Cutting Through Flesh

First time after many, many years a strange thought sneaked into my mind.

I want to cut myself.

I never did it before, though I considered it, just like all of the others lost cases of children from, in one way or another, problematic families. Or maybe I should use the expression I preffer these days - unhappy families. There's no need for a problem to feel the lack of happiness. Especially for a small child, confused teenager or young adult. That's how far I got at least, I hope one day I won't wish for magic which would create a bit of  happiness that I can't make myself.

I still want to do it.

I think I would feel good. I think physical pain would be so natural and normal to fight with. I'm not suicidal, you don't need to worry about that, although a chance of somebody somewhere worrying about me feels comforting in a way. Thank you.

I want to see my blood dripping from a simple cut.

Simple, because it's so easy to understand the pain that follows when skin is hurt. It is so easy to see life in running blood. It is so easy to accept the pain caused by a sharp knife. It has to hurt and it has to stop hurting. So very different from people who hurt in most disgusting ways one could hurt another. How can they still hurt me so much after all I've gone through, merely with being who they are?!

I love physical pain. It makes me feel normal and alive.

But cutting through my flesh would be easy, too easy, like getting drunk when you can't face a problem or simply ignore the problem as such. Instead I'm gonna hurt some more. I can take some more. For now.

But I still want to do it.

How to: Change in 6 Steps

1. It always goes worse before it can get better, that's the challenge of being strong enough to make a change.
2. You should never blame youself for not managing your life best when you're putting someone else's life and problems first.
3. When you've done your best for others it's the last moment to put yourself back on the first place.
4. Don't hesitate to make sure everyone knows it's your turn now and that it's your right to do so.
5. As Nike says: Just do it! Start from the scratch, one step at a time and be proud of what you've done, something is still far better than nothing!

6a. Anytime you feel like something's not going right,
return to no. 1 and move on from there.
6b. Shhh... do you hear it? It can be flying, running, maybe even swimming or it might walk really slowly ... Yes, that's the sound of a coming change! ;)

If you can worry about others and care about helping them, then you're not a bad person and definitely not selfish. Therefore, do worry and care about yourself too when needed, because if others are worth your help, time, and energy, then so are you.

Attitude Toward Alcohol

My attitude toward alcohol is far from 'normal', obviously. I am proud to say I was NEVER drunk enough to forget what happened on that day, I NEVER passed out or threw up. I had a hangover couple of times and that's all. But I like to have a glass of wine at dinner sometimes or go out for a beer, especially if I'm watching some sports game with friends. If I'm nervous I sometimes have a sip of something strongest I can get at that moment. Also I like to do that coming back home on a freeeeeezing winter night.

Until last year I never thought about this matter, I never thought about consequences of drinking whatever was in my glass, if I felt like it, I drank it. Today I'm a complete mess. Every single time I drink I ask myself why am I drinking.

I noticed I'm drinking just for mom to have some company at it - drinking with the only company of an alcoholic husband would probably make her feel ... I don't know, I guess really bad in some way or another. I also noticed that I have physical problems with drinking alcohol, like headaches or stomach ache even after drinking less than half scoop. Before I sometimes had a sudden desire of having a beer, let say when eating pizza, like the other night. I say before because that other night was months or even more than a year I last felt that desire.

I rarely feel like having a drink. I solely do it for someone or something (I still think it's good when you need to warm yourself fast or when you feel like you're going to catch a cold). And I never drink anything alcoholic without thinking twice about it. That, for me, is abnormal attitude towards alcohol.

If there's anyone reading this and got a bit of a bad feeling - and it wasn't about feeling bad for me - find some help! Probably I sound mostly negative but I did search for help myself and I know I'm getting better. I know I found good help and I know I could never do it alone.

There's absolutely no need for going through this alone - there is always someone who can help you, even if just by hearing what you fear to say.

Even just by reading what I couldn't say to you in person - you help me. THANK YOU!

Living with an alcoholic and still believing

There's days when I don't even think about it and there's days when I can't think of anything else. Once you accept that you're living with an alcoholic it's impossible to ignore it. Once you really accept it, which to me means knowing and understanding what it means to be an alcoholic, what alcoholism is. I accepted it only in the moment when I accepted the answers to most important questions that I had about it.

