Popcap Games has created a flash application that creates a highly customizable zombie avatar to use on Facebook, Twitter or any other social networking site.  Kinda fun and actually closer to how I feel today after my flu shot.   =^p


If y'all decide to create one, I'd love to see it.  You can email it to me or post a link in my comments.

Wreckage of active addiction -- UPDATE

About my last post -- as always, I appreciate the outpouring of support.  I want to assure y'all that this incident has not presented sorrow or hardship for me.  Sometimes you just have to let go with love which is what I've chosen to do.  Life is full of ups and downs ... I focus on the ups and learn from the downs.  For me, staying away from using addicts is kinda like avoiding walking barefoot over broken glass. 

Today there hasn't been any contact from them which lets me know I made the right decision.  Once I said "No drugs and no bail money" they no longer had use for me.  I'm sad for them.  However, I chose life -- they can as well.  Until then I'm still going to make the best of my choice.

Thanks again, y'all!

My godchild began her recovery just prior to Hurricane Katrina.  She attended meetings come hell or high water ... literally.  Her life improved.  In her early 20s, she rented a beautiful little two bedroom house, had custody of her 3 year old daughter, had a job, a car -- all the benefits of being clean came fast for her ... maybe too fast.  It wasn't but a year later she relapsed.  That was about three years ago.  Now she's using, pregnant and on house arrest ... rather, she was on house arrest.

There and a half hours ago her mother sent me a text, "I need you.".  I drove the short distance to their house.  I arrived in time to see deputies from the Jefferson Parish Sheriff's Office putting her in handcuffs.  As they were leading her away I held her hysterical mother in my arms as my godchild cried over her shoulder, "Mommy!  Mommy!  I love you, Mommy!"  This was the same "child" that not too very long ago called her mother a whore and spat in her face. 

I finally found out she had tested dirty -- meaning the results of her urine test revealed she had been using opiates ... heroin.  All I could think was "Consequences, consequences, consequences."  She knew what would happen if she was caught using.

After the deputies took her away, her mother was inconsolable.  What happened next infuriated me ... her mother asked me if I had anything that would relieve her stress -- "Do you have anything that will knock me out." were her first words.  I responded, "One, I'm not the dope man.  Two, my meds are prescribed for a reason -- because I need them.  I take them as directed.  I won't participate in your addiction."  She clung to me, apologized and cried, "I'm sorry, I'm sorry -- I just need something. I can't do this alone. My baby's gone."

Maybe she did need something to calm her down but I wasn't going to give her anything.  I'm angry with her and I'm angry with my godchild.  That poor little baby growing inside of her didn't have a choice when my godchild decided to pump heroin through her body.  My godchild's daughter didn't get a choice about being left without a mother, perhaps for five years.  Her children, born & unborn, will suffer the consequences of her behavior.  But my godchild did have a choice and so does her mother -- unfortunately, they choose to use. 

My friend kept screaming at me, "She's your godchild!"  Was it an accusation that I failed her?  Was she passing judgment on me because I wasn't crying?  Was it condemnation because I wouldn't take part in the hysteria and drama?  I told my friend I love her and left her with her husband and her grandchild.

Last month marked 19 years clean for me.  I'm not proud or boastful.  I'm grateful.  The hurtful thing is that this friend was one of my first sponsors nineteen years ago.  She went above and beyond to support me during those scary months I was first getting clean.  I want to be there for her now but I can't condone her drug use and can't bear to watch.  I've always told her and my godchild if they want help getting clean I'm there for them; otherwise, no.

My mother used to tell me things I didn't understand.  Things like, "Sometimes the best answer is: do nothing."  or "Sometimes the best way to be there for someone is by not being there."  Now I understand.  For now, until they decide they want recovery, I have to stay away.  I admit being around that mentality could be dangerous for me.  I'm certain I've another relapse in me but I'm not entirely certain I can survive it and find recovery again -- I hope they do.

