Oh, SNAP. In Sobriety, I’ve Discovered A New Addiction To Multiple Things.


What-O-What am I supposed to do now that I’ve acknowledged my new addiction to kindness, hand holding, soft kisses, Mochas, helpful intentions, honesty, smiles, children laughing, babies smiling, warm covers, and good milk chocolate?

Hm. Maybe Life’s just not so bad after all …

How Best To Unite?

People have to want to hold hands.

We need to start using our brains and employing a little intelligence rather than using words that bring to mind physical engagement. Rather than trying to convert the other group, which only causes them to drag their heels and dig in further, we need to figure out how to walk away and let them catch up when they’re ready. Let the idea “being part of” be their idea.

If we’re really one country, isn’t NOW just as good a time as any to start acting like it? It seems like it’s time for our country to grow the fuck up.

*** On a side note – I think Melania Trump needs to stick with using words that are natural to her vocabulary. The word ‘salacious’ cannot possibly be in there.

He Peed On The Guest Bed. Again.


My 9 month old Tomcat has started to pee on my guest bed. I just discovered that he’s done it again this morning – for the 3rd time in two weeks. And his freaking cat box is two feet from the bed. AND IT’S CLEAN. I clean that thing religiously – and STILL he pees on the bed. I haven’t had him fixed – yet – but he does have an appointment for this next month. I don’t know what to do. I’ve sprayed the bed with Better Homes & Gardens Essential Oil Infused with Frankincense & Patchouli AROMATHERAPY (smells really good) and he’s still peeing on it. 🤔

I finally stripped the bed for good and tipped it on its side against the wall.

What’s a cat parent to do? I took the earliest vet appointment available. Email me at LumenandNyx@gmail.com if you think you can help. Please!😶

When Is The Last Time You Felt Carefree?


What the hell is that – right? Who feels carefree anymore? I do. And it actually feels really good! What a cool emotion! I forgot all about this one!

It’s so freeing knowing what I can and can’t control. What I am and am not responsible for. It’s put me into a great mood this morning. And my unfixed tomcat even peed on the bed in the guest bedroom. I have every reason to be HELLA pissed off, but I’m not. I’m doing laundry and then I’m going to have a delicious lunch and go for a drive with a friend in a few.

Create your happy Sunday everybody! It’s not going to just show up for you!

Has ANYONE Seen This Man?!

He’s Not Dead.

Last seen leaving the Delta Oaks area around 9:30 p.m. last night in a off white/cream colored convertible Ford Mustang. He was wearing baggy blue jeans, black walking shoes and a long sleeved, grey waffle textured hoodie over a blue T-shirt.

He’s not armed, probably hungry, and extremely chatty. It might also be helpful to know he’s never owned a cat.

Please call …. wait a sec. wait a minute.

Hold on. I think I hear something!

Is that … ? What the – – – Is that … Thunder?

Okay. Never mind. Found him. Snoring. Apparently he’d rolled under the couch.

Everything’s okay. Everyone can go home…

At What Age Will You Start Eating Whatever You Want – Whenever You Want?

A friend of mine keeps this place in business!

I have friend in his late 50s who, if you didn’t know how old he is, you’d never guess 57, which would be accurate. He looks at least ten years younger. And if we covered his HEAD and guessed his age based only on how his body looks – most of us would guess he’s in his mid-30s. He is solid as a rock. Broad shoulders, tight abs, hard legs, 5’11 and 160lbs. He’s as healthy as can be and he eats junk food like we’re in the middle of a nuclear winter.

I try. I do. I try to get him to consider the fact that if he continues to eat that crap, his body – eventually – is going to rebel. I don’t know how it’ll rebel or when, I just feel certain it will. If he could have a Big Mac every day, he would. Those are his favorite. And French Fries. And chocolate candy bars. And Jelly Beans.

I, on the other hand, eat healthy stuff. Going to get dinner with him is a nightmare and we usually wind up having to go the grocery store so we can each grab something we like to eat.

