I kind of want a cat. This is Humphrey, our neighbor’s cat, who visits us sometimes. By the way, this is an early morning picture of us with Mommy- me- with unbrushed bedhead hair and no make up on.
Not my best look, I’m sorry you had to witness that.
While I do kinda want a kitten, we were traumatized by losing our last pet, our alley rescue cat The Smoose, she had bad health problems at the end and it was really sad. She was incontinent when Bex was a newborn baby, it wasn’t pretty- for her or for us.
Also, I don’t know if I’m responsible enough to have both a kid and a pet right now. I’m afraid it’s selfish because I just want a cute little funny thing to love, but pets are a big commitment. Years and years. They can have fleas and stuff. They need to be taken to the vet. And fed. You have to really think it through. I know this, so I’m trying to look before I leap. It’s not just about putting sparkly party hats on their head and dressing them up in bee costumes and taking funny pictures.
Although that part is awesome.
I think I’m having an identity crisis. If I could explain it to you I would, but I don’t understand it myself, yet.
What I know for sure is that I’m crazy about my husband and my son and they are the most important thing in the world to me, period. Our little family unit, we three.
I have a beautiful life, I don’t want a different one. I feel young and the future is full of endless possibilities. I think it’s because I’m in early recovery and I have almost 30 years of “drinking Heidi” and not even a year yet of non drinking Heidi. I’m not sure if I totally know who she is…I’m sure she’s a better version of me.
It’s a weird feeling and exciting and also kind of scary, to be honest. I’m excited about living the rest of my life sober and happy, but I can’t fully picture that life outstretched, yet. Does that make sense?
I wasn’t drunk all the time, not at all…and to be clear, neither myself or my husband thinks Bex has been damaged by it, which is so incredibly lucky. More than anything, I want to prevent my child from ever being damaged in any way, by me or anyone else. Of course.
But I guess what I’m realizing is that I used alcohol for a number of things to self medicate: for feelings of fear, sadness, anxiety, depression, loneliness, physical pain or discomfort…even for being sick! To “kill” the pain of body aches and that sort of thing…it was my cure all.
I also used it for happy times of course, like to celebrate. Holidays, vacations…because it was the weekend, because it was a festive Tuesday…any excuse, really. And that go to move is gone, it has to be, so I have to find out who I am year in and year out, through the ups and downs of life, through sickness and in health…without that old “friend.” Who became my enemy, but you get it…it’s still weird for me.
But there is nothing that a drink really will make better for me and there is nothing that a drink won’t make worse. I know that, deep down. It’s just a process, a much harder one than I ever anticipated. But it’s worth it. It’s the only choice.
I just need to figure out who I’m becoming for the rest of my life. One day, one hour, one minute at a time. I really want to meet her someday.