1. Werewolf ::  Wolfman Jack -- DJ from .. erm, when I was ... younger.
   
2. Jim :: jimmy a lock (I didn't say that officer)
   
3. 2x4 ::  a devise used as a deterrent
   
4. Unruly ::  behavior calling for the use of a 2x4
   
5. Component ::  Stereo components
   
6. Prolific ::  what an inspired poet becomes
   
7. Wrestler ::  wrestling with emotions
   
8. Huh? ::  *blink, blink - blank stare*
   
9. Dolls :: what my friends are - living dolls.
   
10. Super! ::  super human powers

You can mutter too - here or in my comments.

It's hard to know what to say ... even embarrassing.  There have been so many changes.  Unfortunate drama. 

I was terribly unstable emotionally which took it's toll on everyone around me.  The tension escalated until it erupted into drama and I was forced by circumstances to flee the haven I fled to for safety.  How ironic is that?  I lost the only valuable possession that survived Katrina -- ruined beyond repair -- once a valuable antique, now worthless.  I don't know how it happened.  I suspect it was the unfortunate victim of the fallout.  I can't see any other way it could have gotten so damaged.  All I can say is oh well -- it's just a thing.  Not anything I want to grieve over -- bigger fish to fry -- bigger concerns to care about.

The biggest loss ... I lost a friend.  The who, how, what and why isn't unimportant.  It's over.  People will say it will be OK but I'm fairly certain that's not the case.  Truthfully, I don't think it would be in either of our best interest to pursue reconciliation.  I'm not sure it ever will be.  Time will tell but that's not my biggest concern right now.

Where am I?  Limbo.

Oddly, the person who came to my rescue was Mr. Man.  I'm living out of a suitcase in the spare bedroom of his condo.  He's been supportive, loving, caring ... sober.  I cried for days.  Uncharacteristically he comforted me and apologized for his part in the situation. 

During the moving I did something that aggravated my siatic nerve.  I've been in  horrible pain.  Mr. Man has been taking care of me -- something he never did the entire eleven years we were together.  He tells me he didn't think I'd leave.  He talks about how empty his life was without me.  He says he still wants to try.  I tell him I still don't trust him.  I tell him I won't be pressured and the fact that I have nowhere to go at present doesn't mean we'll reconcile.  I tell him I'm most interested in getting me better physically and emotionally.  In fact, it's my ONLY concern.  It's time for to take care of me.  I won't allow anyone to deter me.  I WILL get better ... with help.

This last event has me feeling vulnerable, defective, degraded and humiliated but not defeated.  Although, I am concerned that I'm so broken not even my best friend was able to stand me.  Speaks volumes, I think.

Honestly, I haven't decided anything other than I want to continue therapy.   I'm safe for now but in my heart and mind I'm lost and have no idea where I'm going.  BUT ... as my mother always told me, "In everything a blessing" -- I just can't see the blessing in this yet but one day my mouth will fly wide open, I"ll gasp and then say, "Oh, now I see!"

California is still a dream.  I'll never lose hope ... ever!

By the way, y'all are responsible for lifting up my heart and the corners of my mouth.  The joy of living ... y'all are very much a part of that joy for me.   Thank you!

I don't have interent access here except by way of "my" wireless" router still connected at Mr. Man's place.  Sometimes the signal quality is excellent and sometimes poor or the ever mysterious "limited".  Day before yesterday I tried to edit my blog and then lost connection which totally messed up plenty of things between the <body> and </body> tags.  =^p

So blogwise some things have changed -- some things are missing.  I'll need to work on it.  Maybe a new layout is called for?  I guess it will give me something to do while I'm trying not to think of Mr. Man, how he's doing or how he'll ever survive without me. 

I'm sure he'll be just fine without me but there's this tiny, teeny, weensy part of me that wishes for his misery without me.  I can hear my sister saying, "How old are you?" because it probably sounds a bit juvenile.  But there it is ... the awful truth ... I kinda sorta miss him and hope he's miserable without me. 