At what age do you give up, throw all your dedication and commitment out the window, and start eating whatever the hell you want? I just can’t see myself doing that. He, on the other hand, doesn’t give a shit. He simply doesn’t care. And on top of it, more than the taste, I think it’s the price that pleases him the most. Okay, he isn’t even broke.

What’s a friend to do? … I’ve let it go. I turn on Chopped and willingly lose myself in fierce food competition.

Does Anyone Identify With This?

I don’t.

When alcoholics. or addicts, are in the throes of detox and trying to get sober/clean – it’s nearly impossible for us to identify with a sober person dealing with us. It’s hard enough for folks to identify with one another when everyone involved is sober. But when one in the party of two or more is intoxicated or sick and detoxing – the sick one is incapable of being selfless. We’re too wrapped up in our own pain. We’re blinded by it. We’re sick and our sickness is engulfing.

I don’t agree that it’s another person’s job or obligation to hold our hand while we try come in from the darkness of addiction. But it is a gift when they do.

It Only Took 23 Years!

23 Years. POOF.

It took me 23 years, seven residential treatment centers, numerous outpatient treatment, groups, sponsors, meetings, counselors, therapists, hospitals and jail to finally figure out that if I wanted to get sober and stay sober, I had to continue doing one thing – the same thing – not drinking. That’s it. That one thing. Everything else and anything else I did or might do was secondary. I wanted desperately to get sober and to stay sober, but that didn’t matter either. I had to become a non-drinker, which meant that no matter what the fuck happened or how I felt about it – drinking was not an option. I had loads of OTHER options – but not drinking.

I think that becoming a non-drinker, permanently, is a place folks have to move into inside their own heads. Some folks need help staying in there, others do okay on their own. Either way – it’s no small miracle to arrive and move-in for the duration.

You Need To Move Your Bad Breath Away From Me And My Artwork.

The following is an excerpt from my book, Saturation: A Memoir.

The night aide was new. That she was trying to overcome her boredom, which I could understand because there was nothing to do at 1:00 a.m., by occupying her time with me and the other two residents was annoying. She should have brought a better book to work. I was already wishing I hadn’t greeted her when she decided to drill me first about my art project.

“What are you working on?” She asked, leaning way too close to me and my project.

“My collage.” I replied, pushing my artwork away from her and scooching my chair over. Her breath smelled.

“Oh! FUN! What’s your collage about?” She asked, oblivious to my discomfort. She was way too happy for 1:00 a.m.

“Suffering and death and stuff.” I answered as I squished a light blue fuzzy ball hard into the center of some sparklies for emphasis. But instead of leaning back up or stepping away, she just tuned her head to look at me. In response, I leaned away from her without moving my chair again. “Oh.” She said, frowning. “What about life?”

“Life?” I asked. “Like the blood running from all the slits I’ve made to my wrist? THAT life?” I could only raise my eyebrows at her by this point. She was in my personal space and she was asking personal questions about my assignment that she was not supposed to be asking. It was my understanding that only counselors were permitted to ask us details of our assignments. This woman was no counselor.

Once she decided I didn’t want to play nicely, she moved on to the new resident at the next table. And once I overheard the aide ask the resident if she wanted her to listen to her 1st-Step, I flew into Mama Bear mode.

“YOU’RE NOT ALLOWED TO ASK HER THAT!” I bellowed at the night aide. Even I flinched at the ferocity of my attack. I found her blatant disrespect astonishing.

I’d had it up to my hairline with some of the staff taking advantage of their positions of authority with us. It happened consistently and I was tired of watching it. Too many of the residents and staff seemed oblivious to the idea of forming and enforcing personal boundaries.

I got angry that this night aide asked the resident if she could listen to her 1st-Step and I got even angrier when the resident agreed to read it to her. We weren’t supposed to share the details of our assignments with anyone except the members of our group.