It's a disease - physical and mental. It's noone's fault - it's a disease as any other. There is a cure - the only way to get well is through abstinence.

Some of you agree, some will get there, some never will. To me believing in this was like finding faith - whenever I have doubts, my answer lies in those beliefs and it helps me move on. Whenever I'm feeling great it helps me not to feel guilty about it anymore. And it never ever lets me forget about it, no matter what happens, how things sometimes change or seem to improve, I know it's there. As long as we all don't accept it and live by these couple facts, or what I call beliefs, there will be an alcoholic in our family. We'll be an alcoholic family and we'll all be addicted to alcohol. My mom and sister would strongly disagree here and now in case I'd be talking to them about it.

But if you can't drink a glass of good, quality wine, beer or chocolate liqueur, whatever suits your taste more, without feeling bad or guilty about it, looking over your shoulder if someone is looking at you, or hating drinking it just because ...

That's not a behaviour of someone who is not personally affected by alcohol(ism). If I lived in a family where no relative would ever had problem with drinking, I'm sure I'd never think about having problems with drinking myself at all. If you ever thought of having some - no, you're not an alcoholic, but you might have someone close to you who got you worried in the first place and you should seek help.

Maybe just to be sure about yourself, if you're attitude toward drinking is 'normal' or not, possibly to help yourself never to get that far as to have a problem with drinking, and ultimately to help someone who has that problem. Not likely by saying it to that person or trying to persuade him/her into finding some help but by setting up a model of non-addiction to alcohol. Maybe one day it'll be one of the triggers that will make someone search for help.

In the end because you will never be able to ignore it again. If you worry about it, look up information about it, talk about it ... in this case that's not enough. You'll still be able to ignore alcoholism, especially in your own family, you will always try to find a good excuse first. And I'm sure you agree with me on this one: IGNORANCE IS THE WRONG ANSWER.

Seeking for help means not ignoring the problem. Not being able to ignore the problem further on will bring even more sorrow, regret, hate ... but when you'll be dealing with it, it will also bring the FREEDOM of knowing you're trying and the freedom of accepting the truth.

(If at any point this post was too religious, that was not my intention, this blog has nothing to do with any religion as such. It's only about believing there is a solution.)

Sometimes You Can't Make It On Your Own

Tough, you think you've got the stuff

You're telling me and anyone

You're hard enough

You don't have to put up a fight

You don't have to always be right

Another day of computer work went by, quite successfull for that. For be what best keeps me close to the keyboard and the screen is music. This U2 song got in line today and made me shut everything else out of my mind. I always wanted to be tough, I thought I had to be. And I always need to be right.

Let me take some of the punches

For you tonight

Listen to me now

I need to let you know

You don't have to go it alone

In a year of time people crossed my path and took some punches for me, for what I'll always be grateful to them. Yet from only a few problems an easy path might follow, I still took most of the punches myself. I know there's plenty more coming. A year is not enough time in fighting with yourself, fighting with everyone, fighting with alcoholism. 

And it's you when I look in the mirror

And it's you when I don't pick up the phone

Sometimes you can't make it on your own

We fight all the time

You and I...that's alright

We're the same soul

I don't need...I don't need to hear you say

That if we weren't so alike

You'd like me a whole lot more

My lesson, in sharing this song, is that I don't need to take punches that were meant for others. They have to fight their battles themselves. I'd be most pleased to share my knowledge about it but in the end they'll have to learn how to fight and look themselves in the mirror. That's where I'll be waiting. And all of the other fighters who are with me in this. We fight alcoholism together, each in her/his own way.

Listen to me now

I need to let you know

You don't have to go it alone

Can - you - hear - me - when - I -

Sing, you're the reason I sing

(THANK (to) U2)

Letter I

I understand you're busy and so should be I actually. I'm no special than everyone else, I'm so close to finally finishing school for good (at least if I'll want to have more of it, it'll be because I'll want that), the 'real' life I've been longing to live is just around the corner and here I am stuck in a moment. I'm far from worst case scenario, this moment has only been going on for two months now and I'm far from not doing nothing in the meanwhile, you know me. It's also true that I've had a year now that one could consider as that moment but only I know it wasn't. Those ten months before these last two were something I needed to do for myself and these last two are what I want to do for myself. That puts me right where I want to be.

