Hello, there are 2 of me.

Sometimes I wonder why I have to be so damn bipolar about everything in life. Litterally everything. Case in point. I borrowed a juicer from my best friend's brother, and tomorrow I am starting a 3 day all juice cleanse. I decided on "tomorrow" because 1. I am out of pretty much all produce (and that's kind of how a juice cleanse works...) and 2. I had already eaten a substantial non-juice breakfast when I decided juicing sounded like a good idea. The point of it is to "jolt my body" into feeling good and craving good fuel. Or that's what one of the websites stated. I actually believe it, and my body could use some good "jolting".


However, the bipolor stepped in quickly around lunch time. Sure, I'm not juicing yet, but I could begin preparing my body by picking clean food choices. Do I do this? Of course not. Realizing that I will probably be irritable and hungry for the upcoming 3 days, and also realizing that the loaf of homemade bread on top of the fridge is my best yet, I make a tuna sandwich. An entire tuna sandwich. Not those silly "thinwich" deals, or a "one slice of bread" sandwich. No. A WHOLE damn sandwich. And to make it worse, the only can of tuna was tuna in oil. Because I am two years old and apparently can't read the labels when I go grocery shopping. Oh yeah, and then I ate it in front of the TV while watcing the pilot of HawthoRNe. I'm over it and done berating myself for failing at healthy living. But it makes me wonder, why do I swing so violently back and forth? Kind of like when you pick the carton of nonfat frozen yogurt (especially when it's that triple chocolate brownie one), but then eat the entire carton with your husband while watching 24. My guilty conscience is working overtime...that may or may not have happened to me many times, once with full fat egg nog ice cream.


I'm going to run later. No really, I am. I had planned a circuit and eliptical for now. Bubbs even obliged by napping for once. I don't want to do it. And I don't want myself to tell myself to do it either. The idea of burpees and minutes of frog jumps and walking push ups makes me want to throw up. I need Bob Harper in my life. But see, I did it again. I plan on doing something healthy later, and decide I don't want to do something else that's healthy now.


There's a Hoosier song that says "The trick to life is not to get too attached to it". Maybe. I would argue at the moment that the trick to life is being intentional. Intentional about my body, my mind, my relationships.

Easy to say. I have so much to learn...

Caffeine FTW.

Nature abhors a vacumn.

Ain't that the truth?

Despite the fact I started getting sick yesterday, and felt like death early, early this morning, I still managed to consume two 18-oz mugs of coffee. I'm not sure why. I pride myself on the fact that I honestly cannot even feel the caffeine working, which means I can just decide to stop drinking coffee one day and feel no headaches or crankiness. So, again, I have no idea why I pounded the coffee like my life depended upon it. Or maybe I do. The warmth and "routine" are comforting (even if the fact that it happened at 10:15 is not routine), and the 3 T. of sugarfree vanilla coffeemate (I also drank a huge mug of Morrocan Mint Green Tea at 6:00) made me feel like I got some sort of "treat". It's 45 fucking calories, Sarah. Go with it. It's almost humorous though, watching myself grasp for something, anything, to obssess or overdue because I've stopped doing it in another area of my life. I have a warped sense of humor.


So just now, my dumb runner butt had a massive crisis. I thought I lost my wallet. As is typical for me, there was an old uncashed check, Christmas cash, and like a gazillion unused gift cards. Wow. I am stupid. The best part is, I totally remember removing my wallet from the Save Mart bag yesterday morning (always store your wallet in with your groceries. It's the smart thing to do, duh.) but that's where the memory ends. Too bad caffeine doesn't help with memory. It just gives you extra energy to freak out. And freak out I did. I gave Samuel L. Jackson a run for his money in the "how many swear words can i fit into a minute?" Mother... I found it. Um, right where my dumb runner butt left it. ;-)  Aww, now I want to listen to Cobra Starship.

Cobra Starship for the win! :)

Organix is for (cool) kids.

I don't like to spend money. Not deep down at my core. I like the idea of it more than I like it. Like Augie from Role Models when Paul Rudd asks if he likes Coca Cola.

