Moonshine & Wanderlust

... a cosmopolitan view from a southern perspective

Cold Turkey

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“Free cheese is always available in mousetraps.” – Unknown

Do you ever try to bargain with yourself? You know – “I’ll just have a small slice of this chocolate cake”, “I’ll just have one drink,” “I’ll go workout tomorrow.” We all have. Some of us are better bargainers than others. I’ve played that game with myself for years. Usually it’s where relationships are concerned. We all have our bargaining weak spots – relationships, food, working out, alcohol, etc. It’s a power play against our will and our weaknesses.

Recently I needed to stop at the grocery store to pickup 3 things: egg whites, tuna, and a sweet potato. I only had $3 in cash because I lost my debit card (more on that story coming another day – it involves running out of gas. Don’t ask.) so I was having to be very selective in my purchases. Somehow between the tuna and the egg whites my body found itself on this aisle:

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I think they purposely put this type of stuff on the end of the aisle so you can’t help but see it and stop when you walk by. Let me preface all this to say I don’t think I have EVER bought a whole package of Oreos to keep at my house. I don’t keep sweets in my house, period. Maybe some chocolate but that’s it. I enjoy baking and cooking but I’m not someone who has a snack cabinet or anything like that. However, s’mores are one of my favorite little treats ever (I went through a phase where I had one every night before bed) and I am extremely intrigued by these s’mores Oreos. I’m more of a Reeses gal myself, but these days anything and everything hydrogenated and sugary is looking reeeeeeal good.

You see, when you dial certain things down or completely out of your life sometimes there is this thing that rears its ugly head. That little thing is called temptation. Ah, yes. Whether it’s my body tempting me to eat a whole package of Oreos or my mind tempting me to sabotage my sanity, temptation is rampant. And, even more so when you are trying to be “good.” Whatever that means to you. The temptation is always 1,000% stronger and harder to fight when you are on the straight and narrow. This could apply to hundreds of things – pick your personal poison.

If you read Gone Girl you know I am following the IIFYM (If It Fits Your Macros) lifestyle right now. Love it. Could I eat a few Oreos and stay on track? Absolutely. Could I eat a few Oreos and stop there? Eeehhh. Not on this particular night. I would probably have bargained with myself and eaten way more than a few and then told myself I’d make it up some other way. I know myself pretty well these days and weak PL was looking at those s’mores Oreos like she looks at a new pair of high heels on sale.

So – I walked away. I said no. I didn’t bargain. Because, bargaining often leads to losing. I’ve come too far to tempt myself. Do I eat sweets? Of course. But, I stay within my macros. Am I going to do this forever? Probably not, but I have some super specific goals right now and I have worked far too hard and far too long to bargain my way into a few moments of pleasure. Because, isn’t that really what temptation and bargaining with ourselves is about? A few moments of pleasure for something that won’t last? Something that feels good in the moment but ultimately leaves us feeling empty and more broken than before?

Cutting bad things out of your life is never easy. Sometimes we try to keep “a little” bit to hang on to – because it feels good, because it’s comfortable, because we’re having a bad day and a “little bit” of our old life makes a feel a little better. Temporarily.

Unfortunately, the real temptations in life for most of us aren’t food but are things that are more damaging to our mental and emotional well being than our physical well being. They hurt our hearts and impede our growth. We take ten steps forward only to look back in a moment of weakness and wake up to find ourselves five steps backwards. For most of my adult life when I have found myself in these types of situations it has taken me a long time to finally get to the cold turkey point. I waver, I struggle, I bargain, and I “what if” and “maybe if” in my mind until I’m physically exhausted.

Once I get to the point of never looking back something always clicks inside of me. Once I’m done, I’m done. Are there moments of temptation? Absolutely. Are there moments of struggle? Yes. But, they get so much easier. Promise. It’s worth it – to not look back, to not give in, to stand your ground, to be strong – to find out who you REALLY are, not who you think you’re supposed to be.

When you’re tempted to go back “just a little” to something that you know you are going to have a difficult time picking yourself up from – run the other way. Remember why you have moved on. Remember why you started. Remember why you are stronger than you were before.

There are no “do-overs” in this life – don’t waste your days on weakness. You are stronger than you could ever imagine if you just remember to not give up, give in, or give out.

a Beautiful disaster

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glass

So many questions, so many thoughts and finally, a resting place – a question to God…

“Do you think I’m unbreakable?”

