My first date

Reverb today asks, what central story is at the core of you. My core, eh? I have a few stories that have defined my life, but none more than another moment in time.

It was the night of my first official date. Jay was taking me to the movies, and to dinner. I was 15, and so excited to be let out "alone" with him. Of course, his dad would accompany us everywhere, but that didn't matter. We were still together, still almost alone in public. We could walk together and hold hands, kiss in the movie theater, just chat over dinner. I was madly in love for the first time, and ready to share my first date with him.

His dad came in the red van and opened the door for me. Out stepped Jay with a bright red rose in hand, all dressed to the nines. I had on my best dress, and he escorted me to the car, assuring my dad that I would be back before 9.

I don't remember any of the date, but I do remember them dropping me off later to an empty house. No car was in the driveway, and the house was dark. Where could my parents have gone this late? I knew something must be up. Amazingly, I hadn't lost my key that week, and I let myself in the front door. I called out, and then noticed a note on the staircase.

"Took mom to the hospital. Be back for you. Dad."

And I knew. It wasn't just a trip to the hospital. She had no fever, no cold, no broken arm or leg. It was her mind which had gone. What had happened? Why had they left me alone? Why couldn't I be a part of whatever was happening? I sat down on the stairs and wept for the last time in years. How long I sat there, I couldn't tell you, but my dad came in to find me sitting there, and brought me to the car. "Your mom took an overdose. She's ok, but she doesn't want to see anyone." We went anyway, and sat in the waiting room for hours until she changed her mind.

I remember seeing her face; she was sitting up and smiling, but she looked pale, unlike herself. The rest of it fades to black, but that's when I knew everything was different. That I wasn't wrong about how strange things had become at home. I wasn't losing my mind. She was.

Something funny happened on the way to the basement

Reverb asks, what's the most memorable gift, tangible or emotional, you received this year? Well, we've already discussed the gift of unemployment, my gift of Europe to myself, Adam's Christmas kiss, and the fact that Angry Birds on the iPad has become an amazing gift of laziness, but there's a nice little gift I just received for the end of the year.

There's a little store downstairs in my dad's apartment building. He has just the basics: laundry detergent, boxed dinners, wine, laundry, and packages. He's a busy guy, with two buildings and 18 floors each of apartments. He seems to know everyone, and is always smiling and chatting when I go down to get packages. He's helped me numerous times by emailing when something urgent comes in.

The other day my dad went down to get something and Mohammed looked especially busy. "You know, my daughter is unemployed. She could help you during the holidays." And so it began. I brushed off my dad's comment when he told me later, but this morning Mohammed emailed me and asked me to come down. Because I can't say no, I went.

And something funny happened. I walked in and immediately he began showing me how to do stuff and telling me how much things were. "So when you get the laundry you tag it like this," he said, showing me where to staple those little pink tags you get on your dry cleaning. Apparently they go through dry cleaning just fine. I always wondered. "Always check id. It's not worth the fine."

"I'm going home overseas next month, and I'll put you in charge. You're responsible. You've worked retail before, right?" "Right," I said. Though it's been a while.

And so right then and there, Mohammed trusted me with his store. Someone saw something in me and gave me responsibility without even seeing me in action. Someone hired me. I know, it's not a full-time job, and it's not permanent, but someone saw fit to hire me after an interview. I'm not worthless, after all. I can work. And with that simple little action, Mohammed gave me some self-esteem back.

From this moment

It only took a second or two, but what happened changed the course of my life, and has reverberated till this day. Reverb asks today, what was a defining moment of this year or a series of events? As you all know this year was full of them, but the moment that effected (and affected) me most took seconds.

There I was, peacefully spacing out and partly working on three things at once. In my office with the sunny, sliding glass doors and the beautiful view of the neighboring building's wall, I sat with the heater on trying to get warm. It was forever cold in my office, despite the seasonal weather outside. Piled in the corner were boxes for an event I was organizing, and I had just gotten off the phone with the caterer, preparing for a tasting the next day.

My office mate was out for the day, so the only sounds in my office were the low hum of the radio; more like white noise taking up a portion of my brain. I checked email again, and glanced at Facebook, avoiding the massive spreadsheet on my screen.

Then he walked in. "This isn't working. I need you to go talk to David." And out he walked. A second, a moment, that's all there was. I didn't know what to think. Just last week he told me I was doing a great job, so I wasn't sure what the reprimand was referring too, but I had a feeling, a feeling deep in my gut that something was really wrong.

I walked two offices over to HR and closed the door. I sat in his black leather swirly chair, and said plainly, "I don't know what just happened. What just happened?"

