Getting to know me....

My daughter was grown but still living with me, and that was fine. I realized that I was her only parent, and she was my only daughter. I figured there was plenty of time for her to grow up and get out on her own....and I didn't have any intention of living with or marrying anyone for quite some time. I needed some time to get to know myself, to become comfortable in my own skin, and to learn to get along on my own. I didn't want my emotions to be tied up in a relationship so soon after my separation, and I knew that in order to become the woman I wanted to become, I would have to learn to like myself. My recovery had a lot to do with that, and I also wanted to get and stay sober without the hindrance of another person there....yes, dragging me down!! I had HAD it with men who just wanted to be taken care of, and being the one to do that! I needed to take care of ME!! What it took, I was going to stay sober, get to know me, and become a whole person again!

I was still working as the tourism coordinator when I moved into my new home. My office was at the chamber of commerce, right downtown, and I felt like I was in the center of all the activity there. I guess I was! A lot of people knew me, and I knew a lot of people too...but I didn't particularly like it. My heart was not really into it anymore. I wanted to have more of a private life, and that wasn't the way to go about it....but I kept going and kept working. I didn't feel, at the time, like I was doing the job justice. I wasn't sure how to go about 'marketing' Ark City, a town of 11,000 people close to the Oklahoma line, whose only claim to fame was the Cherokee Strip Land Rush in 1893. There were historical buildings, yes...there were a few things to do during the year, but there was no 'essence', per say...that I felt like I could market. I tried....I talked, went to meetings, did a lot of thinking, planned, traveled. I saw others marketing Kansas....other places, but I didn't seem to be able to market Ark City. I wasn't making really great money either, so I was looking around for something else.

It was during this time that I met a man on the internet....(actually that became a place where I met quite a few men!) and this particular one lived in Arkansas. I'll call him "Sam". I don't think I'll use his real name, because I've not been in contact with him for a while, and I think he likes it that way. But he seemed to be a nice guy. There were things about him that raised a red flag, if I stopped and thought about it. Like the fact that he was married. He told me, of course, that they were not living together, and he told me the reason....that they were in different towns, etc, etc. and that was good enough for me....at the time. We got together from time to time. He had a big Honda motorcycle, and he loved to work on it, put all this extra stuff on it, and make it as comfortable as he could. It was great! He would come up to my house, and then we would go for long rides. I loved it!! I love seeing the countryside on the back of a motorcycle. I think I always did, but his bike was very comfortable, and he made the rides alot of run. We even went to an NA campout on it one summer..probably 01 or 02, down in Oklahoma....pulling a camper/trailer behind the bike. It was a fun trip! He got along allrlight with my daughter, too, and that was important. I drove down to his apartment in Arkansas a couple times, a drive that I loved. Arkansas is a beautiful state. Of course this was after he had moved to a different town than his wife lived in, but I guess it didn't bother me at the time. We had our ups and downs, and I wanted to know what he was doing some of the time. After all, we were together, right?? Didn't I have the right to know what he was doing or who he was doing it with?? There were large gaps in our communications...and that bothered me....

I got a different job at a publishing company near Blackwell, Oklahoma. I thought it was going to be better money. The only thing was I had to drive a ways each morning and evening to get there. It was run by two women who were gay, which didn't bother me. What bothered me was that they, at least one of them, was a micro-manager, and she looked over everything that I did. Now, I understand when you have begun and built a company that you would want to oversee every thing that goes out the door. But, I just wasn't comfortable with that....So by mutual consent, we parted ways. I was only a few weeks without a job...and found the reporter job at the Winfield Courier....about 10 miles from where I lived. "Sam" and I were no longer communicating, by his own doing. In fact, he cut off communication with me. This was to happen to me again...and again...with other people.

I liked it there....it was a good job, even though it didn't pay well. I was there about a year and a half I guess. I met some great people, too. Roy, the managing editor, was a guy who I'd met in leadership class a couple years before. I'm sure that had a lot to do with why I got the job...maybe. Judith, the lifestyles editor and a few years older than me, is an opinionated woman who I ended up really liking, even though we locked horns a few times while I was there. I had my own desk, and got along with everyone in the newsroom. The paper is in an old building there in Winfield, and the newsroom is crammed in a very small space. It was lively and noisy, with discussions and questions being thrown around all the time. Other areas of the paper complained that we were too noisy, but I like a newsroom to be that way, sometimes!! How else are you going to know about things and be able to form your own opinions?? I covered the county commission, the courtroom, and a whatever else happened in town. I didn't cover the board of education or the city. That was for someone else. I did get to cover the festivals and musical events, which I liked...sometimes the county fair and the veterans stuff.

While at the Courier, I went to the Pioneer Days at the Cherokee Strip Land Rush museum in Ark City....to cover their festival. There I met the man that I would be with for the next year or so.....