He was out until the wee hours last night so he's probably not miserable.  More like he's enjoying the freedom to drink his life away.  Funny that I'm still in the condo complex but I never see him -- this is a good thing.  I don't need to see him.  Seeing him would only tug at my heart.  I've been with him nearly twelve years.  Yes, he was abusive but he wasn't abusive ALL the time and it's those sweet parts of him I miss.  It's gonna take time.  I know I have to go through this pain and separation anxiety -- there's no way  over it, under it or around it -- I have to go through it ... one day at a time.  Today is day three.

me = horse

him = burning barn

Friday, don't ran back into the barn!

past = darkness

future = bright

Friday, go into the light!

Yes, I am out. 

Out of patience. 

Out of the condo. 

Out of the relationship. 

Out of my mind scared. 

Spaced out & out of it. 

Out of tears.

My therapist says I'm courageous and that since I'm so resilient, I'll bounce back sooner than I think.  I'm glad that's what her crystal ball tells her because my crystal ball is muddy and murky.

I'm having conflicting feelings.  Relief and yet regret.  Peace and yet deep-seated discontent.  I thought I would feel joyful  and hopeful but .... no.  He says, "This isn't over.  This is just a separation.  I'm going to be the man you need me to be and then you can come home."  I told him he had to become the man he wanted and needed to be with or without me.  His response was something like, "I want to be the man you need me to be." 

I wanted to tell him I was tired of promises.  I wanted to tell him that actions speak louder than words -- at which point I realized I should take my own advice.  Actions do speak louder than words so by my actions, I said goodbye.  While he was across the river "tending to business", I moved the last of my things out.  I didn't cry or even take one last lingering look.  I locked the door and left.

I did do some stupid things before I left.  No, I didn't write my name on the bottom of all his dishes or write a note in Magic Marker on the mirror or tuck little notes away in every cupboard or plant pictures of me under his pillow, in his sock drawer, etc.  What I did do was I stocked the freezer with prepared meals, changed the bed, did the laundry, hung a new shower curtain in the bathroom I left empty and I set the DVR to record his favorite shows.  A caretaker to the very end.  It's what I do best, I guess.  Now it's my turn to take care of me.

Several things weren't done -- those hurdles I spoke of post before last.  The utilities were never transferred into his name because although we've been together for nearly twelve years and he's been an authorized user on all my accounts, they required a deposit from him on every utility.  To make a long story short, I left them in my name, told him he would have to give me the money at the beginning of next month and have them transferred.  He has one more month reprieve.  If he doesn't come through, then I'll have the services turned off.  "Some people" have passed judgment on me for being such a sucker but I'm following my higher sense of right.

I'm emotional and surprised by things I'm feeling ... the grieving process begins.  Several people have abandoned me because I'm so vulnerable and broken.  Honestly, I'm too hurt by what I've just done to be hurt by the abandonment.  One day I'll be a worthy friend again ... said the Little Red Hen.

My eternal gratitude to those who have and are still supporting and encouraging me.  Y'all have cared for me, nurtured me, showered me with love and because of y'all, I will blossom.

The best-laid schemes o' mice an 'men
Gang aft agley,
An'lea'e us nought but grief an' pain,
For promis'd joy!

It's just not going as planned or hoped for.  Why the insurmountable hurdles?  Why?

It's hard to respond to y'all who have encouraged, supported and comforted me when I've no good news to offer.  Sometimes though any news is good news and I've some news that indicates a little step  forward. 

I have a place to go.  It's not far enough away and not the most ideal situation but it's a place to be where I'll be safe.  He had agreed to me staying until I could "get my act together" to have all my things moved to California -- maybe two weeks.  He promised I would be safe.  Another promise down the drain since he made the promise in the morning and that same evening came home very drunk  He wasn't abusive but neither was he kind. 

