A Wretched Day

My SIL invited my son to her son’s birthday party. For those of you who have been following this family drama, it’s good that she is still including my children in their cousin’s lives, right? If you are relatively new to my blog you may find it interesting to start at the beginning

Anyway, all week I’ve been nervous as hell about this birthday party. Going to it, having to stay there. On my own.  And unfortunately it was as bad, perhaps worse than I thought. I turned up with a smile but was completely blanked by my SIL and my brother. Not even a hello, no eye contact, nothing. I may as well have been invisible. My son jumped in to the fun with his cousin and their friends. I sat (alone) and watched. They walked passed me several times…nothing. And I realised there and then, I am dead to them. 

When it came time to leave, my SIL said goodbye to my son, but again, it was though I was invisible. Just, nothing. Not a goodbye, not a thanks for coming, not a thanks for the gift…

When I got home I was on the verge of tears. I was shaking, and eventually the anger came. “How dare they treat me like this?” “It’s disgusting”, “I’m a good person, no one deserves to be treated that way”. And finally, after getting it off my chest, I cried. Tears of sorrow. I realised today, I am dead to them. I don’t have two big brothers anymore. Only one.


Day 103: Reflection

 I’m no longer looking at the closed door. Occasionally I might glance at it, but I’m certainly no longer staring at it.

Day 103 without booze in my life and I am feeling like I have finally turned the corner. The depression, the thick, heavy black cloud, has dispersed into a sheer light grey mist. It lingers, reminding me I’m not totally my usual sunny self, but I’m sure with time I will get me back fully.
Today I was reflecting upon my drinking habits and remembered a time I was sent home from work one day. It was a long time ago now (I was about 20 years old), so the details are hazy. I recall I had been on a bender the night before until the small hours of the morning – that was my 20’s in summary, party, party, party! I prided myself on not calling in sick just because of hangovers so managed a shower and coffee and turned up to work. I’m so ashamed to say I may have still been slightly drunk. Upon arrival my boss looked at me in disgust and simply said “Go home.”  While the details of this memory are hazy, the strong feelings of shame, humiliation, regret, embarrassment are all still with me today. I will never allow myself to forget or become complacent.

Because, while I’m not dwelling on memories like this (and I’m sure more will bubble to the surface), I reckon it’s important to my present sober self to remember and acknowledge them. I do not want to go back to that person ever again.



After a busy few weeks of settling into the new job, making some mistakes there (which my perfectionist personality despises), and rushing the kids to their after school sports every day, I’m tired. This weekend it has caught up with me. 

This weekend I have also had two dinner parties to go to so both Friday and Saturday nights were late (for me). Yes, I needed to go to both but mostly I wanted to because I’m nurturing new friendships in an effort to fill the void left by ending a few toxic friendships. Also, being an introvert, I find socialising in groups very draining. And until writing this, I was concerned how tired I am…was it the beginning of a Lupus flare

But in writing this I now see the tiredness is fairly explainable (I know fatigue sits in the background permanently). I have just spent all morning in bed, and I mean ALL morning, dozing on and off whilst listening to The Bubble Hour podcasts. Hubby took the kids and went grocery shopping so we have food organised for the week ahead. 

Life has become busy with me working and the kids playing two sports each. As I approach my 40th birthday, I’ve finally learned I need to completely stop occasionally. Not use my spare time doing yoga or squeezing in a run. But stopping to rest and only rest. Self care and sobriety go hand in hand beautifully.


Rise above

 My SIL is still not speaking to me but I’m continuing to say hello when I see her. I’m occupying less of my head space worrying about her and the situation, and more of it making plans of things to look forward to. I’m enjoying my kids. I’m enjoying nurturing old and new friendships. I’m enjoying my husband. I’m creating my new normal, a life I love. I’m growing more into myself. I’m becoming content
Just as alcohol was toxic for me, she was too. I’m 92 days without booze and loving how I barely think about it anymore. I’m getting to that point with her too. She’s a narcisstic princess – why the hell would I want that in my life? Don’t get me wrong, it’s sad what has happened, but I’m not turning myself inside out over her anymore. I’m getting busy living.

 ^ Wise woman that Karen.


Shaky ground

I went for a run on Sunday (today is Tuesday) and oh my calf muscles! It was my first run in a few weeks and so of course, I felt good out there and ran the furthest I ever have. I knew I might be a wee bit sore so stretched lots afterwards but obviously not enough for my calves. 

So tonight I’ve taken magnesium and I did a “yoga with Adriene” workout – I’m doing the 30 days of yoga again since I loved it so much the first time round. It’s really impressive how much I have gained in my flexibility already!

When I went to visit my potential new workplace before I decided to accept the job there, the women mentioned that they have their 500 calorie days…well, I thought they were joking so of course laughed and proceeded to turn up with a full lunchbox consisting of a cheese sandwich and a variety of snacks. During my first day, I had to ignore my stomach positively crying at me for food all morning as the hours passed and no one ate. Finally at 1:00, my boss declared she just had to eat or something bad was going to happen. ‘Thank goodness’ I thought, ‘she is normal after all’ . I tried not to appear too eager as we sat down for lunch and I got stuck into my sandwich. Sensing her eyes on me, I looked up at her watching me with a slightly amused look on her face. She daintily ate her tiny pot of yoghurt, followed by a kiwi fruit. I barely registered though, because I was starving and went back to stuffing my face with dairy and carbs.

Two weeks into the job, I’ve realised they were serious about 500 calorie days. I cannot believe how little they eat!   It can’t be good for blood sugar levels surely? Still, I believe there’s a middle ground. I’m putting weight on again due to eating basically whatever I want but now I’m working I don’t have as much time for running. So today I took in my carrot and celery sticks, nuts and seeds and a banana. I felt satisfied but not bloated and sluggish – perfect. 

In other news, we had a short, sharp earthquake here in New Zealand last night. No damage. Just a reminder to us kiwis why we are dubbed the ‘shaky isles’. It was a good reminder that life is short and precious. It’s a waste to live it unhappily. I’m committed to doing everything I can to get myself out of this dark hole I’m in…and I believe it’s working. I’m still on shaky ground, but I’m finding my strength bit by bit, every day. I hope you are living your version of a happy life?