A New Recovery

It’s been a hot minute since I posted as life- and my priorities as a result- have shifted yet again. The more we seek and search, the more we learn and I have been in a constant state of self wonder. While that’s a good thing, it also leads to more realizations about how I came to be the person I am today as a result of the trauma and violence I suffered as a child. I denied it all just to survive that period in my life and now that my yogic path has brought me here, to a place of self-love and equanimity, I clearly see how my behaviors in the past constantly worked to reinforce all those survival methods- and not in a good way.

The past several months, I decided to go even more internal and took to writing in a journal as opposed to this blog as I wanted to speak my whole truth and nothing but. Here, on the blog, there’s an audience and while I aim to write as truthfully and as authentically as possible 99.99999% of the time, my deepest thoughts are not for publishing. Here, I craft each post with attention to paragraph length and supporting images and grammar and all that fun stuff but there, in my journal, I write to myself, for myself, and let all structure go- it’s incredibly therapeutic (albeit unreadable as my handwriting is atrocious but I knew what I was relaying in the moment and that’s what counts, right?! Right!).

I started this blog with the intention to chronicle my journey giving up alcohol but that period in my life was actually just a blip; the way I used alcohol worked to support the survival/ self loathing/ external validation seeking habits I had formed as a result of being abused as a child. Freaking epiphany: I am a people pleaser to a (HUGE) fault. I never learned how to find validation within, I only felt validated when I did things to make other people happy no matter how it negatively effected me. For 48 years. Wow. The moment that hit me was the moment I decided the people pleasing stops now- my needs and my desires alone are paramount. Finally.

While alcohol is part of my story, it’s definitely not the whole story. The people and paths I have chosen along the way and these ingrained habits revolve solely around the lasting effects as an adult survivor of child abuse. This, dear readers, is the truest part of me, the thing that has a clutch on my soul and psyche, the thing I have tried so hard to deny, the thing that has brought on more stress and anxiety and grief and depression than I have ever admitted to any single person I have ever met. This is the time to face it in order to change it, and this is the story I will continue to tell…

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Today’s Reason: Comfort

Current view.

Three weeks into recovery from my second ACDF surgery and I am adapting to bed rest much better this time around. As you can see, I’ve created a nice little nest complete with fluffy blankets, fragrant candle, and fuzzy puppy. It feels just as good as it looks and I am incredibly grateful for these simple luxuries as they have allowed me to follow post-op instructions perfectly: to remain as comfortable as possible.

Not sure where I heard the phrase, “Comfort starts at home.” And nothing is truer- covid lockdown certainly taught us that! Already well trained in staying put plus having gone through this same ACDF recovery two years ago, I am a pro at corralling creature comforts (that also happen include an actual creature named Timber- isn’t he the cutest?!).

Yet comfort goes well beyond the things we can see and touch. Comfort is also found in thoughts, emotions, and the people we surround ourselves with. If we can agree that comfort starts at home, then we can further agree that the concept of “home” stems way beyond four walls and a door- home is also where our body meets our brain. Home is the soul, the place where your true spirit lives.

All that a body and mind seek is comfort: free from pain, healthy, strong, hydrated, well-rested, and loved. Ease of self, through and through is much easier said than done. It is a privilege to attain true comfort and a lot of people do not live an existence that allows for that, including me. Being comfortable in the uncomfortable, rather, seems to be life’s ultimate goal.

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Former Drinking Buddies

A few months ago, I spent time with some former drinking buddies and walked away feeling confused and disappointed yet strangely liberated. When I gave up alcohol, these friendships shifted immediately. Removing the through line of the thing that brought us together in the first place left behind a vast silence- while they never discouraged me from quitting drinking, they haven’t encouraged me either. They just went silent.

It took me a while to share Sober Laura with these friends. There were a couple I felt particularly nervous to reveal Sober Laura to as I knew they would make my choice about them- and I was right. Upon telling one former drinking buddy, she said, “Yeah, I always knew you had a problem. Not me though. I’ve never had a problem with alcohol.”

This person I partied and drank with for over 20 years; yet, I am the one with the “problem”. Neat!

The conversation turned into an argument. I pointed out- very loudly- that there had not been one get together in the past two decades of knowing each other where alcohol was not the main focus. Further, to label me as someone with a “problem” with no blame placed on the addictive substance itself is downright insulting. In the end, we hugged it out, relayed hollow let’s-get-together-again-soon platitudes, and I left knowing full well that the friendship was over.

