She's having my baby.

Stand down, I'm not really having a baby. But, I've been sober for nine months as of last Sunday. It feels at once like a long time and no time at all. I'm proud, I'm grateful, I'm acutely aware of how far I've yet to go.

I feel good about a lot of things, though. I'm a good person with a good heart. I'm genuine, compassionate, and tender. I'm learning to recognize and rectify the things I do that don't serve me well. I'm working on not taking responsibility for the people around me, on focusing my energy on things within my control.

Someone very dear to me relapsed last night. Not just relapsed, but "gave up on recovery" altogether. It breaks my heart. But I can't do anything about it. He's just not ready yet. All I can do is pray that someday he will be.

Whenever someone falls off the wagon, we say "They just haven't hit that bottom yet." It terrifies me. Have *I* hit that bottom? I was pretty lucky compared to a lot of people.

I know next time, I might not be so lucky. I know I don't want to find out. I know I don't want to go back out there, don't want to lose the things I've gained in recovery, don't want to go back to being that girl again. And I don't have to, so long as I keep working, keep praying, keep going to meetings. It's my choice.

Half Measures: Availing Me Nothing since 9/2010

One of the first things I learned in AA was "The only thing you have to change is everything." So I quit drinking, dropped some old friends, made some new ones, started focusing more on my relationship with God, started working the steps, started emphasizing acceptance...

But what did I really change?

Monday night I got into a heated debate with a fellow addict. I declared and explained my beliefs. Then I started questioning them. I knew WHAT I believed, but why did I believe it? Because it's right? Because it's convenient? Because I've been twisted by bad experiences?

I went to my sponsor and explained what I was feeling, and he ordered me to conduct a thirty-day experiment. I balked. "But that goes against who I am!"

That's when it hit me. How am I supposed to grow and change if I'm holding on to who I've always been? Who I am is a drunk. That's why I joined AA. But I've been trying to work the program while still being the same girl I've always been. And that won't work.

"Some of us have tried to hold on to our old ideas and the result was nil until we let go absolutely." I've heard that HUNDREDS of times and somehow I just never got it.

No more half measures. I'm going to stop justifying my behavior with "This is who I am!" I'm going to start trying new approaches to life and forming new beliefs.

For the record, I pretty much have no clue what I'm doing. But no idea is better than the wrong idea, right?

The brighter the light, the deeper the shadows.

We are so rude to God.

When someone gives you a gift, you express gratitude - whether or not that gift is the one you wanted.

But when God gives us a gift, we don't hesitate to bitch and complain that it's not what we wanted. And we often reject the gift entirely.

I received some incredible gifts this weekend. I made new friends in another recovery fellowship, who invited me to attend their meetings. I learned a new way to look at things, and I learned something about myself I hadn't previously realized.

These things occurred because I met someone special. Someone with whom I shared a connection before we ever met. But due to bad timing, we had to go our separate ways after 24 life-changing hours together.

Life is strange, and beautiful, and sometimes cruel. But as painful as it is to say goodbye, we have to see how lucky we are to make the connections we do. There are people become a part of our lives - a part of us - for a reason. They may only stay an hour, but the impact they have upon us lasts forever, if we let it.

Life is just a chain of experiences, and the ones that hurt the most are often the ones that we can learn the most from. We have to take what joy we can find and leave the pain behind.
Sent from my Verizon Wireless BlackBerry

The best love song I've ever heard was from my sister to me.

"Can't Stand It" by Nevershoutnever. "Let's sell all our shit and run away to sail the ocean blue. Then you'll know that my heart is true, yeah."

And then it was "Unaware" by My Favorite Highway. "Don't let it pull you down, don't let it burn you out, you're so much stronger than you know...if you feel the sudden urge to escape, a fast car and your favorite mix tape, runaway..."

I <3 my baby girl. She knows who I am and who I want to be, even when I don't know.

Mother's Day.

