Keeping it Simple...

When Wiley was a little boy he had a great book that we loved to read together: Simple Pictures are Best. And I am not too sure where I am headed with this but I looked at Jeff this morning at breakfast and realized how incredibly happy I am with him. Perhaps happier than I have ever been in my life. At 60. I have my first boyfriend! This after two husbands, a third husband (hostage?) in waiting--a fiance of sorts--and a million boyfriends when I was younger and as my friend Ray would say when I was in between husbands. So fast forward a million years of trying to have more. A better car, a bigger house, more Rolex watches and Chanel shoes, Valentino dresses, you name it I tried it to feel better. And of course always there was the red wine. Better and better red wine. But it was always there until it wasnt. Until I got sober. And found out it had to be an inside job. That no matter how wealthy or handsome the husband, no matter how many beach houses we had decorated to the hilt, no matter what until I just stopped drinking, stopped trying so desperately to make everyone think I was happy and perfect, until I stopped pretending I was someone I wasnt I couldnt be happy. Truth is by the time I got myself into AA I didnt know who I was. I was just a shell of someone who had lived half of a life, always trying to look like I was perfect and never knowing who the hell I was or what I really wanted or felt. God my stomach turns over thinking about all the maintenance to try to look like something I wasnt and of course the huge problem was I didnt know who or what I was. I was a tv news reporter for Gods sake and I dont even watch television! I sort of liked it some of the time I will say. But I was always so tightly wound trying to be the best tv news reporter in the world. And I was a business reporter to boot and I can't do math! I can't really stand business. I liked the personalities so profiles of the people who were running the companies and features. I liked the stories about the companies that were good to employees and I am rambling here. The point is I was so disconnected from the person I am. From what my insides really want. I would do almost anything to look and sound good too. God did I diet. And I think I am not naturally over weight. Of course it turns out when I just stopped obsessing about how thin I was or wasnt and just ate right (and quit drinking) I am a fine weight for a 60 year old woman. So what am I getting at here?

By the time I got into AA I was so disconnected from me (and suicidal I might add) my world was tiny. And I no longer knew what made me happy. And god was I in a fog. The whole world was sort of blurry. I was living with a man I could barely stand and he used to scream at me.

So I got to start from scratch. I got to literally start all over again. On my 90th day of sobriety my ex-fiance screamed at me about something--just some meaningless something--and I finally got my bearings, and even though it would mean leaving his lovely house in Snedens Landing on the river and having nowhere to live and not even having any money--I had even had to file for bankruptcy and had no job anymore, CNN having laid me off ages before after Time Warner and AOL saw fit to merge and lay off tons and tons of people not just me. I got my bearings. I called my dog Shorty, packed up what few clothes I had left, my computer, my china and silver and put everything into my old silver station wagon and left. I didnt say anything mean. A wonderful older woman in AA had told me to just pack my things and go quietly. And that was exactly what I did.

So where to go? I called a friend who said her gardner had just told her about someone who wanted to rent out a carriage house. And I called the woman and asked if I could rent her loft as it turned out to be. She asked when and I said now, and she was a little bit taken aback and said fine. I also told her I had a dog, a wheaten terrier which she also said was ok since the grounds were all fenced and she had a dog for her son too. And that was it. Shorty and I moved into a wonderful loft that had a few pieces of furniture. We unloaded my clothes, computer, Shorty's food and bowls and bed along with my China and silver and cased out the mice. And then I started to find out who I was. I was about 3 weeks shy of 57 at that point. Terrified of living alone but on my own just the same. In a glorious loft in the woods with a wrap around terrace and even a tiny stove and refrigerator and two fire places! I bought five folding chairs and sprung for a couple of frying pans and a tea pot and had my tiny tv with a built in disc player so I could watch movies. Oh and I had my 30 year old Bang and Olufson ghetto blaster so I could listen to classical music round the clock. (I have to add right here that my son loaned me $10,000 for first and last months rent along with food till I could figure out how to earn a living once again.) And I start out all over again. The only things I knew I loved were classical music, walking in the woods with Shorty, watching movies, reading, writing and going to AA meetings. I also adored drinking coffee and started making all kinds of different teas. And if I really wanted a treat: I would eat one bulls eye which is a carmel with cream in the middle. That was one of the happiest times in my life as it turned out. And I started to think about what I liked to do and to keep it very simple. I didnt have to be the greatest anything and twist myself up into a pretzel trying to do it. All I had to do was just be and try to do the next write thing. There is an appropriate sign in AA for this. It just says Keep it simple.