"I like the idea of it more than I actually like it."

I will go into Rite Aid with the intention of buying Olay or Aveeno body wash (because I know it's probably worth the extra couple bucks), and then, I walk out with Suave or St. Ives. There's always a lot of agony involved. Thanks, Mom, I apparently inherited your frugality in at least beauty products. So much for cleanliness being next to godliness... Something happens though when I give up something huge. Whether it's wine, hard alcohol, carbohydrates, or sleep. I. Want. To. Spend. Money. Granted, it's on stuff I need and was planning on buying anyways. Scott's lucky I'm not his ex-wife the "I'm entitled to a $100 hair cut and a shopping spree at Macy's" girl. The last time I had one of these "moments" was last week. In Rite Aid, of course, because I have that little thingy that hangs from your key chain that means you are married to them for all your pharmacy/toiletry needs are one of the cool kids. I needed conditioner. The Dove stuff I had been rationing out for what felt like centuries was finally forcing me to open it up and scrape the insides with my finger. (One of my favorite things to do with an almost empty nut butter jar. NOT so much a favorite when I'm trying to take a quick shower. You take quick showers when you are a mom. I think it's in a contract somewhere.) The little brother recently came home with the Renewing Morrocan Argan Oil Organix shampoo, and I had been itching to try them. I am in love with the brand without even ever receiving a free sample. I fall in love easily with products that have about 20 scents- and claim to be "nourishing", "revitalizing", "renewing". Smelling things is my favorite. Don't judge me. That's how you avoid drinking bad milk... He nonchalantly mentioned it was $10. Are you kidding? And that's just half the equation. At that point do you pinterest how to make conditioner that costs zero bucks? My hair is red at the moment, and  I was planning on buying the John Frieda Radiant Red conditioner. They were out. Convenient much? I've been buying Garnier Fructis and Herbal Essence for awhile and let's be real. They don't fulfill the needs of colored hair. And I've been noticing the red needs more hydration then say, when I do black. To my delight, I noticed that some of the scents of Organix were (only? It seems so wrong to say that.) $6.99. That's a sale right? If the bro spent $10, I mean c'mon, that's $3 off. Oh the lengths I will go to make myself believe I am right. Well, it took about ten minutes to choose which one I wanted. Originally I read that the Teatree Mint one is great for dyed hair, but the one bottle was dirty. I have standards. So, it was a sniff test between Coconut Milk, Vanilla Silk, and Acai Berry Avocado. Coconut Milk won out.

I used it the first time this morning. Oh my goodness. So freaking worth the $7. Unfortunately, it's going to take another five years and a billion dollars to try ALL of them. ;-)

LSD makes me eat oatmeal.

No, I am not dabbling. Don't worry.

Most people have their curiosity drug and their drug they should never try. I've always been slightly obsessed with Heroin. I know, I know. Needles are badass. Heroin is badass. I'm sure watching Gia didn't help. I want to be Angelina Jolie when I grow up. The end.

I should never drop acid. Mostly because I have a vivid imagination, am prone to terrible nightmares, and have a very dark place I can wind up even under the influence of champagne. I accidentally smoked laced weed once. I was renting a room in a condo with a parole officer of all people. He thought I was an angel and didn't do drugs (well, minus tequila). That night I locked myself in my room and watched my laundry basket hover in the air while having a conversation with my most recent ex-boyfriend. The morning couldn't come fast enough. It was frightening.