Broken pieces – we’re all made up of them. Sometimes we cut ourselves on other people’s broken pieces, sometimes we cut ourselves on our own. I’m broken. I’m shattered. I’m a mess. I’m human. So many thoughts and words and feelings are a constant bombardment. Solace and peace is what I hope for. The itch to flee is ever present, lingering below the surface… slowly simmering and sometimes rising far enough to the top to boil over and make me burn on the inside. But, I can’t run away. Why? Because, somewhere deep down inside of me there is something growing. Hope. Sympathy. Empathy. Care. Love. Compassion. From my mistakes I am finding renewal. But, it’s hard. It’s harder than anything I’ve done before. I find myself facing the fire, feeling the heat and the burn and the pain and withstanding. No truer words were spoken than “two steps forward, one step back.” Most days, I think I have it together pretty well then I think God must look at me and think: “Silly girl… Let me show you more.”

My mom, in her wisdom and often in spite of my deep refusal to believe her, used to tell me so often “life is going to be hard, Patty Lauren.” Life. Is. Hard. I never wanted to believe her – because God gives us free will and I wasn’t going to be stupid enough to screw my life up. I got that one totally on lock. I’ve made mistakes – I’ve made them because I was young, because I was stupid, because I do take to heart that you shouldn’t regret anything, that even if you make a mistake it was right in that moment, etc. I’m a product of infiltration. I’ve done things against my better judgment, against my own moral compass, against what my mind was telling me… and, now I am facing the repercussions of my choices. You can’t see it by looking at me – I’m not the face of meth, I haven’t developed an eating disorder, I don’t self harm – at least, not on the outside. I’m still trying to wade through these deep waters – to come to terms with my feelings and what I think.

I never thought life could be so complicated. I never thought my life could resemble something I’ve read about or watched in movies. I feel like a loose barnacle that is just floating along, waiting for that next piece of solid stability to cling to. On those nights when the wind blows hard, the rain pelts the glass and the howl from outside numbs the feelings inside… the nights when your head is so heavy with thoughts that you wake up the next morning to a headache you are sure is caused by the words and emotions trying to escape your brain… the nights when there is no escape… Those are the nights you bleed from the brokenness.

{as always, all pictures are my own.}

a scar remains

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I have a scar on my thigh I aquired at the age of nine. Growing up, I would always iron my clothes on the floor. I can’t remember if we had an ironing board and my mother didn’t use it or if we didn’t have one at that time. For whatever reason ironing on the floor was a regular occurrence. Anyway, I distinctly remember ironing my shirt while I was watching a black and white episode of Perry Mason (I had an usual childhood.) Obviously I was engrossed in the courtroom drama I wasn’t paying attention to my hand work and ran the blazing hot iron right up on my leg – where it sat for a good three or four seconds before the pain receptors in my brain went haywire.

The days following my accident were worse than the actual event. The burn was extremely painful and over a couple of days the spot began to swell. My burn had turned into a blister… a satin finished and soft nub of liquid. After several days, the blister popped and drained. It’s disgusting, I know. The pain subsided over time, but the scar is still there. It’s in the perfect shape of the iron point, actually – a nice little teepee shape. As I have aged, I have noticed it has become less noticeable. I can point it out and spot it, but I have to look for it – it’s not as present as it was before.

Sometimes circumstances happen to us that send every pain receptor in our body into high alert. We wanna run and scream and do whatever we can do put out the pain – to salve the hurt, but it doesn’t go away. Oh, if we could just go back a few seconds… a few months… a few years. But, the damage has been done and, man, does it hurt. You may think you won’t be able to cope with the pain – nothing seems to stomp out the fire. Not only are we having to deal with the immediate pain, but the residual pain comes – the blisters. The blisters are daily reminders of what has happened. Even on days when things seem to get better – you’re not in so much pain, your heart is healing – the blister stays. And, under the blister will be born a scar.

It makes me think about removing cancer from your body – it must come out, but it leaves a scar. In the process of removing negative things from our life, we must be willing to face the pain of digging it out – no matter how badly it hurts – to start healing. The removing of negative things in our life that cause us pain can come in different forms – but, no matter what form it is – it is going to be painful. It’s going to be a daily or weekly or monthly reminder of what happened and the feelings that are conjured up because of the circumstance or person. It takes more strength than weakness to go through these times – we are the only ones who can commit to this endeavor and come out clean.

One day – the blister is gone and underneath is the new skin. But, it is forever changed. A scar remains to serve as a reminder and a protection from the pain inflicted before. Over time, the scar becomes lighter and less noticeable – the pain is gone… but you know it is still there. And, when you look at it, you know you endured. You survived. Some scars we may get a few times -others, once was more than enough. There will always be new scars – some will hurt less than others, but they all are a lesson to us in this journey. It does get easier… sometimes the saying is true that it gets harder before is gets easier, but it does… the pain subsides, your wounds heal, your mind is renewed. You are restored through the pain.

