I think I’ve had this title before, but I’ve written almost 78 articles, I’m bound to have some repeats.

The past two days came with a few healthy doses of perspective and a spoonful of my own medicine.

I love to preach. I tell a mean story about how I have had all of these revelations and I have learned so much about myself and blah blah blah. While that is true and I am fascinated by the fruits of my labor (not just not drinking, all the woo woo shit I do on the daily), it’s not quite that dramatic.

I am still the same girl I was 78 days or 7.8 months ago. It doesn’t matter that I’ve lost almost 20 lbs or that I have quit biting my fingernails. I really did think those two things were going to make my life better, but it’s still me. And my life is better, but not because some-thing is different.

It’s because my perspective is different.

I have mostly been a glass half-full kind of gal. I like to think of this world as all sunshine and rainbows and puppies tiptoeing through the tulips. And, mostly my world is. But, that’s because I have discovered the holy grail of happiness…wait for it…

Choice.

It’s a choice everyday to find the good in things, even the things that we would normally say “no thank you” to. I have faith that the Universe, or God or whatever you like to call it, is on my side and has a plan. If it’s meant to be, it will be. If it’s not, something better, cooler and more amazing will come along. I have proof of this on so many levels over the past eight months you wouldn’t believe me if I told you.

Some people are not going to like to hear this explanation. And I get it. I was totally there. And it’s okay to stay there for a while, but I just chose not to live there. I choose certain things throughout my day now that gives me the results I want;

• I don’t watch the news anymore because it fills my head with negative images that (mostly) I can do nothing about

• I go to yoga even when I don’t want to because I know I will feel better after and self-care is my number one priority

• When I’m tired, I rest and I don’t feel guilty about it. All those little, unimportant, low-priority things will be waiting for me when I decide, if ever, to tackle them

• I gave up on hating myself. Cold turkey. I put myself in my loved ones’ shoes and looked the fuck around. The reasons for which I was so hard on myself didn’t hold a candle to all the reasons they love me.

• I made a new mantra: Receive & Release. I receive all the good things this world has to offer me and I release all the overwhelm and fear out in to the world. (I can’t help but picture the scene from The Green Mile when all those gray bugs come out of John Coffey’s mouth in to Wild Bill. Gross but it’s sort of therapeutic.)

These articles/posts/entries never turn out the way I think they are going to. I sit down most nights (I know I’ve been slacking) thinking I know what I’ll write about and then it turns in to scenes from The Green Mile.

I’ve been asked over the past few days what I’ll do when this is over. Will I continue to write publicly? Will I drink? Will anything change? Of course, the answer is I don’t know…because I don’t. It’s not here yet.

I’ll know when I know.

I’ve sort of lost my mojo this week.

I can’t seem to find enough energy so that I don’t want to take a nap in the middle of the day or go to bed when it’s still light out.

I don’t have a dramatic explanation for this except that I am being forced to learn something new that does not cater to my strengths. It’s sort of cool because I am acquiring new skills, although I’m not sure when I’ll ever need them again.

I am pretty familiar with being physically tired, but being mentally drained is a whole ‘nother animal. I feel like I could sleep for days.

However, the very illuminating and enlightening thing about becoming aware of this is how much room I have created to even have the energy to tackle something like this in the first place. Sound sleep has become my new normal which for sure has been the secret to getting shit done I didn’t even know I had to do.

I think about all the time I always had that was wasted getting stuck in my own head about shit that didn’t need medication (remember that?). To be honest, I didn’t think I could do more than I was already doing.

Turns out, I can.

Funky day.

I sometimes struggle with how much to share on here for fear of judgement. I am human after all.

I struggled today. Not physically, just inside my head…and let’s be honest, that is really where all my struggles originate from. It was nice out today…like “have-a-cocktail-at-the-grain-bin” nice.

I got home from a long day of working on my computer to the sun shining on my face while I watched the dogs frolic in the yard. It’s basically my own little piece of heaven. And I thought to myself that it would be really nice if we grilled out and had a couple beers on the deck tonight.

And had it stopped there, it would have been fine.

Instead I went in to a three hour freak out session about how I was freaking out about it. It started pretty innocently; just that it crossed my mind that a cocktail would be nice but then escalated in to “I won’t be able to have only one or two and then I wouldn’t go to yoga and then I wouldn’t get anything done tomorrow and I would start this cycle all over again” and wah wah wah wah.

By the time Dale got home from work two hours later, I had worked myself up in to a full-on pity party. I could hardly get myself up to take our “spring stroll” around the gardens to look for signs of life. It’s like I had already had the drink, gotten drunk, went to bed, woke up with a hangover and felt guilty about it.

All I did was think about it for Christ’s sake.

I knew right then I had to make a decision, so I 5-4-3-2-1’d my ass and drove myself to yoga.

Even there I was still consumed by what might happen in 9 days. It’s the strangest thing to feel like there is a deadline and that I’ll be presented with this weird decision making process over a beer on the deck.

It’s exhausting.

And it’s fucking 9 days away.

Jesus H. Christ, get a grip Katy.

