Blog readership changes over time.
I have some new readers who have asked
to know a bit more about me.
I'm linking to a post from 2007 that includes
more links to the story that ultimately brought
me to begin blogging in 2006. Click here.
For those who have already read those posts, or
prefer not to, may I suggest that you begin to
ponder what you will enter in next week's
Haiku Monday Contest. Beautiful Boxer is this week's winner
and has already picked the topic: Rain.
Boxer is an absolute hostess with the mostest, so
don't be surprised if she offers you some of her Tofu Vodka.
Showing posts with label alcoholism. Show all posts
Showing posts with label alcoholism. Show all posts
Thursday, January 26, 2012
Tuesday, May 29, 2007
It's All About Choices - Epilogue...
I was asked to put up links to all the segments for
this when I wrote the final installment, so here ya go:
start here, then Part 2, Part 3, Part 4,
then this, and Part 5.
*********************************
Right now, my brain feels like a salad spinner.
I could easily turn this into a very long soap opera and
relay all the details of: the memorial service, finding the
pool of blood under the sofa, disposing of the sofa and rug,
moving back in gradually over a period of two months
before I could sleep in the house again.
Not to mention, the house was heading to foreclosure
because he let the mortgage get three months behind
(even though I left enough money in the bank for him
to be able to pay the bills for six months) and...
over $22,000 in credit card bills.
That almost covers it.
Obviously, I survived it. I CHOSE to survive it.
It sucked for a long time, and there were plenty of times
when I wasn't sure that I would survive.
Plenty of times, too, when I really didn't want to survive.
Those times scared me the most.
Some of those times were not too long ago.
I don't want to go back there again.
He made the choices that determined his life... and death.
I will never understand all of his choices. I don't need to...
any.more.
Nearly thirty years have gone by since Michael and I met.
More than half of my life. That's enough.
I cannot erase that time, nor do I want to. But, what I can do,
is put that time in perspective. It's done. I am not.
I am taking back my life. I am claiming my life... for ME.
I CHOOSE to live:
without anger.
without regret.
without guilt.
with hope.
with strength.
with peace.
with a full heart.
I choose to have a good life.
this when I wrote the final installment, so here ya go:
start here, then Part 2, Part 3, Part 4,
then this, and Part 5.
*********************************
Right now, my brain feels like a salad spinner.
I could easily turn this into a very long soap opera and
relay all the details of: the memorial service, finding the
pool of blood under the sofa, disposing of the sofa and rug,
moving back in gradually over a period of two months
before I could sleep in the house again.
Not to mention, the house was heading to foreclosure
because he let the mortgage get three months behind
(even though I left enough money in the bank for him
to be able to pay the bills for six months) and...
over $22,000 in credit card bills.
That almost covers it.
Obviously, I survived it. I CHOSE to survive it.
It sucked for a long time, and there were plenty of times
when I wasn't sure that I would survive.
Plenty of times, too, when I really didn't want to survive.
Those times scared me the most.
Some of those times were not too long ago.
I don't want to go back there again.
He made the choices that determined his life... and death.
I will never understand all of his choices. I don't need to...
any.more.
Nearly thirty years have gone by since Michael and I met.
More than half of my life. That's enough.
I cannot erase that time, nor do I want to. But, what I can do,
is put that time in perspective. It's done. I am not.
I am taking back my life. I am claiming my life... for ME.
I CHOOSE to live:
without anger.
without regret.
without guilt.
with hope.
with strength.
with peace.
with a full heart.
I choose to have a good life.
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