Autumn Equinox

 

 

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Precious little leaves

Musical colors cascade

Life always through death

Have a great autumn equinox… this is the time to shed all the dead stuff and the sorrow… time to rest and regroup. Get out in nature and reflect and rejoice in yourself.

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via Daily Prompt: Leaf

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Crumb Bum

 

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Image: Pixabay

 

When I was little

My Gram called me a crumb bum

It was a good thing

I loved being a crumb bum. It just meant that was little and eating; I wasn’t worried about anything but what was in front of me.

I think it is possible to still be a crumb bum. I’m working on it.

https://dailypost.wordpress.com/prompts/crumb/

Tentative Detox Stay

 

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 Image: Pixabay

 

When I went to detox in 2005, I knew my stay would be tentative. It was in January and I was just going to clean up a bit so I wouldn’t need so much to get high anymore (cue New Year Resolution confetti). I doubt I am the only addict that has ever done this.

And yes, this was because I honestly thought that I didn’t have an addiction. What I had was more of an ‘inability to ration,’ but once I fixed that, I would be able to do drugs and drink recreationally like all my friends. I was too young, too smart and too pretty to be a drug addict or alcoholic. Things just got a little out of control was all. In five days, I’d be back home and things would be fine.

My first mistake was the whole time I was in detox, I kept comparing myself to everyone around me.

“Oh jeez, listen to this chic. Is she crazy? I am not this bad.”

“Holy shit. I grew up with that kid! He was insane then! Now I know I don’t belong here.”

“Oh my f*cking God, this place is nuttier than a squirrel convention.”

I went to the groups, said all the right shit and then, at the end of my days there – despite being asked to stay one more day because my insurance covered it – called my dad to come get me and I went home.

I got out of rehab, er, detox, on January 4, 2005. My sober date is May 24, 2006. So for sixteen months, my life was an absolute shit storm (more than previously).

Why didn’t standard detox work for me? 

A) Because I didn’t want it to work for me.

B) Because they never let me feel bad or sick. They gave me phenobarbital for my withdrawal symptoms and good food and outside time and even let me smoke cigarettes.

C) I was only there for four days, which is pretty standard.

So did I really, truly detox?

After I got out, the first thing I did was call my dealer. “Hey, I just got out of detox, do you have anything?” I guess that week she had a conscience because she said she’d call me back and never did.

Not that week anyway.

So the universe gave me a shot; it was on my side. I went with it and even went to an NA meeting with my detox roommate with her big fake boobs (she got hooked on Percocet after a boob job). One meeting was all I attended. Maybe it was all the hugging after the NA meeting, but I didn’t like it.*

After a week, I was back at the bar and drinking. I wasn’t taking any pills… yet. I was convinced that I could drink because I drank in the past (before getting hooked on pills) and everything was fine! (Did I mention my insanity?)

It wasn’t long until I started drinking heavily, popping pills and snorting cocaine again. This time twice as hard as before I went into detox. I even got involved with a man I knew a while before and we were great together, but in March of 2005, he left my house after starting an argument. I didn’t think much of it until I found out that Monday that he went home and shot himself in the head.

My drugging and drinking escalated; despite not being right in the head before then, I was really twisted inside after that. I spiraled hard and fast unaware that the forming vortex would swallow more lives than just mine.

I eventually turned my life around… but this story needs to be told. So I decided this time frame will be the focus of my memoir.

Thanks for letting me share.

*NA meetings work for many people. They do not work for me. Some NA’s go to AA, some AA’s go to NA. I am not trash talking any program.

https://dailypost.wordpress.com/prompts/tentative/

Disobey The Norm

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Image: sabacooperative.org

Could we be getting any more ridiculously politically correct? Holy hell, everyone is offended by everything these days. What happened to not liking something and just getting on with life?

Anyway, since the new norm is to be habitually offended, I decided I am going to disobey it. I used to be offended long before it was a trend and after careful thought realized I was miserable all the time because of it.

I now think for myself! It is beautiful and wonderful and I feel so much better forming my own opinions rather than getting in that row of sheepy sheepletons.

No offense to anyone who follows a trend, crowd, idea, etc… it just hasn’t worked for me and I am trying something new.

How is everyone doing these days? If you are in an area that got hit by the hurricane, I am especially rooting for your triumph!