"Anne, we have to let you go."

Let me go? Let me go where? What would happen without that space behind the big oak desk? "We won't contest unemployment," he said. "Let's go get your things."

And so I walked out. In minutes it was over. I was in my car, weeping for the first time in months. I was stunned. Everything would have to change. Even with unemployment I wouldn't be able to stay where I was; I would have to move in with my dad. Medical insurance companies would deny me medications, and I would have to desperately hunt for the pills that keep me alive. My dog would go to my mom to live, along with my car. I wouldn't find a job in this economy. I wouldn't be able to keep my life. Everything would change.

And everything did change. Now, I sit here on the beige couch under the single floor lamp ignoring the spreadsheet of jobs in front of me, and occasionally glancing at Facebook. I've been unemployed for 4 months, and I've worn a spot in this couch. Everything changed.

Joy to the world, the dog has come

Reverb: What was one of your most joyful ordinary moments this year?

Ordinary? Well, I could say getting cookies in the mail, when Adam came out of the airport, or getting fired, but none of those were ordinary moments. All of them were once in a lifetime, or extraordinary events. But one thing that happened all the time made me especially happy one day.

I had had a bad day at work, as usual. I was feeling like I wanted to scream, or cry, or both. My boss just... well... he was just him. I left work downhearted and walked to my car across four lanes of traffic, in the concrete jungle. I was thinking how I just needed to get away, how I needed a new job, how I was just depressed. I had been depressed for half a year, at least. Just a low level depression, but enough to put me to bed at 8am every night.

I drove down the highway contemplating change. Anything to get out of where I was - to feel better. I thought about going home for a week, or just upright moving somewhere else. I thought about taking a day off and heading for the mountains. I daydreamed all the way home.

But when I walked in the door I was greeted with squeaking and kisses. He leaped into my arms and licked my face, and I was happy again. Just that simple love of a dog made everything else alright. Everything in that moment was joy and love; the love of a little dog.

And now he's over at my mom's, and has really become her dog. It makes me a little sad, and I miss him, but both of them are happy, and that makes me happy. I'm glad I could give her something to love that would love her back in the same way.

So one tiny little dog has caused innumerable joy across my family. Thanks puppy.

Uncertainty

Reverb today asks: What was the best moment that could serve as proof that everything is going to be alright? And how will you incorporate that discovery into the year ahead?

I could say the moment my therapist reminded me how lucky I am to have a safe place to fall. I could say watching snow fall and remembering why I wanted to come back here in the first place. I could say a lot of things about this year. But, they might be false memories. I don't know if everything is going to be alright.

There's so much uncertainty in my life right now: joblessness, dealing with addictions and wondering if I can do it on my own, Adam, finding a place to live, medical coverage. Everything is up in the air. I feel like I can't put down roots anywhere. Like the therapist says, I'm in limbo.

So is it all going to be alright? Yes, I'm sure it will be. Do I believe it yet? Maybe.

Five year plan

Reverb tonight asks what I would say to myself if I could talk to me 5 years from now. What advice would I give? What would that 5 years wiser (and still young) woman say to this lost and confused one?

I can only imagine she'd say, "Don't worry, we're all lost and confused. Sure, you were, as they say, down on your luck for a while, but you know what? It was a really great period of growth for you. Don't you remember how great 2010 was? All the things you did? All the things you gave up? You should have been a little more proud of yourself instead of focusing your self-worth on the fact that you got fired from a job you hated, and by a crazy person. Really, Anne! Come on, now, give yourself a pat on the back for not drinking through that one."

Because she's me, she wouldn't ruin any of the surprises, either. "Where do you end up getting a job? Well, you'll just have to wait and see. You'll have to go through it to find out if you and Adam ever become anything but good friends. And marriage? Children? Honestly, 5 years from now? Maybe a stretch for you, love."

I really wonder what she'll look like. Will her hair be shorter? Will it be going grey or will she be coloring it? Will cigarettes have aged her face though she no longer smokes? Does she smoke again? Is she still sober? I hope she's just as amazing then as she is now.

Ah, young me, you were so cool

Dear self,

You didn't do anything wrong. I'm not here to tell you how to live your life, because I know you'll never listen - you never do, you just jump. I'm here to tell you that your instincts have been pretty right on. You know what you want, and you go and get it. You're doing a great job.

I'll tell you some things you already know: that degree? Just a pretty piece of paper, and no, you'll never frame it. It's in the closet at dad's house still in the roll they mailed it in. But it's a pretty green roll. And, yeah, rely on that counseling office a little more. I think you can get out of it more than they're giving, though they'll always be really good to you. Just try a little harder.

