Hello there!

Welcome to my little corner of the ether. This is where you will find information about my books and musings on life and love in New York City. To stay in the loop about all things ADR...

JOIN THE LIST

red glasses I just bought new sunglasses. They are red. They are kind of ridiculous. I am kind of ridiculous.

I have this shallow side. It used to be a lot bigger. There were many years when I was all about lunches and shopping and working out and watching trashy television. I spent a lot of time doing these things and thinking about them (or not thinking about them). You could say I was coasting. But then life got more complicated, and you could say I began to grow up. My shallow, silly side? It started to shrink.

This afternoon, I remembered the Aidan before the miscarriage, before losing Dad, before the incredible and zapping three kid circus. I went to Sephora and sniffed some new perfumes. And then I indulged in a crazy pair of shades. To top it all off, I took a picture of myself on Broadway and shared it on Instagram. Total narcissism. Utter frivolity. Absolute fun.

I wrote the following words on Saturday morning. I wrote them for me because I'm not supposed to be here blogging. I've vowed to take some time this summer, to immerse myself more wholly in the physical world and I've done just that and it's been priceless. But I did write these words and now, for some reason I've yet to comprehend, I feel compelled to share them. Because they are about where I am, at this red-sunglassed moment in time, at this moment in my life. I feel compelled to share them because these words are true.

I'm realizing more and more, again and again, how much I respect complexity. Black and white is fine, but I believe in, and revere, the grays. Life is a beautiful and tricky gift, isn't it? I am interested, intellectually and personally and existentially, in the big, hard questions. I am interested in having real conversations about struggle and change and self and other and love and happiness. And so that's what I will do; I will ask these questions and have these conversations. Here and elsewhere. Anyway, here they are. My words. They are about me, but maybe they are, in some small but profound way, about you too?

{written on saturday 07/27/13}

I sat in my therapist's office at 6am. This is a good time for me, when my mind is muddled, all mine.

Friday was five years. Dad died five years ago, I said to her. Tears filled my eyes, but I didn't let them fall.

She nodded. How was that for you? she asked. I don't remember her exact words.

Okay, I think. I wrote about it. I sat in my garden and wrote about it. That felt good, and right. I had a normal day. That night my sister came over which was nice. I drank a lot of wine. A lot.

This was true. I drank. Glass after glass of rose. None of this was accidental. I lost myself in the wine. This was my intention. I got drunk. I floated to bed.

The next morning, I woke up very sad. I turned to my husband and cried and told him that I missed my father. That I think losing him really messed me up. He listened. I told him something else. Something important. I told him I think my life will be better, and I will be happier, without alcohol. He nodded. He's heard this before.

That day, at my therapist's office, she said something. Something really interesting. It sounds like you don't know really know how you feel.

She was right. Exactly right. I do things, sometimes, that blur my vision, things that keep me from feeling or knowing what I'm feeling.

(We all do this. We all have different ways of doing this.)

At the end of our session, I told her too. Oh, I said kind of casually. I'm going to stay away from drinking. It's been six months since I've been back at it and I know with every bit of my being that it's not good for me. Not now, at least.

Her face lit up with a smile. Good, she said. That will be good for you.

Sometimes, I said. I wish this were all obvious. That I knew just what I had to do, that it was clear-cut. But it isn't clear. It's hazy. It's confusing. And I'm the only one who can figure this out.

She nodded. I'm proud of you, she said. Or maybe I imagine she said this. Maybe it's what I needed to hear.

I said goodbye, that I'd see her in a few weeks. I left her office and went back out into the world. A good world. One I love.

*

This was two weeks ago. For two weeks, I have stayed away from wine. It has been easy and hard, depending on the moment. I've had flashbacks to my year, to that beginning, to the things I felt then.

I've debated whether to write about this topic again. Sure, I find it interesting, more than interesting. Sure, I believe that there is something profoundly universal here, in this story of mine. Sure, I believe that some of you want to read this, need to read this. But I have told this story before and isn't enough enough?

I don't know. My instinct is that this is just another chapter of the same story I began on January 16, 2012. My instinct is that it is important for me to write these words, and keep track. My instinct is that I am getting somewhere, somewhere important, somewhere worth exploring.

You know what? I woke up this morning at 4:30. I woke up to write my novel. I was tired at first, but a few sips of coffee and I was in my groove. I was awake and alert and perfectly clear. There was no heaviness in my head, no regret or remorse or shame. There were just thoughts, words, stories. I wrote and I wrote, chapters spilling from me. Chapters full of mind and body and heart and hope. Good, gripping, sweet, sexy stuff. Stuff I will not edit away.

I can say it now. I can see it now. This is what I need to do to have the life I want, to be the person I know I can be.

So. If we are out together and I order a Pellegrino, this is why. Not because I don't like to have fun, but because I do. This? This sharpness, this clarity, this joy, this really, truly being here in these good moments of this good life? This is fun. (For me.)

I won't pretend to understand this fully, whatever this is. Is it change? Is it surrender? Is it something far less grand? I don't know and it doesn't matter. What it is, all I need to know for now, is that it is good. Right.

So, stay tuned, you.

And stay tuned, me.

ADR logo

Still technically on Summer Sabbatical, but would love to know your thoughts on this, the goofy red glasses, the wine/no-wine thing, the waking up at the insane hour of 4:30am bit, any of it... Hope you are all having a fabulous summer.

Drinking & Judgment

Why I Share So Much