What was taking place at that moment was just one more breach of a resident’s personal boundaries. It was an over exertion, an over extension, and an abuse of a staff member’s authority. Not on my watch … that was my attitude. Of course, I was a resident and this discussion did not include me. But I felt like they’d made it my business by allowing me to overhear them. I was only trying to protect the resident. Okay, I was trying to correct the staff member, too.

(To be continued…)

Which Team Are You On?

Oh wait. That’s the fucking problem. Rather than everyone being on the same team – we use that word, TEAM, to make ourselves feel secure about the division we create among ourselves. Rather than seeing the division created, we see only our place on our side – within our team. What about the bigger picture? Where’d that image go?

This can be applied to politics, to recovery groups, to anything that creates division and unnecessary competition when everyone is working toward the same goal in the first place.

What the fuck?!

Can Donald Trump Be Persuaded to Leave Office?

Please please please

Will members of his own party be able to persuade Donald Trump to quit the job of the Presidency? If these people vow to stay on in their positions and vow to continue to support him for the next 13 days if he leaves office immediately – what might our country look like for the next two weeks? I’d love to find out.

I’m keeping my fingers crossed.

What Speaks To Your Heart?


Sometimes, I remind folks that when we decide to get sober and leave our drug of choice behind, essentially – we’re breaking up with it. My relationship was with alcohol and drinking it. Alcohol was always there for me – as long as I had the $$$ to buy it. I knew where to find it and I knew what to expect once I drank some.

Over time, as I continued to drink, it began to abuse me as much as I abused it. It began to hurt. Over time, I had to ingest more to feel the same effects. Over time, I started to feel badly without having had any. Over time, I began to start drinking earlier and earlier every day because if I didn’t, I would get physically sick. And over time – everything I did revolved around alcohol and drinking.

Did I have any alcohol? Where did I plan to buy some? How much would I get? What kind would I buy? How much money did I have or need? Where could I hide it? How soon did I need it? What might be the best route to go get it? Could I afford enough for the following morning?

It was pretty fucked up. Thoughts like those consumed me.

Once I got sober, I had to reinvent myself and discover which activities I could do – outside work – that spoke to my heart. And in the place of drinking, I started to do those things. I read a lot. I write. Journal. I bought a couple of kittens and I take care of them. I exercise. I have a boyfriend again. I cook. And then I go to bed, just to start all over again the next day. And this has been going on for 10 months. I am all too aware of the passing of time and that it no longer feels good to go to bed feeling as though I didn’t accomplish at least one small task that day. While I don’t want to avoid what occurs within me during sobriety by staying too busy, I can’t very well lay around looking at the ceiling all day either.

What speaks to your heart? Are you listening?

Are You Willing To Pay?

There’s A Price To Pay

Getting sober isn’t for the timid. Once those of us who abused alcohol to the point of no return decide we want to be sober – getting sober is going to cost us. Detoxing from alcohol is painful, draining, scary and lonely.

Alcoholics who want to get sober have to be willing to suffer. That’s the price. Once we do achieve sobriety, with the right attitude, the rewards are immeasurable. This is my experience.

You Think I Can’t Do It? Watch Me.

Alcoholics don’t need to be told what they can’t do. First of all – it’s nobody’s place to tell another person what they cannot do. And second of all – regardless the remoteness of success – alcoholics deserve to be told what they CAN do. Whether they might fail or not is beside the point. Whether they might seek help or not is beside the point. Whether they might have to try again is beside the point. Alcoholics need to be encouraged. We need a good reason to make an effort. We need to believe we CAN do things so that we’ll bother to TRY in the first place.

It really chaps my ass to read advice from others that says that another person can’t do something like get sober without help because that isn’t true. It’s one thing to say, “Yo – I didn’t get sober alone.” But to tell another person that he or she can’t get sober alone – especially when they leave out their own story – is wrong. Another person can’t know that about someone else. It’s discouraging to tell others what they can’t do. And it’s UNHELPFUL. If people would stick to their own stories and remember what it feels like to be encouraged by someone who can identify with them, we might read about more successes at attempts at sobriety.

Isn’t this something we all want? To see others succeed?

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