You made the right friend back there, and she took you to a place that will give you friends for life, and the love of your life. You already know him, you just don't think of him like that. He's just a sweet and crazy guy, right now, but really look in his eyes - you love him. You still do. You always will.

And that's the one thing I might want to tell you: it's about him. But you know what? I'm not going to. Things turn out the way they're supposed to, and right now there's a me in the future writing to the current me and telling me how it all worked out. Or how it's still going on. But I won't spoil the surprises for you. Just keep up the good work.

Oh, and maybe just throw away the sharp things. You can't hide them from her, but maybe hide them from you.

Love always,

Anne

A little of that healing touch

So false pride became the reverse side of that ruinous coin marked "Fear." - 12 & 12

Reverb today asks: how would you like to be healed in 2011. Oh, how wouldn't I. I suppose doing my fourth step, I'll figure out more about what's wrong with me in the first place, but what I really want, what I'd like to see healed is my ego. Oh! How wrong of an alcoholic, and how typical, to say it. After all, they say ego gets in the way of our path to sobriety. Ego is what keeps us drinking. We have to rid ourselves of pride and ego in order to beat this thing back.

But I'd really like a little pride back. A little ego. Maybe I should just call it self-love, or being proud of oneself. That's what I really mean, after all. It's tough to be unemployed and think of yourself as anything but a loser, especially in this town. It's a busy town, where the first question people ask is, "So what do you do? Who do you work for?" And I have to say, I'm job hunting. I suppose I could lie and say I'm taking some time off or something, and I sure don't have to say I was fired, but I'm taking that situation by situation. Some days I'm feeling creative and say I work for the state, and some days I just say I'm unemployed.

I would like a little pride healed up, though. I took a really big blow this year, and as time passes the wound just gets salted with every unemployment check I receive. And how would that all work? Does having a job really mean you have self-worth? No. I know it doesn't, but sometimes logic doesn't win. Sometimes you just feel things, and I feel worthless without a job. I feel like my pride is nonexistent. I sleep and don't leave the house. I feel like I have nothing to share with anyone (though I keep typing to you, apparently).

So yeah, 2011, I'll take some pride.

Let's build somethng together

"What do you want to try next year? Is there something you wanted to try in 2010? What happened when you did / didn’t go for it?" I'm digging these Reverb posts.

You know what I'd like to try? Longevity. Longevity, you say? How odd. Well, I have that impulsivity problem we talked about before. I like to jump from place to place, from thing to thing. I can't seem to stay in a job for more than a year and a half before I just have to get out, and I take the first thing that comes along. I don't wait to see what's coming, I just jump.

So what I want to try is longevity. I would like to make a commitment to my next job, and stay. Stay for maybe 5 years. Stay and grow in a job. Build relationships, and really give it a shot. I would like to move someplace, or even stay here, and stay for another 5 years at least. I would like to maybe get in a relationship that lasts more than a year and a half.

See, that seems to be my breaking point. After a year and a half I get bored with everything and everyone. I need something new, something refreshing. I get too close to people, or they get too close to me, and I have to push them away. I get too settled in a job, and I have to run away. Why am I afraid of commitment?

Wow, I just realized that. I'm afraid of commitment. Huh.

Lessons lie in challenges

One major lesson I learned this year, and am still learning, is how to be patient. I'm horrible with patience. I've never had a lick of it. I'm impulsive by nature, and it just doesn't seem to go with that innate characteristic.

But I am learning now. Trying to go through unemployment with a strong head and an optimistic view is tough! After being unemployed these 4 months (thank you Congress for extending the unemployment), I've learned that sometimes an interview doesn't get you a job. I've learned you can't even count on being the top candidate - sometimes circumstances don't lead to a job. And that all has led to patience. Patience waiting for that next call, and looking at it as just an interview, not a chance for a job. I've learned that I can't just jump into something. I've learned that being bored as hell at home doesn't mean I need to go get a retail job - I would lose my unemployment.

So patience. Patience is a virtue I still don't hold, but it's getting better.

Love is for keeps

"How has a friend changed you or your perspective on the world this year? Was this change gradual, or a sudden burst?"

It was a gradual change, and it took me a bit to notice, but it was all there: love and understanding. It wasn't one friend, but all of them. They showed me caring and compassion I've never known, or perhaps just never noticed.

As you all know by now, I quit drinking on May 27, 2010. I was wasted the night before, and realized I was wasting my life. I was filling that sad hole inside with booze and drugs, and I was miserable. I didn't want to end up 40 and that drunken embarrassment. And so I quit. I made up my mind, and I did it.