But, luckily, yoga did exactly what I needed it to do; cleared my head; a reset if you will.

Here’s the thing, I don’t know what 9 days from now will bring AND I have no reason to think that whatever it is will be bad. It might be totally easy and innocent and different. And if it isn’t, then I have all of these 90 days to look back on and decide if it’s important to me or not.

Duh.

But, here’s the other thing, this could be about ANYTHING. For me, I can get myself in to a frenzy about a lot of things; work, money, relationships, weight, parenting…basically life. And while this journey has allowed me to address my drinking specifically, it isn’t really about that at all.

It’s about the fear.

At the bottom of all of the shit we wade through on a daily basis, any negative feeling we have is ultimately about fear.

The fear of:
loss or the lack of security,
or failure,
or judgement,
or success,
or whatever your little heart desires.

I have found when I get in to these cyclones of despair, two things work: yoga and asking myself, “what’s the worst that could happen?” No decision I make is going to hurt anybody and no one will die if I fail at a task.

It’s been interesting to write about this, but also so therapeutic. There is a certain amount of fear that goes along with being so vulnerable. But it’s only the fear of judgement and while I love all of you, this is not about you. This is about me and my life and my story. And whether I write about it or not, it’s still floating around in my head to deal with.

I have felt so grateful for those of you that have reached out to me with your encouraging words and gestures. And because of you, I have to believe there are a few of you that don’t feel the need to connect but have found something here to relate to.

If you’ve stuck with me all these weeks, thank you.

If it weren’t for you, I’d have been slamming margaritas at the grain bin tonight.

For real.

Ever hear that quote, “love knows no bounds”? Well, apparently, neither does head lice.

Yes, that is how we started our Spring Break today. I had all these plans to get a ton of work done today while also entertaining my kids. Lofty goal, I know…every school break starts this way in our house though.

Great expectations followed by humbling circumstances.

I thought we’d escape the lice outbreak. Why? Because I’m a brat and think I’m invincible. Turns out, I’m not.

Lice=1, Ripps=0.

However, according to www.centerforlicecontrol.com, IT’S NOT MY FAULT. (Look it up…that’s their tagline. Sort of phenomenal marketing. I totally clicked.) Lice really don’t give a shit who you think you are.

It’s hair nor there to them. (<< I thought about that one for a while.)

It’s amazing what kind of time you find when forced to do something. I, of course, didn’t have time to go to yoga, go for a walk, meditate, make a salad for lunch or balance my checkbook, but somehow I found the time to treat my daughter’s hair (1.5 hours) and 18 loads of laundry (6+ hours and still counting).

Time is a fickle thing. I have written about this before and I probably could until end of time (I’m just full of them today). But it’s just something I have a hard time wrapping my head around. It is truly the one thing we can’t make more of yet we waste it like it’s renewable.

I may be the most guilty of this.

Think of these 90 days. I have never done, or rather not done, anything for three months without being forced to, naturally or otherwise.

I remember thinking in years past when I’d get to the end of February, “had I stayed with my resolution, I’d be ‘this far’ by now.” It’s so surreal to think I can actually say it. And feel pretty damn good about it.

I feel much less nervous today than I have the past few. I think this is just going to be a constant ebb and flow. And what I’ve learned is that it probably is for everyone, I was just never paying attention.

I find myself wishing not for something ‘better’ or to ‘be’ better, only that I have the strength, tenacity and courage to deal with whatever comes my way.

I’m feelin’ pretty confident about that these days.

It’s been one of those weeks…and it’s only Tuesday.

Nothing has happened…I’m just sort of blah. I feel puffy and lazy and unmotivated. But, alas, there is always a silver lining. Finally, I have learned…

PMS.

You’d think after, give or take, 288 months I would get it. But, only after journaling for three months was I able to actually track my cycle. And this time I recognized it the first day, rather than after a week of feeling like a loser.

That’s just one of the epiphanies that has come out of this little sojourn. I’m sure I’ll be able to pin point many more as the days and weeks go on.

Another has been the before bedtime ritual I have created simply by writing this blog. I have come to look forward to the time I spend quietly typing while cozied up under my fuzzy blankets, drinking tea. Without even so much as a passive aggressive request of my family to leave me alone. No one bugs me; everyone, even the dogs, seem to respect my space and time. It’s freaky deaky. And although I have many reasons to keep writing, this will probably be the one to seal the deal.

Certainly at times it’s been a chore more than a hobby, but it’s been refreshing to have something to be accountable to, even if it is just to prove to myself I can do it.

I took the kids to Indian Lake today for a little hike. Not that I have never done that, but the times have been few and far between for sure. And it would have most certainly turned in to lunch and beers with a friend and her kids instead of the ice cream break and stroll by Black Earth Creek like it did. It was just the three of us and even with the grumbling and whining, it turned out to be just what we all needed.

A little sunshine, a little fresh air and a little blood pumpin’. Three ingredients to take any of us out of even the funkiest of funks.

She’s gonna get a real kick out of this because I know she’s reading. And she’s far from your typical senior. She’s my idol.

