20 June 2013
Twenty-five Years
Last Sunday, I celebrated 23 years married and 25 years clean.
"If I had a blog," the Captain said, "I would probably write a post about this big anniversary so your readers could have something new to read on the bus as they commute to and from their stressful jobs in the city. You know, if I had a blog."
I agreed. Twenty-five years clean is significant. Amazing, if you look at the chunk of time as a whole. Inconceivable, when one is newly detoxed and rehabbing at a facility housed on the grounds of a mental institution. Daunting, when you're clutching a styrofoam cup of bad coffee in the back of a smoky 12-Step room.
I imagine this is why time is broken down into smaller bits. What seems insurmountable in the long run can be managed for a minute, an hour, and eventually, the twenty-four hours in a day. Before you know it, life's moments become years.
I follow two calendars: the Gregorian Year and the School Year. The School Year is a little like pregnancy-it lasts nine months, there is great anticipation, struggle, and pain, and at the end you just want it to be over. Nevertheless, in June--as with all my births--there is sadness mixed with joy, a profound sense of time passing, a finality untempered by the shimmer of hope that softens the blow of the true year's end.
This School Year has been particularly grueling. My mother's health deteriorated rapidly in September, she passed away the day after Thanksgiving, everyone got some version of the flu in December, Five's anxiety bloomed in March, he was hospitalized in April, and Two had his appendix removed in May. If ever there was reason to celebrate the end of June, this would be it.
And yet...
Once you know that minutes become hours and hours become days and days become years, what is a blessing in recovery can be a curse in life. Grinding through, gutting it out, pushing on--these have been my survival skills this year, and in the beginning of my recovery it's how I stayed clean. But now I know it's no way to live.Time is a gift taken for granted, full of moments to be savored, even when they're painful. This School Year has left my heart sore and my soul battered, but I wouldn't wish any of it away.
Because twenty-five Junes ago I couldn't even imagine it.
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Good thing SOMEONE does have a blog! Lol, thankgawd for the Captain,
ReplyDeleteand the Deputy.
Congratulations, on both! I'm in a similar boat, rowing along beside you. Bailing out the leaky bottom, trying not to splash anyone in your craft. But we can wave across the water, from here to there...... yeah, I'm getting kinda nauseous now, and it ain't the seasickness.
(Also, why does the font look different?)
Life does require a lot of rowing to get to the smooth sailing. And you never know when a big storm will roll in and drench your efforts.
DeleteLet's agree to bail in opposite directions!
(The font looks okay from here-I think your computer is asserting it's own preferences.)
Congratulations on everything: staying sober, being married, and getting through this past school year, all of which have come with their own challenges. You are an amazing and strong woman and it is my great and grateful pleasure to know you, if only electronically.
ReplyDeleteAnd I agree: there has to be more than just getting through the days. I'm working on that myself, from the aspect of mental health issue struggles.
Thank you, and congratulations on making some big decisions this past year!
DeleteFour's school has a point system that resets three times a day, which means he gets more than one chance to make the day count. I think most of our lives are like that--we have to choose to try and reset the course of our days. That's not easy, especially when you're in the grip of anxiety, addiction, or depression. But the choice gets easier to make every day after you string a few together.
25 years of clean is a major accomplishment. 23 years of marriage is a major accomplishment. Surviving the year you just had is an accomplishment.
ReplyDeleteI know what you mean, though, by being torn between being glad you made it and being sad so much time has passed.
I'll be 56 in July and it seems like time is not just flying, it's going at warp speed.
I try not to project, but the other day I was thinking about how much time I have "left" in this world and it freaked me out. My father died when he was 55, my mother at 75. I really feel like thirty more years isn't enough, based on how quickly I got to 48.
Delete((Hugs)), my friend, FGBVs, and wishes of bright sparkles of joy and glimmers of hope to break up the grind of your days.
ReplyDeleteThank you. The fact that I got to sit and post is a glimmer of hope!
DeleteThank you for writing this.
ReplyDeleteThank you for reading it :-)
DeleteGo Megan!
ReplyDeleteThat's all. Just cheering you on.
As a former cheerleader, I appreciate the effort. Also, the Pea looks adorable with that megaphone.
DeleteMegan, you are an inspiration, baby! Carry on--you're doing it and with great panache! We celebrate 40 years of marriage on Sunday. I've been married twice as long as I wasn't married...and yet, it doesn't seem like 40 years have passed. We're still having fun and he's still charming my pants off, so I guess we're okay, eh?
ReplyDeleteThe Captain has charmed my pants off at least five times, which is how I ended up with this blog ;-)
DeleteCongratulations on 40 years! I remember when I got to the point where I had lived with the Captain for longer than my own father. It was strange but wonderful to know someone for so many years.
I am hugely impressed with both those accomplishments! Go you!!
ReplyDeleteYay me! Because I don't attend meetings anymore this is my way of letting the world know that life can be amazing without drugs. Thanks for the support!
DeleteConfetti for the accomplishments, hugs and cupcakes for the sad. People always say, "this too shall pass." But no one ever tells you how long it will take or how old you'll be when it's gone. Regardless, no matter how much time any of us have left, yours increased exponentially when you made your move 25 years ago. So good on ya. (And Happy Anniversary!)
ReplyDeleteThat's true. My father died when I was young, but I still had my mother. But losing her has made missing him even more pronounced.
ReplyDeleteThanks for the wishes, but especially the cupcakes!
Again, I'm late with the comment. This is a tremendous accomplishment! I had delusions of grandeur that I would make you some small token and send it to you. All the while forgetting that I'm not that organized. However, I promise the spirit was willing though the fleshy parts of me were weak.
ReplyDeleteI'm sorry that this year seemed to smack you around quite a bit. I'm sending hugs through the ether and hopes that your summer has healing and calming properties.
(Unrelated, I am highly annoyed that Google Reader has disappeared and until I find a suitable alternative, I will be sure to check back often so as not to miss any Yu Gi Oh.)
Gosh, it's like you have kids or some other thing equally time consuming that keeps you from reading my now sporadic blog posts! Get on that will you, and in return, I will try and respond in an equally speedy fashion.
ReplyDeleteThe summer is moving along at its normal two summer months to one winter month ratio, where the days fly by at an alarming but entertaining rate. I hope yours is progressing much more slowly because you have an outside-the-home-job to return to at the end.
(Keep me informed if that rumored family hootenanny happens, because I may come and crash your party...)