I got a sponsor and let myself follow all the traditions of AA. And I made friends, I loved it. I moved here 4 months later and got a new sponsor. "You hang out with people who drink?" she wondered. "Our friends when we were drinking hung out because we were fun; because we drank." Really? But I was pretty sure my friends loved me.

But as the months passed I noticed something. My relationships all changed. Something happened. Each day they counted on me a little bit more. I wasn't the one who would come over just to drink, and so they invited me over more. We had dinner and sat around drinking coffee. At parties it was always, "Is it ok if I have a drink? I don't have to if it makes you want one." They were so considerate of my new found sobriety.

As the months passed they relied on me more. They called me in the middle of the night to talk about their problems; they trusted me to be there for them and not to be drunkenly complaining about my life, or whatever I did blacked out on the phone. And so it all changed. Gradually, but my friends made my life better, and I contributed to theirs in a healthier way. My whole perspective on friendship changed when I got sober: I knew I had love in my life. I knew it was for keeps.

5 minutes in Salzburg

"Imagine you will completely lose your memory of 2010 in five minutes. Set an alarm for five minutes and capture the things you most want to remember about 2010."

Wow, what would I remember most about 2010. There's so much! The feeling of being sober for the first time; the smell of being smoke free for the first time in 15 years; the sensation of moving cross-country and starting a life over.

But I think the thing I wouldn't want to forget is Salzburg, Austria in the snow. It was a beautifully overcast morning in this medieval looking town. The huge fortress bore down on the landscape, surrounded by snow-capped mountains. I took my coffee in the sunroom and watched the snow start it's drifting to the ground. I watched as it covered the rooftops and chilled the air.

After breakfast I bundled up and headed outside. Into the cold, and out in the snow, the world was perfect. The little city buzzed with people on their way to work. The old Mirabell plaza was covered in white flakes, and the chimes of the church bells rang out into the silence. I stood in the gardens and felt the snow fall in large flakes onto my nose and eyelashes. It stuck in between the toes of the golden statue. It coated the trees and the fountains.

Riding the gondola up to the fortress, the snow kept falling. Unlike in certain states, the snow didn't deter people from going about their business, but like snow everywhere it made the world a silent haven for thought. The fortress itself was chilled and windy. The old windows letting in every draft, the thick stone floors chilling you through your boots.

But the view. The tiny city of Salzburg covered in snow. At once, I wanted to live there: to be a part of the snow all the time. I wanted that morning in the sunroom, that walk to the gardens, that chill in the middle of the alps. It was perfect.

Thanks, Mom

In the past year I've been all over the place. I've been across the world, and across the States. I've been jobless and job-full, and lonely or not. But the one thing I've come to appreciate the most is family. How pat, I know! But really. Without them, I wouldn't have been able to accomplish anything. Especially, my mom.

My mom and I have an interesting relationship. She's bipolar as well, but she's what you would really call nuts. I'm just a little off - I make stupid decisions and get a little kooky, but I've never done a quarter of the things she has.

When I was growing up, it was always "save mom." She would run away to foreign lands, only to end up homeless and then in the local mental hospital. Europe especially doesn't like when you use their systems and you're not part of the Union, so it was off to rescue her and bring her home. Sometimes, she would just wander the streets of the city, usually naked, and get picked up by the police. It was always my duty to rescue her.

But in the past 2 years, she's been stable. So I took a chance. "Mom, will you come out and watch the dog while I'm in Europe?" It was a huge leap of faith for me. Mom would have my car, my dog, my house. Would she burn it down? Would she try to kill herself again and have no one to rescue her? Would she kill my dog? All valid questions 5 years ago. But I let her do it anyway. And you know what? She was fantastic.

Now, she's dog-napped my dog again, and they are having the time of their lives. She's also got my car again, and hasn't crashed it yet (knock on wood). She's living a responsible life. Who would have thunk?

So appreciate I do. I appreciate her taking her meds and becoming the mom I always wanted: the one I don't have to care for, but who will care for me. Thanks mom.

Change is fantastic

2010 = Change.

It all began on my birthday, really, not in January. Of course, that was only 2 months later. It began with a trip. I decided that in honor of the 30th year of my birth, I would take the time to treat myself. I gathered my resources and flew off to Europe to spend 2 weeks gallivanting around Switzerland, Austria, and Paris. I rented an apartment in Paris for a week and got to know the city in a way only a local can do. I got lost, I found treats, and I made sure to do all the touristy things I'd never done before. I walked the hell out of Paris.