These days, running is my drug of choice and necessity. Today was Long Slow Distance. At the moment, this is my favorite run because I haven't exactly been running consistantly the last 2 months. Making myself run for 70 minutes or whatever is crazy mental. It's not that I get tired physically. It's more like my brain suddenly, out of nowhere, goes, "Huh. We've been doing this for awhile. Let's stop." That's when I have to repsond, "No can do, sweetheart. You're paying for all your stupid. This will be fun again." Long runs will also be two hours again. Just not right now. Baby steps. It was freezing this morning, but beautiful. I was dressed in about 3 layers, which made me look like a turquoise fleece polar bear. Not my favorite look, but that's the beauty of a 5:15 am run. NOBODY FREAKING CARES BECAUSE EVERYONE IS ASLEEP. :)

Running doesn't make me super hungry. It just makes me crave different breakfast than I normally eat. A typical day involves an ommlette that ends up resembling a salad wrapped in yellow, covered in chopped avocado and like 2 cups of Valentina hot sauce. Today, I had oatmeal with 2/3 cup frozen blueberries mixed in, chopped raw almonds and 1/2 cup nonfat Greek yogurt with splenda and vanilla extract mixed in. So good. It probably helps I used like 1/3 cup almonds. Whatever. I am capable of eating half a jar of chunky peanut butter in one sitting so 1/3 cup almonds is an improvement on portion control.

I feel so much better today. It's only day 2, but I don't feel so toxic and disgusting. My head is clearer too. What the hell am I going to feel like in a month? I honestly don't even remember what a month sober feels like. I don't remember what a week sober feels like...but I'm looking forward to finding out. I'm not being unrealistic, thinking this will be cake (not rum cake, obviously). It'll be difficult at times, but I do know this. I don't crave alcohol for alcohol, the taste etc. I crave a solution to stress, boredom, and lonliness. I can work with that. I took a walk last night before dinner and it was actually refreshing. I don't normally "walk". I wasn't working super hard, but I got blood flowing and the endorphins made me feel terrific. Sounds like a killer solution for cravings. :)   #nightwalknotnightcap

"Fictions and F*cking Addictions"

She said, "I know it's easy to have me.

But I have seen some things that I cannot even tell to my family pictures,

And I'm full of fictions and fucking addictions."

"And I miss my mother."

(Red, Okkervil River)

Sorting out oneself is not fun. It's exhausting and bewildering trying to figure out what's true and what's fiction. And the fictions go both ways. I tell myself that I'm a fucking fatass, which is a feeling not a fact. It's also an exaggeration. I also tell myself that going 2 days without drinking proves that I can definitely handle alcohol and it will suddenly cease ruining my life. Did I mention I am our of my fucking mind delusional? Yes, I lie to myself. No, I'm not proud of it. I am actually looking forward to the freedom of airing my crap on here. I spent a year feeling utterly ashamed of myself, but never putting it out there so the shame could turn into success and pride in "fixing" things. I'm done hiding. So done. I'm ready to embrace the truth - about myself, my life, my marriage, my parenting failures.

Speaking of the addiction part of fiction. I have a really hard time with the phrase: "I am an alcoholic." By definition, I am. The amount of alcohol I can consume in one sitting, for a 5'4" woman, is appaling at best. Frightening is a better description. Add to that, I think I was sober twice a week the entirety of 2012. Yep. Awful. This is where I want to start to badmouthing and self hatred.

"You are a LOUSY mom. What kind of mom drinks that much?!"

"No wonder you gained weight. And haven't lost it...."

"You're pathetic and incapable of changing."

That is the fiction speaking. Here are the facts:

Yes, I have allowed myself to be weak. But I have also had moments of strength, which proves I am capable of changing.

Yes, alcohol has calories and yes, I have definitely overindulged while under the influence. Do I hate my thighs? Yes. Can I change this? Yes.

I'm not a lousy mom. I am a tired, sometimes stressed out mom, who needs to find other coping mechanisms.

Those are the facts. The facts don't have to involve Sarah bashing. Though. it's hard sometimes to resist doing things you're excellent at, and I am GOOD at hating myself.

So... what exactly is the game plan? For starters, STAY SOBER. I put a date on it as my Babe's birthday (3.16), but I know deep down this a problem and needs a permanent solution. Do I really want to reintroduce the problem in 10 weeks? Not so much. I feel like crap at the moment and would really like to remember how good it feels to not have a poluted body.

I'm excited. And scared.

If you're tired of starting over, stop giving up.

No more quitting.