I felt true sadness on one hand but, on the other, complete relief.

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One Year Alcohol Free

Last week, I celebrated 365 days since I quit drinking- one entire year of being alcohol free! Yay me! I also started my new job that same day of my first “soberthday” so very distracted with new yoga job, I made little fanfare the actual day of. Got a cake. Lit a candle. Applauded myself. Ate said cake. It was glorious.

It is important to note I did not eat the entire cake, I cut it into 4 pieces and delivered a slice to each family member. When I told them what the cake was for they responded, “Aw, that’s awesome! Good job!” and went right back to doing what their previously cake-less selves were doing. And all that was perfectly okay with me.

This one year of not drinking, in the grand scheme of things, is truly no big deal to anyone but me and that’s just the way I like it. I am happy that this date was just that, a date, and only important insofar that I crossed a calendar finish line that means… nothing. I did it and I will keep on doing it and that one year mark was a typical day-in-the-life, only made special with a slice of chocolate cake and not some random date on the calendar.

Just as it should be. My sobriety is now the norm and it feels fantastic.

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Little by Little

“Little by little,” an acorn said,
As it slowly sank in its mossy bed,
“I am improving every day,
Hidden deep in the earth away.”

Little by little, each day it grew;
Little by little, it sipped the dew;
Downward it sent out a thread-like root;
Up in the air sprung a tiny shoot.

Day after day, and year after year,
Little by little the leaves appear;
And the slender branches spread far and wide,
Till the mighty oak is the forest’s pride.

“Little by little,” said a thoughtful child,
“Moment by moment, I’ll well employ,
And still this rule in my mind shall dwell:
Whatever I do, I will do it well.
“Little by little, I’ll learn to know
The treasured wisdom of long ago;
And one of these days, perhaps, we’ll see
That the world will be the better for me”.

-Author Unknown

Funemployment: The End (and The Beginning)

Me with my Yoga Teacher Training fam; our guru, leader and goddess SC front and center.

I am elated to state: I FINALLY GOT A JOB!!! Not in the industry I spent the past 30 years in, but in the industry I began last April when I started the Yoga Teacher Training certification path. I am now the proud Studio Manager at a bustling, pedigreed, super awesome yoga studio here in Oakland AND I accepted a role teaching gentle yoga to seniors! Everything is coming up yoga!

Can you believe it?! I am so happy I could cry. Actually, I have cried a few times, this is such an incredible turn of events I cannot stop smiling, even through these joyful tears!

The past 6 months I have gone on umpteen interviews for food/beverage/hospitality senior management roles and along the way, was offered a handful of jobs- declined 5, accepted 3- but then something always happened right after I said yes to a role, never in my favor. Last month, I was offered a Catering Manager position at a location I absolutely loved, I accepted enthusiastically, my new boss said, “Welcome to the team!” and then I heard nothing back. Nothing. It’s been 5 weeks and there has still been zero return to my phone calls, zero response to my follow-up emails. I could relay more of my horror hiring stories but I won’t waste our time, on to better things…

And guess what? Now I am done with that industry! Shove it, Hospitality! I gave you three decades of dedication, had some fun along the way, produced so many amazing events, ate lots of incredible food, met some great people, and learned an unbelievable amount. I gave hours upon hours, worked myself to the bone, put up with a lot of challenging people and situations, and was treated horribly all to earn a pay check.

But now I am leading with my heart and it feels oh so good to finally be rewarded.

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I Finally Like Christmas

See?! Look at all these seasons’ greetings! I’m learning!

If you know me, you know I have always proudly said, “I hate Christmas.” Because of my horrible childhood, I had no positive memories to associate with the holidays so of course, I grew to dislike this time of year with a vehement passion. Finally, things are different- for the first Christmas in nearly 30 years, I am not drinking and that has changed everything.

