Tales of an Addictive/Compulsive/Impulsive Sparkly Girl

No, I didn’t break out in handcuffs. However, I did break out in stupidity. Read on, dear reader, read on. Oh and on the subject of RDJ, yeah I’d hit that. In 100 different ways. Giggle!!!!

I started writing this on 10/19/2012. Not sure when I will post it. Not sure of anything as of late. Except the fact that life is only as good as you make it. So I’ve decided to make a good life for myself and those around me. First off, I have a confession to make. I am an addictive personality and very compulsive/impulsive. I think with my heart most of the time, and to hell with the outcome. Then my conscience gets the better of me and I have incredible panic and anxiety over my actions. I’ve always been this way. It’s not something I can shut off. It’s something that I must live with and control every day. It sucks, but it’s who I am. Secondly, I am an alcoholic. Yes, I am. My addictive/compulsive/impulsive brain thought that I could drink again after all the weight loss and exercise. What I got was a big, fat nope, you can’t do that!  I got the message after I proceeded to drink a magnum of wine one night and pour my heart out to a friend that I had no business pouring my heart out to.

My Roger Darling knows nothing of this binge and if he reads this post this is where he will find it out. I’ve been married to the man for 23 years. He’s kinda got this sparkly but tarnished girl figured out. For reasons completely unknown to me, he stays. He stays with an addictive/compulsive/impulsive woman who does stupid shit when she drinks. He stays with an addictive/compulsive/impulsive woman when she doesn’t drink and still does stupid shit. He stays. And why does he stay? Because he loves this addictive/compulsive/impulsive woman. Yes he does.  For that, I love him with every part of me that I can.

He sat down with me a few days ago after my wine binge, which he might have known about but didn’t acknowledge, and said, “woman, I love you, get your shit together.”  I said, “you’re right honey, I’m sorry I will.”  AGAIN! I’ve been saying shit like that for hmmmmm, going on 23 years now. That evening he had to go back to work for a few hours. We sat, had coffee, watched the Tigers sweep the Yankees (YAY!) and chatted. I gave him my word that it was a night for me to disconnect. To watch 30 Rock, Up All Night and The Office on NBC. Then it was bed and a book. No computer. No writing. No texting. Nada, nothing, zip, zilch, and zero. And that my friends, is exactly what I did. I threw out the empty wine bottle, I kicked my feet up and watched crappy t.v. Which isn’t that crappy because 30 Rock is the shit! Tracy Morgan makes me laugh so hard, I wet myself. I talked to Roger Darling on the phone. Then crawled into bed with the Wonder Schnauzers nestled around me and slept the best I had in weeks. I never even heard RD crawl into bed with me later that night. I was out!

The next morning, I awoke and I was happy. Maybe even a little sparkle had returned. I’m a little tarnished still. I always will be. Because, well, I’m an addictive/compulsive/impulsive girl. But I’m one that is dearly loved by her Roger Darling, her Meggie, and her Adam Boy. And by many, many, many others.

First and foremost I need to find the love I have for myself. I’m a good person. I have a good heart. I love with all of it. Though not too wisely sometimes. I am smart. I am funny and sarcastic as fuck. I say fuck a lot! I’m a bombshell and dammit, I’m a fucking rock star! Yes, I’m in therapy. And that man is a fucking rock star too. He keeps me in check and makes me realize I AM NOT CRAZY! I am not bi-polar, and I’m not narcissistic. The highs, lows and and intense emotions I feel are what make me, me. This is me!

Here’s a bit of random trivia for you. Robert Downey, Jr. was born April 4, 1965. I was born April 3, 1968. We’re both Aries (stubborn/bullheaded/fiery/passionate/sensual/adventurous/fun). We are both addicts. Why am I not surprised I am born under the same sign and only a day apart. I’ve always loved the man, but now I get it even more. Hey, I watched Biography recently because, well the man flips my damn trigger. I’d let him watch t.v. while he did me for the love of God! Okay, enough about him. DAMN is the man HAWT! Seriously, enough.

I’ve been sober for a week. I’ve been getting better by the day. The depression is waning and so is the anxiety. I went back to exercising. Which is such a good addiction to have. My joints hurt and my muscles are sore. But hey, it’s so much better than a hangover.

Not sure why but the song below resonates with me. He was newly sober, but had incredible support. I have incredible support. So on and on this sparkly but tarnished girl goes. BTW the book writing continues…… On and on I go….. With love in my heart, and love by my side.

