So... babe came in to interrupt this blog post too, because I was yelling at my computer screen, which was glitching. Babe is concerned about males in the rooms getting too friendly with me. Because I told babe the other day that if this relationship ended, I was holding a space to figure out who, exactly,, & that I will be holding a space, working on myself. I would spend that first year getting to know mySELF, Diane, "Tia Dia," by my mother; my brothers & sisters-in law; my nieces & nephew (my Godson). I did not want to be "Aunt Di," that didn't suit. Tia Dia has a nice ring to it, & while I have not learned yet to make accents in Spanish, know that I know they belong there & I am appropriated this bit of culture, not my own, because, years ago, I decided that I would prefer to salute the morning & the fact that I even woke up. "Tia Dia," is my way of my way of covertly having my family pray for my success, when, for so many years, I am certain, they were sure they were going to bury me. Tomorrow is never promised, & I only ever have NOW. I stay clean, just for TODAY for ONE MINUTE AT A TIME; it becomes an hour; I work the Narcotics Fellowship; I attend a meeting; I contact my sponsor; I have sisters & aunties & grandmothers galore that I am connected to from time spent in the parent fellowship & new sisters, aunties, and grandmothers galore in the narcotics fellowship & those connections keep me sane as I watch the world absolutely SLIDE all around me today. Because of my membership in the "NO MATTER WHAT CLUB," I can BE a beacon of Light in the Dark, not only to little sisters, aunties & grandmothers new to Recovery, but also to some of my coworkers, even thou, I, myself, had to take a leave of absence from work to ride out this storm within myself, which happened all of December, carried into the first week of January & now here we are at January 8, with some of my dots connects & yet, not referencing to the literature, until I can figure out an easy way for me to cut & paste it. "Easy does it" is going to be a good way for me. I can complicate the ish out of anything at all. So, I said in my title that I get paid to write now. When I was in that all girls' preparatory school that I attended because I essentially catfished my entire friend group in the sixth grade, maybe at age 12 or 13, to give you an idea. I may have only been 11 or 12. I was a year behind my peers because I was "precocious," but that left me terribly behind in social skill & leaves me wondering today if I am on the Spectrum; am I ADD inattentive type; what was my deal? It's all water under the bridge & "over the dam" as I remember my late father, a retired police officer & school security office & a very fair man, in my humble opinion, saying once. I really miss him. Dad's funeral was 12/21/12, the Mayan Apocalypse. I made a half hearted suicide attempt a few days later by driving into a guardrail during a snowstorm, while on lunch break while working retail at a discount department store retailer & spent the holiday season so sad in MCES. I think, whatever phone at the time, made me enter a birthday when I made a new contact (or I was too sick at the time to bypass that). As a result, this time, every year, MCES' Birthday shows in my contacts, reminding me of the crazy from when I came. At one point, I returned to MCES, looking for a work & I was full blown hallucinating. There is a story here to be written & perhaps I shall. I have worked in behavioral health to supplement my special education/ emotional support teacher's pay, but currently, those jobs are ten years in the past; the hurt is healing; I lost a job teaching swim lessons to COVID; & I was back to being a Retail Extraordinaire. The cherry on top was when the Social Security Administration stepped in at the end of the month to review my case. I do believe my head, for like the fiftieth time since the beginning of December, exploded metaphorically all over my bedroom. I filled it out by hand. It looks ridiculous... all over the page. I will type it up & submit that too, so maybe, I can get the services that I need to work at all. I want to be a success story. I really do. But I need to stay in the now, take it one day at a time & stay in program. When meetings are available on ITR that speak to other issues that I face: such as growing up in a well meaning, but Dysfunctional Family; Codependency; Love Addiction; whatever else crops up for me, I need to stay plugged in & address that Trauma, that is part of my story. I let my sponsees know that I grew up as a paperwork disaster & therefore, keep my stepwork on wordpress, marked "private," so that no on sees my ish. I have some stuff on there, that I don't mind if it's read. I always wanted to be a writer. In 8th grade, I was on some kind of Speech Team with the local Catholic School. I won some sort of a contest, won a dictionary & had my picture taken with former Iran Contra Affair Hostage, Joseph Ciccippio. In 12th Grade, I wrote a poem off the top of my head, while the English Teacher Sister was going over a Read Magazine contest. My entry won the contest, appeared in the Magazine; I met Maya Angelou & read my poem on PBS' MacNeil/Lehrer report which aired 07/04/95, I believe. I had a copy, but shared it with kids where I taught in a psychiatric facility & the copy was "taken," I believe, "to punish me for my transgressions as an educator." I hope that student has healed & thrives now. As for myself, this is the best that I have ever been. Time for a meeting. 8:30 AM January 8, 2021

I have been on here for quite some time, but occasionally, my partner, is also going to start joining me, for meetings that strike his own personal Recovery fancy.

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