Have a blessed day.

https://dailypost.wordpress.com/prompts/disobey/

It’s All Finite

 

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Image: DAMSteelman

School started back up and if you are a regular follower of my site here, you know that means I won’t be around as much. 😦 Bummer I know… I will try to get on here a couple times a week. I thought my one class was going to be a piece of cake, and the material is fairly easy, but the amount of time I have to invest in the class is more than I anticipated. But the good news is school is finite like everything else in the world.

 

Well, you know what they say about assume and all.

So, finite is the word of the day.

Can we think of even one instiance of legitimate infinity? Everything is finite except for the universe I believe. Inclulding the accesibility of this site here. I just read it will be down for maintenance for a week! That kind of works in my favor because by then I will have a good handle on my classes and know exactly how often I can post here. Hopefully, I can get a couple entries pre-written.

A POEM

Cruel, finite love

Your shallow grave sooths my soul

There were others, you know

By the way, you can find me on Facebook at Darlene Steelman McGarrity… I write stuff on there, too. But when you request me, be sure to tell me you’re from WordPress or I most likely won’t accept the invitation (lots of spammers on FB).

via Daily Prompt: Finite

Memorize… what?

 

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Image: Pixabay – Giralt

So, in 1996 I had a stroke (brought on by taking too much Ultram) and was dead for about somewhere between 20 minutes and two hours… my six-year-old daughter found me, and after the EMT’s showed up and worked on me for nearly 30 minutes, I regained a pulse. I also gained some brain damage. After a week long hospital stay and two weeks of grueling occupational therapy, I was sent to live with my mother because I couldn’t be trusted to take care of my children.

Everone was afraid I’d start dinner and burn the house down because I forgot the stove was on or even worse, have the baby in the bathtub, get distracted by the phone or my reflection and let my baby drown because, ‘what baby?’ Or maybe I’d drive to the store with the kids, forget I went there with kids, leave the kids there and then think I lived in Oklahoma on a llama farm or something.

My short term memory was shattered. People have compared me to Drew Barry’s character in Fifty First Dates which was cute until I actually saw the movie and I wasn’t as amused as most people.

“Jesus Christ, I’m not that f**king bad,” I’d snap in annoyance. I was finally able to watch the whole movie about a year ago and laugh at most of it.

My long term memory was fine. My memory about grade school, getting picked on, and my abusive cheating husband at the time were all grooved in my brain like a brand new tire tread. I still remembered I was married (miserably), that I had four kids and amazingly every word to any song I ever heard prior to 1996. But it ended there.

I couldn’t remember anything new. I couldn’t remember that I told my mom a story (from my long term memory) every twenty minutes. I couldn’t remember that I just ate or just drank coffee or just smoked a cigarette. I couldn’t remember that the bedroom I occupied at my parents’ house was mine; my old bedroom – my childhood bedroom – was the back bedroom and now my little brother had that one. How the hell did I get downgraded to the oversized closet with a bed?

Oh right… I hadn’t lived at home since 1990. I had no clout there. I was the dysfunctional eldest daughter; the oldest sibling who could never quite get her shit together… ever. And now I was back like the beer stain everyone thought was permanently scrubbed from the carpet.

I moved out of my parents and got my kids back in 1999, and while I had great intentions and did my best, it all fell apart in two years and then I was back in a new level of hell with less kids and more drama.

Fast forward to 2017, twenty-one years later, and I can honestly say while keeping weird lists, writing down directions to a place less than five miles away, writing down on my hand where I parked the car and other things that I should remember, it is a little less daunting, but still embarrassing.

“No, it isn’t a tattoo. It is directions to my car in the parking lot.”

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http://www.wowwhatwhy.com

There are even times I am talking to someone and the thoughts I have in my head are disappearing as I am trying to convey them. I’ll be mid-sentence and just wrap it up because I literally forgot what I wanted to say.

:(I have tried Ginko Biloba, changing my diet, more sleep, and lots and lots of brain puzzles.  Every day I do word searches and even play my own ‘memory games’ in an effort to make my brain stronger, but honestly, all I can really ever do is memorize lyrics to songs.

 

That’s it. I mean, yes, I remember other things. But I have to work really hard at it. But I don’t have to work so hard to remember music. Never music.

Maybe I should sing everything I want to remember.

Take nothing for granted my friends.

Do you have any tricks to remember stuff or are you like an elephant?

Peace and love to you all.

https://dailypost.wordpress.com/prompts/memorize/