By May I'd decided that alcohol was no longer a good influence on my life, and it had to go. I took that final step, and instead of drunkenly complaining about alcohol, I soberly took a pledge to stop drinking, and to seek help. I found the local AA meetings, got a sponsor, and started to take the steps seriously. I worked through the first 4, and gained a little serenity.

And then September. Oh, September. I lost my job. Fired, laid off, it's all the same. Whatever it was, it left me with a sense of relief, and yet a sense of pain and confusion. What a blow to the ego to lose your source of income and identification! What's the first question people ask? What do you do. And now I have to say: nothing. I job hunt. But again, a relief.

September also brought a big cross-country move, precipitated by the fact that I couldn't pay my rent without a job. I became a boomerang kid, and moved back in with my dad. I joined another group of statistics. It hasn't been bad - in fact, he's easy to live with.

In November I decided to gather another vice and throw it off the Anne train. Smoking had to go. After 15 years of half a pack a day, it was time to quit. And so I let go. I smoked my last cigarette on the 21st of November, and I haven't looked back.

It's the middle of December, and I've had over 10 interviews for new jobs. Will 2010 bring about another move and a new job, or will that be 2011? Whatever happens, 2010 will still be the best year of my life.

Actionable steps

"Action: When it comes to aspirations, it’s not about ideas. It’s about making ideas happen. What’s your next step?"

2010 has been all about action: taking actions to make myself a better person. Quitting drinking, quitting smoking, unexpectedly getting the time to think about my next career move, reconnecting with old friends, traveling, moving cities, and all the while staying sane. It's been one hell of a year. Now, here I sit, unemployed, 30, and living in my dad's house. I'm part of the boomerang generation. But you know what? It's great! I've got a clean slate. I'm starting 2011 with everything in my past, and a blank slate for today.

So what's my next action?

I think the obvious thing is: get a job. Why? Well, I can't live here forever. I suppose I could, but I don't want to. I want to redesign my life, and I need a job to do that. I would like to find a career, though. I'm sick of being at jobs I hate. I'd like to find a real job, with real potential to be a long term gig.

Again, what's my next action?

I've networked my butt off lately, and applied for close to 200 jobs all across the coast. I'm looking all over, at businesses big and small, inside my current field and out. It seems a wide net, but I've been careful to only apply to those that sound like they would be interesting. I usually just apply to things that seem like I could do them, which is where I think I've been going wrong.

My next action: relax.

Does that seem counter-intuitive? I don't think it is. I've worked so hard to find work, that I think I need to let myself live it up a little. I've been using all my free time to job hunt, network, interview, or hone my skills. I think it's time to enjoy my unemployment a little. I was able to do that some while across the States, but it took the form of shopping, which we all know is a killer for an unemployed chicka. So how do I relax? I usually do it by travel, but again, the money isn't there.

So how do I relax? More apt, how do I relax without drugs, alcohol, or cigarettes? You tell me!

Stop talking about it and do it

Thanks to Guinevere over on Guinevere Gets Sober for turning me on to Reverb10. "Reverb 10 is an annual event and online initiative to reflect on your year and manifest what’s next." I am woefully behind, but I'm going to start with yesterday's prompt: what are 11 things my life doesn't need in 2011.

I can not believe it's almost 2011, by the way. I think in 2010 I've been able to get rid of a hell of a lot so far. It's been the year of shedding bad vices and pulling myself into a new way of life. So what else can I shed? What else can I get rid of?

1. Diet Coke. That's right, I can rid myself of one more addiction. Will I do it? Tune in....

2. Laziness. How in the hell is that possible! I have to figure out why I'm so lazy, first, which leads me to....

3. Procrastination.

4. Clothes. I have a Loft addiction, and my closet is bursting with price tags from new clothes. I don't have a lot of closet space, and I sure as hell don't have anywhere else to put things (no dresser space), so it's time to purge.

5. Lying. I've got to stop lying to my sponsor about going to meetings. Jesus, this is like a fourth step list now!

6. All of these things seem to be in the "addict behavior" category. My addictions, like diet Coke and shopping. My behaviors like lying, procrastinating, being lazy, and impulsive. Doing stuff under the radar and doing things I know I shouldn't, like sleeping with Michael and talking about getting married just for the health insurance. All these things are old behaviors I really need to get rid of.

All of these things I can rid myself of, but all in a year? I suppose that's where AA comes in. Actually DOING my fourth step instead of stopping mid-stream and ignoring it for a while. So maybe that's my end of year resolution: do my fourth step.