the uphill climb

I was going through my old Yahoo emails and found some old "anonymous" comments from my friend Christine on my old blog. I moved from that blog to this new one because I needed to make a break from that old 'I'm the wife of an alcoholic' thing. Anyway, I went through a lot of these comments, knowing exactly which ones were from her and remembering all the time she listened to me go over and over "what was wrong with me today."

Over the weekend, something happened that she would have gotten a kick out of and I picked up the phone to call her. I wonder when my brain will REALLY register that I won't ever hear her voice again.

Another thing I did, was click into the old blog and randomly read some things. Michael Michael Michael. bitch bitch bitch. I am grateful to the people who have been reading my blog- because damn I was a mess. Fastforward to now- and well, I still do a lot of bitching. I just think I'm less of a mess- or maybe I'm a DIFFERENT mess.

A pretty mess.

A hot mess.

A pretty hot mess.

Yeah, I like that.

I was also reading those days and how much peace I tried to have then. How I tried so hard to just get through every day without slitting my wrists or hitting my husband over the head with something really heavy. I'm different now. Somewhere along the lines I realized that it wasn't a mountain I wanted to die on.

It wasn't worth the climb, because you never GET to the top of the mountain when you are dealing with active addiction. You just keep climbing. Just keep struggling.

And you

can't

ever

stop.

Well I've stopped. My feet are planted and I'm just waiting for the tram to take me to safety. I should not have to want to die to get out of a marriage.