Without telling him anything at all, I made a few calls and finally worked out a plan with my best friend.  I went to therapy yesterday morning and told my  therapist what was going on.  Instead of encouraging me to "save the twelve year relationship" as she had done before, she spoke the words I'd been longing to hear anyone say, "You've made your feelings known and did so in a loving, caring way.  It's evident he's not interested in making an effort.  It's time to get out and you can do so knowing you've done all you can do."  Why I should need "permission" from my therapist is beyond me, but it helped.

After therapy I went to storage and loaded up all my suitcases and more empty boxes.  When he saw the suitcases he seemed a little taken aback.  I didn't say anything but since then I've been telling him things we need to do regarding certain items and a few bills he'll need to take over that we hadn't mentioned before.

Today he's across the river again and SAYS he'll be back early but I don't have much faith in anything he says any more.  I've decided that if he's not home at a reasonable time I'll not spend the night here.  If he's home at a reasonable time and drunk, I'll not spend the night here.  Then everything will kick into high gear and I'll be out in the shortest time possible.

I know the grieving period will come but at this moment I feel I have only one purpose ... to keep myself safe.

Thank y'all so much for continuing to check on me.    Your caring, concern, thoughts, prayers, kindness -- ALL appreciated so very much.  It's amazing to me to feel so pitiful and yet y'all haven't turned away from me during this painful time.  True, some have given up on me because my life has been "too negative" but I can't worry about them.  I look forward to being around a lot more after I'm out of here and then I can shower the love on y'all as I once did.  Hopefully the pain of a failed twelve year relationship won't consume me for too long.  Just trying to be realistic ... I know that no matter how right this decision is, the pain will come ... but I also know I'll be OK.

I re-read the my last post and realized ... I don't know this man I've lived with for nearly twelve years.  However there are several things I do know that make me wonder what sort of madness is going on in this man's mind when he's drunk.

First, I believe he believes I think I'm better than he is somehow because I used to have money, I've traveled and I've experienced much more of the world than he has.  I don't think that at all.  In fact, I think much less of myself because of how I threw that all away with drugs and alcohol.  Since he's doing exactly the same thing, he certainly wouldn't see my actions that way.

The other night he saw me eating my salad with my fingers -- I was just picking at it really.  When I saw him looking at me I said, "I know, this would embarrass you which is why I don't do it while we're out."  Well, we rarely go out together -- I can't remember the last time we went visiting or out to eat or to a movie.  So when he's drunk he repeats this trivial incident with, "You're a total embarrassment!  I don't care if you did see someone in Europe eating their salad with their fingers; here in The States civilized people eat salad with a fork."  I don't respond to him but I'm thinking in my head, "Where is that coming from?"  a) I've never been to Europe  b) I've never eaten my salad with my fingers in public  c) civilized people?  Do civilized people get drunk and come home acting like a mad man?

Second ... all that bravado about being in jail before and "it ain't nuthin'.  He was arrested ONCE for DUI.  Slept it off in the drunk tank, went to court for it and had to pay a fine and perform so many hours of community service -- picking up trash in front of the courthouse.  That was years before I met him so in the past eleven years he hasn't been in jail.

In the mind of this drunk man, reality becomes wildly distorted and I get punished for things I never did or said.  When he's sober, he's remorseful and sweet and says things like, 'I would NEVER hit you!"  Yeah, OK.

More bad news this morning ... once again the place where I was going to stay until I could fly to California has been removed from the equation.  If only I could stay with family it would make my life so much easier but ... no such luck.  I actually don't even want to bring my grief into anyone's home while I'm transitioning.  Many people feel the same way I do ... i did this myself.  I chose to stay.  Well, now I'm choosing to leave.  Maybe it's just as well I can't ask anyonoe to help me because i don't want to feel ingratiated.

How many women have been trapped in a relationship because they had nowhere to go?  I'm going to do this somehow.  I won't be defeated ... not after everything else I've been through.  I've been through far too much to give up now.