Twenty years later and I still iron my clothes on the floor. And, yes, I do own an ironing board. Old habits die hard… you just learn to be a little more careful.

petals

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Lies and empty words can feel like someone took a flower and shook it into the wind. At first, it’s a gentle disintegration… so slight you do not notice the first petals dropping to the ground. As time drags on the flower is starved of water but the budding hope coming from saturated words – always the right words – keep the flower from reaching out to a more nurturing hand. More petals fall. The flower is shaken harder and it’s core begins to be exposed. The flower still holds hope for restoration… To be transformed into what they dream they can be, what the lies make them believe. But, that is not what is meant to be. Instead, the flower’s stem is shaken one last time… So hard it’s stem bends and the remaining petals fall away and the dark nub of their heart is exposed to the harsh reality they have been living in. The holder of the flower walks away, leaving the remains to be stripped away by the elements. The flower is of no use anymore… It has been used for its purpose to the holder. You see, we are all flowers and we all allow ourselves – the fragile parts of us – to be held by people. And, sometimes even in our best effort, we are still crushed and used. The good news is we are not flowers… The crushing, the pressing, the bending and the breaking only serve to fuel our fires and leave us brighter than before.

Hey, it’s just …

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Hey, it’s just one night, it’s not like it’s forever
I just want to feel better

How many times have we looked for an escape route in order to “feel better”? The fine art of escaping takes many forms – we all have our vices and they seem be exascerbated by whatever is ailing us at the time. We ache to escape when things get tough – when we want to forget the pain in our lives. My childhood left little room for me to escape a situation I might have found hurtful or stressful – I read to escape. Books were my safety net and safe haven. However, adulthood opened up a Pandora’s box of escape methods. I went from very limited parameters to no parameters.

For a long time, I didn’t feel the need to push my escape boundaries – I nudged them a little, sure, but for several years I never full fledged sacked myself up against a wall. My first real grownup, big-girl, “I can do whatever I want” escape came in the winter of 2011. I had gotten some pretty unexpected and hurtful news from one of my best friends and suddenly, the idea of reading seemed very ten years old of me. I found myself in a blur of actions and feelings that landed me, alone, on the floor of my apartment. From cold to cold – a friend came and transported me from the cool linoleum of my kitchen to the cold and hard bathroom tile. It’s funny how we hit these walls with such force, yet we visit them again and again – no matter how badly they can make us feel.

So, once you find a boundary that doesn’t dull the pain anymore, you move on to the next one… and the next, then one above the last one, etc. We climb the rungs of the numb ladder in hopes to find something that will squelch the longing, the pain, the ache, or the empty forever. But, it’s not to be found. It’s a bottomless pit that begs to be filled. In those moments when alcohol numbs, drugs soothe, other people distract, sleep blankets, we are temporarily satiated. We forget – the line to the top of our empty gauge is full – until the escape stops. It comes to a hault. We learn to ride out the escape route for as long as we can – we stretch it as far as it will go and each route lasts a different time than another, so perhaps we combine our escape routes in hopes of creating one giant ride of oblivion.

The thing is – we can never escape. We try and perhaps for a time we are transported to a place where we forget, temporarily, or our wounds are salved. But, unless we are willing to make peace with whatever is causing us to run toward escaping, we will never truly be free. In more recent times, I found myself trying to get out of town for a couple of days when I was going through something that shot up my “escape” flag. After doing this a couple of times, I realized I was missing out on really wonderful moments with friends and family and myself because I was still consumed with what I was trying to escape. It almost felt like a burden because I was so entwined in my own feelings I failed to notice so many things. When I started to change my attitude and stopped using things I loved as ways of escape – traveling, people, the ocassional glass of wine – I enjoyed them for what they were and how they enriched my life, not how they could be used to duct tape the broken pieces of me together.

I’m still learning how to “cope” with life as an adult – I still nudge my boundaries and I’m still tempted to flee. But, I am getting better at being a little bit more gentle with myself and allowing those feelings and emotions, no matter how negative or painful, to exist and be with me until it is their time to pack up and move on. I don’t use experiences or people or things I enjoy to be bandaids for emotional craters that are far too deep for them to cover. Running away from those feelings only seems to make them more eager to stay. Every experience is a lesson – trying to block it out can cause us to miss out on something that in the end could be more beautiful and powerful than we ever imagined.