A new life...finally

I guess it wasn't long after Sept. 11 that I made the decision to move out of my house that I shared with my second husband. I had been thinking about it for a while...obviously...and had talked about it with my sponsor. I had only been sober since August 17 of that year, and I was still being watchful and careful of anything extreme that would disrupt that fragile state of mind that I had. Usually, when getting sober, we are told not to make any large decisions about our lives - divorce, moving, job...anything of that nature. But, my sponsor and I agreed that it would be best for me to do this. That this was the only way I was going to stay sober, and I had to do it. I really felt it was right. Do you ever get that feeling inside you...that something is just right? It felt that way. And I was just learning to trust that feeling inside me....that gut feeling that tells you that something is the very thing you are supposed to do!

I was going to meetings every day, like I knew that I needed to. I had made a commitment to my recovery this time. I was going to do anything it took to stay sober, even if it meant leaving my husband who drove me crazy, even if it meant going to a meeting every day....several times a day, if necessary!! This was a town that I had lived in for many years, and I knew what I needed to do...where I needed to go, and where NOT to go! I went about my daily life, went to work, and took care of my daughter.

She and I were looking at houses to possibly buy and move into. We were in contact with a realtor and I had told her my price range...the one we looked at were ok...and some were not. Chelsea and I had a good time looking though, and I think it helped to bring us closer together! Even though my dad was going to help me out with a down payment, my credit was bad, and I wasn't sure how I was going to swing the loan. But we came across a house that that owner would sell on contract for deed. It didn't take long, in realty terms, to make an offer and get it accepted. Chelsea and I moved into the house in December of 2001. It was a tough move, in many ways. I didn't like leaving what was familiar, even though it was not my favorite place to be. I was leaving my husband, which was hard as well. And I was embarking on a new life...

At the same time as I was leaving my husband, buying a new home, getting and trying to stay sober, I was also going through menopause...and I was kind of a mess, mentally! My doctor put me on an antidepressant, which I really needed at the time. It worked, and I felt pretty good. But each day was a struggle for me, just putting one foot in front of the other, being nice to people and nice to myself, and still trying to work and pay bills and do all the daily stuff that was expected of me. I experienced at that time a deep, dark depression that I will not soon forget. It felt miserable. I could see myself getting deeper and deeper into it and not being about to do anything about it. I didn't care about anything, and nothing, really, made me happy. Now, I had enough 'responsibility' ingrained in me that I put on a happy face most of the time...when it was possible. But inside, I had that depression that nothing seemed to be able to cure. It is horrible!!

I did things that made me happy, though. I found things that I loved...like bubble baths, nice conversations, sparkling water....and I was determined to make things good with my daughter. She was still in her adolescent stage, but was growing up fast. She was also glad to get out of the house that I shared with my second husband and get into our own place. She is an organizer, so she was in her element!! She loved being the mom to me as we were organizing the new place!! I had lots of dreams and visions for my new home, but it was good to just get into my own place!! I was finally on my own!!

In my head I visualized people coming over and having coffee in my kitchen, at my table, feeling good and comfortable and AT HOME in my new place. I could see a garden and potted plants hanging on the porch. I could see lilac bushes in the side yard and fruit trees growing. Mostly, I pictured serenity, peace, tranquility....and that was my goal for my life.

Terrorism..

It was right before I moved out of the trailer into my own house...September 2001. I was getting ready for work that morning, and I had Good Morning America on the tv, glancing at it every now and then as I rushed through the living room. I stopped, though, when I saw one of the twin Trade Center towers on fire, smoke billowing out of it, and a panicky-sounding news anchor talking hurriedly. I couldn't really stop and listen, though. I had to get to work. It was almost 8 a.m. and I had to go!!

When I got to work, though, there was talk among the others, and everyone in town, about how the World Trade Centers had been hit by a plane and had exploded and were on fire...and then had collapsed! Oh....how that made me feel....! I was shocked, awed, confused, and wondering what in the world was happening!

As the news unfolded, we were informed about the terrorists that had piloted the planes into the side of the towers, one and then another...and then how the towers had gone down right in the middle of New York City! All day...on the news...nothing but stories and reports of what had happened. We were all just in shock. How could this happen? What would happen now? How many people were in there? What would happen to the survivors? To the folks that were close to the buildings? To the rest of the people in my city? So many questions went through my mind...and I just couldn't grasp it all.

In the small Kansas town where I lived, people were trying to find ways to show their support. Flags went up everywhere. Yellow ribbons. Red, white and blue was everywhere! The lines at the gas stations were long, because someone had started a rumor that the gas would be in short supply because of this disaster. I"m not sure where that came from, but I ignored it. I figured I had bigger things to worry about than where my gas was going to come from, and how much it cost. I would wait and see.

Then, we heard about the plane crashing at the Pentago, another devastating and confusing time for all of us. What was going on?

I remember sitting in the laundromat...later that week...and seeing the replay on their little television, once again, of the planes flying into the side of the tall trade center buildings....and feeling tears come to my eyes. Why? I asked myself. Why? Why would anyone do that and kill so many people!? WHY??