Humility And Compassion

It's been a very rough month. I won't detail every humiliating experience but let's just say one required me being dragged by the cap'n and a relative stranger out of a bar, into the car, and then up the steps of our casa. I have the bruises to remind me. I think God is trying to teach me a lesson in humility and compassion. You see, I've always comforted myself that whatever my faults, I am a kind person. I've never purposely done any act to hurt someone. I guess that's not good enough. I guess I have to think kind and humble thoughts too. I've always had an air of superiority. Always nodded knowingly when someone begged off from an engagement with an excuse that I figured was just a cover for a hangover or drunk. Always been able to raise my eyebrows at the drunken foibles of others. Always been able to blame the deficiencies in my life on someone else. Always been able to say, "Hey, at least I'm not as bad as so-and-so." All that has been taken away from me because now I'm the one that makes excuses, I'm the one that people point at when they reassure themselves that they are not that bad. I'm the one to blame for what is missing in my life. It's time to accept that. It's time to redeem myself, although I know that the memories of past actions are never completely erased from other people's mind. It's time to start making this a success story. Is this rock bottom? I pray it is.

Yesterday....

Report on yesterday. I did go to the soccer game, but first I had to pick up Babs (Barbara) and first we had to meet up with the gang (Sophia, Rhonda, John and Nancy) at Camote's Popular (local bar)  Then we all drove over to ChuburNA (that's how they pronounce it). The cap'n drove over and high centered our PT cruiser on a railroad tie on the soccer field and blamed  Babs and I for not spotting it. and he was pissy the rest of the night. It took 5 Mexicans and a 6 pack of cervazas to lift us off.We all left at half time and we dropped Babs off  and had a few rum and cokes and I danced the two-step with Jack on Bab and Jack's roof top to George Jones.  I have no idea how I ended up in my bed this morning but it sounds like I had fun.

Kary May Signing In

All of my blogs so far have been written when I was sober or hungover, today I thought you should see the other side. I have been up since 4:30 am and have been drinking wine ever since. It is now 7:40 am and I'm already wondering how long this day can go on. I have great plans about this glass of wine being my last or sobering up and having friends over for dinner. Probably not going to happen. This glass of wine at my elbow makes me feel that all of this is okay. I love her and I hate her. I wish I could snap my fingers or waggle my nose and be sober, sip, sip. I will report tomorrow on how today went. Did I lay on the couch and read all day (my favorite fantasy) or did they prop me up somewhere beside a jukebox? There is a 7:00 pm (which in MX means it will start somewhere around 9:00 pm)soccer (futball) match between the kids in Chelem and our rivals in the next village, Puerto Chuburna. I probably won't make it. Even when I am completely sober I don't stay out after dark, especially down here where drunk Mexicans on tricyclatos could wander into your path. I do have to pat myself on the back that I was the only sober gringo at the last futball match. The others looked like they were having a lot more fun and in post photos I look like a haggard un-fun person among the merry-makersl
So today I'm out there doing my best to make this my last glass and thanking God for the Bk Sp and Delete buttons.