Amy Winehouse And Me

I felt very sad yesterday when I heard that Amy Winehouse had passed away, most likely from a drug and alcohol overdose. Such a talent; a wonderful writer and singer. She was never able to escape the stranglehold of her addiction. At 27 years old it got the best of her, and killed her. My heart truly goes out to her family, and to the people who loved her, yet had to stand by and watch her self destruct.

This has caused me to be extraordinarily reflective today. About addiction....about codependence. About my own life.

If you have never lived with, or loved a substance abuser, you can't possibly imagine the battle they fight every day. Moreover, you can't possibly imagine what it's like to be committed to, and LOVE someone who is trapped by this addiction. Every day is a roller coaster. Some days are normal and stable, some days are like a carnival ride through hell. Then the days turn in to months and years. No matter how much rehab, no matter how long the sobriety, the demon is always there, just below the surface. It never leaves...ever.

Years of riding on the roller coaster make you jaded. Jaded and bitter. You always have to be on guard because you never know what you're going to get. Will today be peaceful and calm, or should I brace myself for the worst? No one likes to be left unguarded, so most of your days are spent prepared and ready for attack. Even after months or years of peaceful and calm, you can still go from relaxed to red alert in the blink of an eye, if the enemy is spotted.

At some point you stop being a partner to the addict, and become more of a guardian or disciplinarian. This usually happens very early on in the relationship, and quickly changes the dynamic of it. The damage this causes is detrimental, and drains the life out of both partners.

I don't think there's much that can be done at this point to turn back time and change my life. Right now I am trying very hard to focus on myself and I'm desperately seeking the motivation I need to return to Healthy Mind, Healthy Body. Also, I am focusing on my children. I'm trying to educate them on the evils of alcoholism, and the likelihood they possess the gene for it.

My life is far from over, but so much of it has been wasted from this disease, and my desire to keep control over it. I don't know where life will take me. I want to be happy. I want my husband to be happy. I want my children to be happy. But I have to face the fact that I can control only one of those things.

Shake Your Tail Feathers

In the animal world, the male is usually the feathered, maned, more decorated of the species. Male peacocks strut their beautiful tail feathers to attract a mate. No lioness can resist the male lion with his stunning mane.

But with humans, it's typically the women who are painted, bejeweled, and decorated. So when a human male wants to impress the world, what has he got? His vehicle.

Today I saw a man who was sitting in a parking lot, under a shade tree away from any stores, near the street. He was dressed nice, looked clean, and a bit nervous. I expected he probably smelled nice too, with fresh after shave. I don't know why, but I got the feeling he was waiting to meet someone; possibly a blind date, or maybe even a secret lover.

Anyway, the man was sitting in a very nice, but rather large pick up truck. It was brilliant blue, shiny and clean; just gleaming in the sun. Not a spot nor bug on it. I figured it was his way of saying "Here I am! Look at me! See my pretty feathers? I must be a very good catch!"

Man, I think of the strangest things sometimes.

My Mission Today:

Trying very hard not to let myself get upset over that which I have no control.

God grant me the Serenity
to Accept the things I cannot change
Courage to change the things I can
and Wisdom to know the difference.

Love Is...

Love lasts forever. At least that's what all the greeting cards and love songs say. But tonight something happened to me that made me ponder that notion. I was driving along and I heard a song on the radio, and it transported me back in time. You know how you hear certain songs, and it takes you back to the place in your life when the song was popular? Well, my mind flashed straight back to 1983; the year I married my first husband. It was our "song". A song about eternal love and bliss, and happiness, and forever. The song was played at our wedding and when we parted ways I would cry and cry if I happened to hear it on the oldies station. Hell, I might have even played it over and over on my cassette player, so I COULD cry and cry. But tonight when I heard the song, it didn't mean a thing to me. I still like it, and I still think it's a great song, but no pings to the heart strings, no sadness, no remembering what I "lost", no nothin'.

This made me wonder(again)...did I ever really, truly love David at all, or did I fall OUT of love with him? If true love really does last forever, is that even possible? Falling out of love??? Can you do that?

I decided you can.

I've been in love lots of times in my life, but I believe I only truly loved four men: my two husbands, Chris W, and Michael. As I confessed during my "Kiss and Tell" series, I will always love Chris W and Michael. Even though they broke my heart, I will always love them. But David....no. I have no love at all for him--none whatever. And I don't think that's because I never really loved him; I think I did.* But David didn't just break my heart. I believe I fell out of love with him because he betrayed me, and lied to me, and caused me four years of unequivocal, pure living hell.

So after some consideration, that is my conclusion. I believe you can love many times in your life, not just once. And with some people, that love does last forever, even if time and circumstances cause it to change. But with other people, it can grow as cold and rancid as a rotten tomato on a dead vine. If given the right mix of poison, love...even true love, can indeed, die.

*It is noteworthy to point out that even after this post, this is still up for debate.

Mary's MILFs

I hate to keep harping on this, but....damn!

Cake For Breakfast

I was just sitting here thinking back to a time--oh, maybe mid 1980's, when every Sunday I would bake a cake. Then, would take a big, honking slice of it to work every day that week, for my breakfast. I weighed around 125 pounds then. Skinny as a rail, by today's standards.

Honestly, a good piece of cake is one of my very favorite things in the entire world. Now, I just LOOK at a slice of the stuff and gain a pound.

Mary's MILFs

It's been a really long time since anyone has been inducted in to Mary's MILF status. In case you are new to this blog, my personal definition of a MILF is "Men I'd Like To Fix". I'm codependent. I attempt to fix people. It never works.

I've been completely consumed with Kid Rock for about a week now. The "Devil Without A Cause" CD has been in my player all week. I love his mix of Southern Rock with a little Rap thrown in. Funny thing is, I keep thinking "He just needs to find the right woman". Like that's going to fix him. Like that's going to make him stop drinking, smoking, and chasing ho's.

Like one of my all time favorite MILFs, Tommy Lee, Kid Rock was once married to the lovely Pamela Anderson. Hell, she couldn't fix either one of them either! Anyway...I've been digging some Kid Rock lately, and I think he's "So Hott", with his bad self.