There was not an “Aha moment” ala Oprah. My decision to quit drinking was a slow awakening. It was an inability to ignore the overwhelming disappointment I carried most mornings after I drank. It lingered through the day until it was an appropriate time to pour myself a stiff one and dull that nagging feeling.  I wasn’t on benders every day or blacking out by any means, but I knew I could do better. I knew I could BE BETTER. That voice went from a whisper to a shout over the years. Unfortunately reader, I don’t have a crash and burn story to entertain you with. No rock bottom to…

It’s day 69. Time to share what has helped me get this far. Farther than I thought possible. With that said, the more I learn and listen and read, the more I know I am in the infancy of my sobriety. But—even the seasoned professionals with years or decades behind them had a day 1, 14, 30 and 69.  I am a pretty firm believer that, for most problems and situations, everyone has their own path. What works for one person may not for another. We can see this right in front of us when we witness diet culture in all its glory. Endless chicken breasts and brown rice make…

Every few months there was a pile of papers on the counter. I would give it a quick, neat tap daily to make it appear tidy, as if it belonged there. It was comprised of mail, flyers sent home from school (SO. MANY. FLYERS.), bills, letters I needed to respond to, etc. etc. Simple things that I needed to open, organize, sign, sort and recycle—but to me it was absolutely daunting. (Still is TBH) I call it THE PILE. So instead of tackling this seemingly minute chore, each afternoon I’d whisper “tomorrow” and pour myself an afternoon cocktail…which was inevitably followed by at least two glasses of wine over the…

For the last year I’ve had this niggling worm in my head. I picture him as the little caterpillar who greets Jennifer Connelly with an “Ello” from The Labyrinth– because it’s never not a good idea to meditate on David Bowie and the Muppets. He pipes up in my brain in his thick Bri-Ish accent with a “remember the time you…oh that was horrid. You should be proper embarrassed!” He’s so insistent I pay attention he has become a bit of a nag. He’s unearthed a plethora of alarming super 8 films from my life –of which there are an abundance and each one I would rather forget. They are…