It IS a happy Mother's Day for me. In a few hours, my own mother will be home, and we will have steak and salad for dinner and I'll give her a pedicure while she watches whatever she wants on her new cable TV. I am lucky - to have a mother, to have a mother who loves me, to have a mother who loves me close enough by that I can show her my appreciation with more than just a card or a call.

But not everyone will have a happy Mother's Day, and the lack of sensitivity to this frustrates me.

Valentine's Day gets all the attention. Renamed "Singles Awareness Day," billions of lonely people get to bitch about V-Day and draw faint vapours of guilt from happy couples around them.

What about today? What about the unspoken millions who never knew their mothers, or whose mothers were, for any number of reasons, undeserving of honour and celebration? Or the women who have yet to become mothers, despite an intense longing to do so? Or the women whose children were conceived but never born, putting them in a limbo state between motherhood and not?

As a tragic overthinker, I can find happiness and heartbreak in every situation.

I'm not trying to make anyone feel guilty. I, myself, am choosing to focus on the celebration of today, and not on the lingering shadows in my heart. But, as we lift the mothers of the world up to God in prayer today, let us also ask for peace and comfort to touch the hearts of those who can't fully celebrate today.

Little Love Story #6: "Power Is Sexy"

Once upon a time, there were two sisters, eight years apart. For a long time, they didn't get along, but once they moved past that, they were nearly inseperable. One week, they saw Revenge of the Sith at the theater four times, because the older girl was infatuated with Hayden Christensen. The younger girl agreed that as a powerful villain, he was sexy. This same week, the family acquired a fancy new vacuum, which delighted the younger girl. One day she rolled the vacuum into her sister's room. "Jax, do you love the vacuum?" "It's a pretty sweet vacuum, but I don't know if love -" "But it has power! See?" She pointed to the POWER sticker. "Look, just because I think power is sexy, doesn't mean -" "IT HAS A HEADLAMP!" the younger sister shouted. "Does ANAKIN SKYWALKER have a HEADLAMP???" The two sisters collapsed together in a hysterical heap.

Happy May Day!

I know some people are conflicted, but personally, I think it's a glorious day.

I lived in Flagstaff in 2001. I remember a semi trailer that sat in a field alongside I-17, just north of Phoenix. There were streamers waving from poles on each corner, and stencilled across the white side was "THE YANKS ARE COMIN, BIN LADEN - KISS YOUR BUTT GOODBYE!"

It has taken nearly ten years, but we have delivered, in an operation nearly elegant in its precision. Osama Bin Laden is dead. The message is clear: no matter where you go, no matter how long it takes, WE WILL FIND YOU. Justice is inescapable.

A cloud that has hung over this country for almost ten years has dissipated. Now, I'm sure no one thinks the terrorist threat is over. But I'm confident that our military is steeled for the retalitory blows we anticipate. I believe that we are in no greater danger than we have been.

I don't speak for those most deeply affected by the September 11th attacks. But we as a nation were attacked, and I believe each of us was wounded. For me, the death of Bin Laden feels like the debridement of that wound, that now it may heal properly. We have closure.

This is not just a victory for Americans, but for Muslims. Not only because the vast majority of Al Qaeda's victims post-9/11 have been Muslim, but because Bin Laden has soiled the Islamic faith with his atrocities.

I feel no guilt at celebrating the death of a man-turned-monster. Justice has been served. A reign of terror has ended. Though I don't expect we'll see immediate effects, I have no doubt that this is a turning point in our war on terrorism.

I'm also pleased that his remains were disposed of respectfully. There was a point when he was without sin, just another child of God. Though the lesser parts of us may have wished for capture, torture, for a body dragged through the streets, I'm glad that we rose above that. That we showed the nation of Islam our respect.

I respect those who disagree with me. It's okay if you don't want to celebrate this death. It's okay if you don't feel safer in a world without Bin Laden. It's even okay if you're disappointed that his death was quick and clean, or that his remains weren't desecrated. But please respect my right to my opinions.

Let's not use this as a reason to fight. Let us be one nation, under God.