Special thanks to Harry for sending me a message to tell me to keep writing. You’ll always be my BFF who gets me. Why in God’s name you are still my friend after 14 years I will never fully understand. But I love you Harry.

And it Feels Like I’m 17 Again

Yes that’s what I looked like when I was 17. Ah 17. I thought I knew it all. We all did. I posted on FB yesterday the following status update:

To all my Saline High School friends, I heard this on the way in to work this morning and it made me think about high school dances, smoking cigarettes at the dead end, parties at the Troll Bridge, making out under the bleachers at football games, being stoned at football games, getting drunk on Boone’s Farms wine and stealing kisses from other girl’s boyfriends. OMFG did we have some good damn fun!!!!

What I didn’t realize would happen is old friends would start flooding my comments section with memories.

Tracy talked about singing Yankee Rose by Van Halen with David, riding around in Goodman’s old white van, smoking and drinking Mountain Dew. Then she asked me about the stolen kisses from someone else’s boyfriend and I told her a lady never tells. But then I was never much of a lady. Then she called me a dirty tramp. Which I was, but so what. I had me a lot of fun. The only stolen kisses I will talk about were Bobby’s. Oh my God that boy could kiss me till my lips swelled and they stung from the tiny bites he would give me.

Then Ronnie piped in about the University Drive In. He and Tracy reminisced about going there on the weekends in David’s old white van. Then the guys took off their shoes and they stunk the whole damn thing up. They had to jump out of it because the smell was horrendous and made them gag. I remember that drive in too. Couldn’t tell you what the hell was on the screen but I knew I was doing it with my boyfriend at the time. The windows were all steamed up, and our friends in the other damn car kept banging on the fucking windows!!!!

Then Danny had to chime in about us all getting caught by the cops making out in the industrial park. It was vacant back in the day. So of course the cops could see the car from the main road. I was a police cadet, so I knew the cop that flashed his light at me. Nice! I was wild, but not very bright. He then proceeded to remind me of the time he drove home with Cheryl’s bra on his head. I don’t remember which Cheryl, but I sure do remember the incident he wrote about. I tried to get him to tell me which Cheryl it was, but he plead the 5th on her last name. The thought of our crazy antics made this sparkly old girl smile.

I then told Danny (yes, he’s Dan to everyone else, but he’ll always be Danny to me) that I had this great wish. I wished for unlimited funds so I could fly everyone home for a big ass party in a pole barn. We’d have a bonfire and a pig roast. The beer and wine would be flowing. There’d be 80’s music in the background cranked up to 11. We’d laugh about the old times, cry for those we lost (we were Death Valley Saline after all), we’d share what’s happened in our lives for the last 25 to 30 years and we’d enjoy every minute of it. I told Danny I wish we could all be in the same room, not because I miss the old days, but because I miss my friends. I miss 17. I miss riding around on the roof of a car, drunk and screaming at my friend that was driving to go faster. Yes, I know I was crazy, and I’m lucky I’m not dead.

I went on to say that I didn’t want to have a party in some damn country club. That’s not who we are. Even if we are white collar, we still like the idea of beer and a bonfire. I love that my high school friends support me in my writing. But it’s not only that. It’s the sense of community that I feel with my FB friends. There is so much love and support. When there’s sadness we lift each other up. When there is anger, we bitch and fight. When there is loss, we do what we can to show our support. When a silly girl like me posts funny status updates and my friend Lisa says start a blog, you have talent, you do it. Because there is so much love and support among us.

I love, love, love, love, love, my friends. My friend Tracy from Saline, now she is one girl I would have never been friends with in high school. She scared the absolute shit out of me. I talk to her every day now. She’s one of my best friends and I can’t imagine my life without her. She’s still one bad ass mother fucker, but she’s my friend and I love her.

I don’t wish to be 17 again. I wish to have my friends around me from when I was 17. They were everything to me. They still are. The beauty of it is, I get to talk to them every day on FB. It’s not the same as seeing them in person though. I am creating an event today though. Dan’s Tavern in Saline, Thanksgiving weekend. Whoever is home better show up and have a cold one. We need some time together. To laugh, hug, love, and cry. To remember.

Man how I wish I had my Jordache jeans, my bright pink off the shoulder sweat shirt and wide belt. Of course I had to wear a pair of bright pink heels to complete the ensemble. Big ass earrings too and my hair feathered and hair sprayed to the sky with half a can of Aqua Net. Now to find those Marlboro Reds, and that bottle of Boone’s Farm, Tickle Pink of course. Dammit, now I want a smoke!