I could recount all the reasons why I think thought (still getting used to this!) Christmas is stupid because this is my blog and I can write whatever the heck I want but in the spirit of Christmas and in the spirit of the title of this post, I won’t. I’ll just skim the holly boughed surface a bit…

Growing up Catholic, Christmas was more like a subpoena than an event to look forward to. Lots of baking and lots of church-going in crispy velvet outfits lined with musty smelling faux fur and white lace trimmed socks neatly folded at the ankle. As a child, I never got any gifts I actually wanted and had no idea why Santa only put underwear and socks under the tree when I had specifically asked for a Cabbage Patch Kid, Spirograph, and Peaches n’ Cream Barbie. Like, WTH Santa?!

Somewhere along the way of elementary school I began to put the clues together to understand why this “Santa” “person” was consistently not doing his job. No wonder all my presents sucked.

Yours truly, l980-ish, horrible Christmas outfit I was forced to wear complete with perm, MUFF, and matching headpiece. Ugh.
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Dear Laura: I’m Sorry

Dear Laura:
I owe you more apologies and even more applause for the things we’ve gone through over the bumpy course of these 48 years. We’ve done a lot and we’ve seen a lot and I have held you back at nearly every turn. Often I’ve ignored the truth and lied to you more times than I care to admit and for this, I confess my fault in it all.

I am sorry for allowing toxic relationships to abuse you and for destructive environments to punish you. You were always right from the start- every time you said things were too stressful and too dramatic and too threatening I didn’t listen, I only told you to take it all with a smile and go back for more the next day. When you recognized these harmful situations, I was wrong in telling you to accept things for what they are. You always knew better.

I am sorry for the mistreatment you suffered at the hands of your parents. You had nothing to do with their inability to love and show kindness, it was not your fault that they physically and mentally abused you, at least we can both agree about that. But all those times I said you deserved it, again I was wrong. You never deserved abuse. I am regretful for ever putting that on you. Look at how much you’ve accomplished despite that lack of unconditional parental love. I am sorry that continues to haunt you and I promise to remind you of how much you shine, how much love and comfort you provide for your own family even though you were never taught how- you always had it in you.

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The Last Drink

December 18, 2021: hubby’s birthday party. I’m holding 2 Santa shots here, each a different type of bourbon. I do not drink bourbon but I drank both of these that night… along with much, much more…

Given the festivity pictured, you would think that that was my last drink. It was not. It was actually the fourth to last but the events that occurred the night of 12/18/21 certainly propelled my decision to quit.

I love a good theme and this Christmas explosion of a bar was a perfect backdrop to don our merriest apparel in celebration of hubby’s birthday. Once the drinking buddies arrived, our drunken antics began. The menu included an array of Xmas-crafted cocktails at $15 a pop. Not kidding. $15. Each. And when you’ve got an open tab plus “friends” who take advantage of said open tab plus you’re at this freaking place for 8 hours straight, that tab adds up. And add up this night it certainly did- in more ways than one…

Of course, my goal was to try them all!
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Writing on Writing

I’ve always loved writing. I started a daily practice of journaling in junior high (around 12 years old) and kept that up all the way through college. In high school, English was my favorite subject and I learned the basics from Mr. Mehle, story analysis and structure with Mrs. Holmes, and then in my senior year I was lucky to be placed with Ms. Casey- one of The Best teachers I have ever had. As it was an Advanced Placement course, we had piles of reading to complete plus essay after essay after essay. Ms. Casey gave us so much work, I recall many all nighters, reading and writing tirelessly just to attain a “5/5” score. Which I only got once- countless 4+++++ grades yet only one victorious 5 for an essay on William Faulkner’s “The Sound and the Fury”. (Can’t believe I actually remember that after 30 years! That’s just how important getting that 5 was!)

Upon transferring to USC my junior year of college, I was accepted to the School of Cinema-Television Critical Studies program which was my first true academic challenge- as one of the top film schools in the country the workload was immense. I had to make movies as well as watch hundreds of films and TV shows, go to lectures, read and write nearly constantly, all the while working full time at a fine dining restaurant. I wouldn’t have changed that experience for the world- studying critical writing was an honor, I loved the output, my bylines were my pride.

After college, I landed in Public Relations mainly because I can write the heck out of a press release be it semiconductors, robotics, artificial intelligence or antivirus software- even when I know nothing about the topic, I easily learned about it and made it sound oh so good on paper. Once I left the tech PR industry for hospitality, where writing skills are not expected, cover letters and polishing my resume were my sole writing outlet for about 5 years until Running4theReason was born in 2010.

Each and every medal has a story!
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