Addict · Addiction · Bloggess · dogs · Family · Farmer · Life · Life story · love · Recovery

He Rescued Me….

It took me many years to understand what love is. Countless hours and many tears. Most of those tears were self inflicted with the choices I chose to endure for the interpretation of what I thought love was for so long. What I thought I deserved. What I thought I was worth. I was very sick in the disease of my addiction for many years to know any other way.

Gratefully that changed when I found a new way to live through the 12 step program that I actively participate in. I say actively because for me it takes a daily application of spiritual principles followed up with some traditions to live the way I do, lest I fall into the pit of despair – which is my old ways of thinking. In turn that brings up my old ways of speaking and reacting too, but I digress.

I haven’t really written anything in some time. If I write it is usually about life. My life. I tend not write about the same thing in a million different ways thinking to myself that it is something new. It’s not. Especially if the same people tend to read your material once written. It can turn out to be the same regurgitated rhetoric in some new shape or form, just another day. Writing in some ways is about healing. I hope to continue to write and I always hope to continue to heal.

Today was a hard day. I had to make a decision to put my first love in this new way of life down. My dog Snoopy. Sure I love the kids and yes I love myself, but the truth of the matter is I didn’t even know what love was until the age of 42. Hence the reason for the tattoo on my left shoulder as a subtle reminder.  Snoopy was a good dog. He was a rescue dog. He was our family dog and ultimately my dog.

Snoopy was a Beagle, my big fat Beagle. I spent countless hours and days scouring kennels all over Northern California from my cubicle for what would eventually be him. His given name was Tonka. We all showed up together and spent some time with him before making the decision to bring him home that day. I never knew how old he really was, maybe three or four? Irene quickly changed his name to Snoopy and he never answered to Tonka again.

The kennel gave me his folder and a few stories. Snoopy was a returnee to the them. Even after being micro-chipped. Apparently he escaped from his new owners and was found roaming the streets of Auburn before being taken to the kennel again. The new owners refused to pick him up and they said never answered their phone. How sad for Snoopy.

Snoopy never left me. He never ran from me. He loved me and he loved my home. I loved my home. It was safe I suppose for him? He had an entire back forty to markup daily. There was always something new, especially when I decided to bring home chickens.

They say, as a joke, get a plant. If you can keep the plant alive you may be ready for something else. Well if you want to know about unconditional love, get a dog. Get a rescue dog. Furthermore, get a Beagle. They are absolute emotionless dogs. His face always looked so somber. He was not a jumper and never really a barker unless food was involved. Actually that was a habit he picked up near the end. He was not too old to pick up new tricks.

Snoopy rescued me. He gave me something to care for. Someone to love. I loved him and he loved me right back with no expectations! I stayed in there until far after the end. It was so quick. They didn’t say it would be that quick. They did say it would be painless. He was in so much pain. I don’t think I will get another dog. I think I am done for a while. With so much I am done.

Yesterday I made a decision to let all my worldly possessions go. I didn’t mean this one too! I may let it all go, but I will keep this.

The Chicken Lady


Addict · Addiction · Bloggess · Life · Life story · Recovery

The Gifts from a Coffee Date….

Well it has been just over thirty days since my relationship with a man I sincerely thought I would have spent the rest of my life with came to an abrupt halt. I don’t regret a moment, not one. I am truly saddened by the end result which garnered more than a few tears. However I am finally returning to the tears of joy that seemed to be, at the time, only tears of sorrow. Those tears are as if- I am guessing- what death would be like? My best friend is gone. Vanished in a moment is the person I shared everything with. The hopes and dreams for a future with him are wiped away. In truth I had stopped sharing everything some time earlier. I no longer felt the safety he had once provided in me. The safety of my soul and heart. The voice I once loved so much had turned to hurt with a tone I could not fathom to take any further.

I am not sure how a person I loved so much forgot how to speak to me with kindness? Stopped caring completely how he treated me at all. All I know is how it made me feel day in and day out. How I could no longer take “it” the “it” I speak of varies I suppose from person to person, for me I have had too much of it in my lifetime to bear anymore. The constant walking on eggshells. Is this going to be a good day?  Those feelings of dread and despair of what my phone would say at any given moment. In actuality is was only a horrible eight days out of 1,095- but who’s counting? Those eight days washed away so much, the last four I will choose to remember- for now.

I finally chose to delete every memory from my phone and with a click of a button I deleted that person from my social life as well, my social media life that is. It is funny because prior to that relationship the social media life was the only life I lived. He changed that. I guess I changed it by asking him out to coffee that day?

I gained so much from him. I gained the freedom to go out and live life, not just from a computer screen. To stop watching it go by! To take chances! I took a chance with him and I will never regret it. He wasn’t the first man I asked to coffee- he was the second. The first was many years earlier and a state or two away?  I wasn’t ready for coffee then yet anyway, possibly the reason it never happened.

Well this did happen. All of it happened. The chapter is closed, the page is turned and the life goes on- my life. My next coffee date happened sooner than I had expected – just days later and to my surprise happened on my birthday. A young lady named Jayden asked me out to join her parents and her for coffee and I said yes. She had no clue it was my birthday. No one did. I knew though and my God knew and what a gift it turned out to be.

Jayden is my biological daughter. She is my gift and the best gift ever. I have been given many gifts but this one took me by utter surprise. How could a women completely block an entire year of her life out let alone delivering a baby? Rather easily actually. The desperation and degradation I had allowed in my life at the time and the violence as well made it easy to block entire months and years out.

The life I was living was no life at all. I was in hell, a self-imposed hell. The insanity, the way I spoke to the man I was spending my life with and the way he spoke to me I choose to not to write about now and definitely not repeat- ever. Would you believe I left that man and dug deeper into insanity with another? I did. Have you ever wrapped your hands around the hands of the person you loved with everything in your soul holding a gun to your head saying pull the trigger? I would marry that one!

It was my life I was constantly trying to take out. I no longer wanted to live it and since I couldn’t kill myself with drugs and I had tried, I am sure he could do the trick. I remember well the plans- suicide by cop. It would be my overdose that saved me from that twenty-two hour standoff, my overdose and God.

The lines we draw and the boundaries we enforce only work if we follow them. Ultimately it was those lines that I allowed this past relationship to cross that I had to choose eventually not to blur again and to leave for good. I know what it is like to love someone so much and to leave. My spirit was hurting. I had allowed it and I refuse to allow it again. When they say the apple doesn’t fall far from the tree- well that all made sense in the end.

Watching someone you love become so filled with furry and anger, by every move that you make. Unwilling to look into your eyes and see the woman he loves is in fear is not how I choose to live anymore. I have lived that life before. The gift from that experience is knowledge. I no longer want to live like that. I am grateful for all the experiences that the three years with him gave me, mostly the awareness of I have so much more life I want to live.

The Chicken Lady