Quite a few years ago now, I crossed paths with a spunky, sassy, fierce little whippet of a woman. She embodied strength and perseverance to me. And I hadn’t even talked to her yet.

She’s dog people so, of course, in a conversation with my other dog people, we clicked to which we then became Facebook friends and have since followed along from a polite distance.

Until I started this.

Since I decided to air my dirty (turning clean) laundry for everyone to read, she was the first person to admit to reading a post. It was a little embarrassing and a little awesome. But the fact that it came from her made my heart sing.

I can’t really express what her positive energy has meant to me, for a variety of reasons which I will keep between us. It’s such a comfort knowing there are real people out there that walk the walk and talk the talk.

But it’s more than just one person that has made this one of the most enlightening and positive experiences of my life. It’s a collective group of people I have surrounded myself with…on purpose. The older I get the more I cherish those around me that are loyal and supportive and kind. On the flip side, I have little to no time for those that are petty, jealous or lack compassion. Luckily for me, I don’t know that I can name a single person like that I spend any energy on anymore.

I’ll probably wait until Sunday to get all preachy with you, but let me just leave you with this little piece of unsolicited advice:

When a woman you admire tells you your brave, believe her.
When someone tells you your good at something, find a way to make it a priority.
When someone compliments your hair, teeth, earrings, smile, energy, spirit, tenacity, organizational skills, your new shoes say thank you…and that’s it.

And when your hero tells you you’re her hero, smile and hold on to that shit forever.

I just got done with a hot, epsom salt bath. At 3:30pm.

And before that I played with my flowers for hours. And before that I stopped at Starbucks and bought myself a latte. And before that I went to Hot Yin Yoga with one of my favorite instructors and basked in the glory of stretching and meditating (read: laying on my mat in a hot room). And before that I had breakfast made for me. And, to top it all off, I am getting pizza on the grill tonight.

Pretty great Saturday if you ask me. However, it didn’t start out that amazing.

My husband and I fought this morning. Nothing earth-shattering, but heavy air now nonetheless. We have been working together on a few very important items and we’re in a constant state of progress and sometimes we have hiccups. But all is forgiven and right in the world again. Note: this is because I took the time to put myself first after that. Had I not, it would still be bad.

Plus, I have been in a funk all week. I haven’t totally been able to nail down the source; probably a combination of things like always. Certainly the anticipation of Day 90 has loomed for the past few weeks. I find myself fretting over the dumbest things. Like, will Sunday be the first day I have a drink because it’s Day 90 or technically will it be Monday because then it would truly be 90 days? Or, will I be able to have one? Should I really be “celebrating” with the thing I have been trying to avoid all this time?

This is the stupid shit that runs through my head.

But, here’s the two things thing. 1. Ultimately, it’s my decision. I have to be okay with whatever I decide…about anything. And 2. Tomorrow is not today. I don’t have to worry about anything that is going to happen tomorrow today. I’ll wake up the same person I am right now.

I have no guarantee that the tomatoes on my margherita pizza won’t kill me tonight. Or that I won’t get hit by a drunk driver on the way home from the grocery store (wouldn’t that be ironic). Or that I won’t wake up at all tomorrow.

I know, I know. That all sounds real doomsday but I have a point.

After yoga this morning someone I admire immensely took the time out of her day to pull me aside and tell me this very sentiment. It doesn’t matter if it’s 9 days or 91 days or 181 days or whatever. Today is today and tomorrow is tomorrow. That’s it. To worry about anything else it futile.

We both admitted to thinking during yoga (and got a good chuckle out of it), which we all know shouldn’t be what we’re doing. (Or should it? I thought about this today while raking out the peonies. Why “shouldn’t” I be thinking on my yoga mat? It’s honestly where I get some of my best ideas. And isn’t it about “my practice”? So, whatever I do on my mat is my beeswax.)

As we’ve all heard the adage “take one day at a time” probably more than once in our lives, and ahem, rolled our eyes at the messenger (I’ll be the first to admit that), it is true.

I used to think it was a bunch of garbage. “Easy for you to say, you don’t have this and this and that and this going on. I have to plan for the future and if I don’t look back how will I learn from the past?” Except I wasn’t planning and I didn’t learn. I kept myself stuck in the same wet diaper blaming someone else for not changing it for me.

And at 40 years old, I am perfectly capable of changing my own dirty underwear.

In any case, I’m not gonna lie…day 89 has been sort of anti-climactic. I thought I would be more reflective or more proud of myself. Don’t get me wrong, I am proud, but to be perfectly honest, I always knew I could do it. I knew if I just said no and held myself accountable to others, there would be no question I could “accomplish” this. It became a challenge. And, if you want to see me do something, just tell me I can’t and then watch me prove you wrong.

I know, it’s bratty. I can’t help it. Plus, it’s sort of my superpower.

What I wanted out of this was a reset. I wanted to hit the slow-mo button so I could get a handle on what was actually going on in this head and body of mine. I wanted a chance to see if there was something out there that was just waiting for me to take a breath, open the door and welcome it in.

Turns out there was. Stay tuned.