Sunday, July 8, 2012
Things have been one hell of a roller coaster ride. I just want to get off, but it will have to wait for a little while longer. If I'm being honest, I haven't really helped the situation, either. June 2 was my 26th birthday. It started off the night before having copious amounts of three-some sex and alcohol. June 4th was that month's full moon. I spent it getting stupid drunk and watching movies in the living room with my husband. I spent this year's summer solstice drinking until I passed out. July's full moon, which landed on the 3rd, was also spent shitty drunk after a long (but eventful day) with family in Austin at the pool. You see where this is going? Up until last night, I had spent the entire month of June and the first week of July ridiculously intoxicated. I haven't done a damn thing with myself except wallow in self-pity and push everyone away. While I never drank while my children were awake, as soon as I had put them all in bed for the night, I would immediately open the bottle and pour a glass, or two, or four. I am on a regime of medication. It's helping, but I was still drinking too much, that is, until last night. Last night, immediately after I had brought the laundry in from the line, it started to rain. My first reaction, "Phew! Perfect timing!" as I had spent the entire day doing laundry and would have been devastated if three large loads of laundry got soaked in the storm. Afterward, however, I felt excited, like I used to when I was a teen. I don't think I've been this happy for rain since. It poured. I turned off the air conditioner, opened the doors, and spent most of the evening walking back and forth through the kitchen to get to the back and front doors of our new apartment. (We've been living here since May 8th) I had locked our heavy storm doors and the kids and I peered through the metal screens to watch the rain fall. I couldn't contain my excitement for very long. Grabbing the two middle children (the youngest is only 5 months old, and the oldest is grounded) I went outside and took a deep breath. We stood on the porch and stuck out our arms pass the edge of the roof so we could feel the rain on our fingertips. The hem of my long skirt was beginning to get soaked through. I said to hell with it and the three of us ran into the rain. "This is a cleansing rain," I thought, as I grabbed my youngest daughter and brought her and her sister back under the safety of the porch roof. The three of us were soaked. I didn't care that I was wearing a white shirt with no bra and was probably giving the neighbors a lovely show. I didn't care that Rose (youngest daughter) wasn't wearing any pants, or that Iris ran out in her house shoes, or that my husband was complaining about how the apartment was now humid from the doors being open. I didn't care about anything. For one small moment, it was just me, and my daughters, enjoying the cold, exhilarating rain on our faces. I felt the same as I had when I was a teen, running down our street in the storms. I didn't drink last night and slept soundly. It's raining again today. Sheet after sheet of rain feels like it's washing away something that had been hovering for far too long. J starts his new well-paying job tomorrow. Things will be changing again. I think, this time, I may be ready. I don't know where we'll be when Lughnasadh rolls around. It will be a year since we left Iowa then. If we move closer to J's new job before then, it will be the 6th move for us in the past twelve-month. I want to get off this roller-coaster ride, but at least I know this time I won't throw up.