Except that for last couple of days I got something I didn't want - a bad cold from my dearest sister who's got enough guts to help ill kids get better. And I felt lack of something I wanted - inspiration for the work that should keep me really busy these days and weeks.

That's why I'm not busy these days at all and what could take only couple weeks is taking couple months from me, my bad entirely. Well, if you want to do something great it's not supposed to be easy, right?

Ironically, I'm feeling strong desire to write at the same time as I lack inspiration for writing what I should be working on. Also simultaneously I feel like listening to or reading a good story from someone. No matter how much I write about myself, so much more than you ever could probably, in the end I can really feed only on what I get from others. So I've been thinking a lot trying to find a good question to ask you. By a lot I actually mean a lot because I don't think of myself as a good question-maker. I found a question that I have great interest in and if for you it'll be an answer you'll want to write down for me, I'll meet my goals in this question-making.

What were you mom and dad like?

It's one of those questions to which every answer is the right answer but it might be unexpected for most people, that's why the long intro. Plus I managed to write something and feel like I've just had a free therapy, which makes this my next blog post. I killed two birds with one stone and this day turns out to be quite fine. I'll go and do some hard physical work now and let you the brain work. My sewing machine awaits!

Hush little baby don't say a word. Mama's gonna buy you a mocking bird.

I made peace with this world. With the world for what it is as such: wholeness of everything. Crazy chatty summer heat and empty village streets in cold winter. For as much as the sun up there in the skies, sometimes hidden behind the clouds, I too am the same, no matter how many clouds gather around me, I shine on.

I sat on the balcony today, with my spoiled cat in my lap, closed my eyes and  connected mine with sun's existence. Closed my eyes and felt his warmth. A loud group of some noisy kind of birds had a monthly meeting nearby and discussed the matters enthusiastically. Then, in one moment they all shut up and I heard the silence. Only then, after all that chatter, I could fully sensed the silence that matched my own calming thoughts. It was so calming.

Then next topic of monthly meeting was opened and the neighborhood woodpecker woke up.

Outsider II

I guess it's about time that I change the title of this blog. Afterall the greatest lesson of this years was how I can't change others, their lives and thinking, and how I can't blame myself for decisions they make.

The only thing that in fact is in my power is to change myself or better said to help myself grow, learn and improve. To get myself straight while standing on the socially almost acceptable level of craziness.

Outsider I

Brace yourself - here come's another 'about me' blog. Surprised?

Brace yourself once more - remember me talking about this being the time to leave home and live on my own for real? It didn't really work out the way I planned. I kind of ended up moving back home, 'temporarily' of course, only until I finish school. Which should be in couple months ... What will be ...

In a short period of one month back with my family I've had just about enough and the search of an escape got into my dreams, where I explore and enjoy the world the way I can't at home. I now understand my older friends better and that look in their eyes when they were finishing college. Looking at what tomorrow might bring one can hardly be optimistic, especially if your real, adult life is starting not just with your personal crisis of leaving mom's embrace but also with general world crisis.

You feel so smart, a real grown-up, after all you're getting closer to thirties than you are to twenties. You've seen so much, met all these people and experienced just about everything there is fun to try. Life's great!

Then crash boom bang, back to reality hits you right in the face. Especially if you in this uncomfortable phase between school and first job moving back home. After all those years, you realize not much has changed, you're still the same whiny kid arguing with your parents about a new toy you want to have. I know a car or new bed could hardly be called toys but when you need your parents to finance it, they are just that.

I'm well prepared, I dare say. I don't think I'll need or want a new toy anytime soon and I think I can get through this jobless-thesis-writing period without them supporting me with absolutely everything. After years and years of school, half of it almost fully taking care of myself, this is my first time to be off school, no job, no other regular obligations and I feel almost the worst I ever have. From statistical point of view, most kids leave their home close or after they hit 30 in this country. Damn, is there a chance I might turn out the same if I don't act soon?!

It is time for us to stop molesting our parents about how we know better, about how they should live and be,  how our new modern ways are better than the ones they know. They might never use a computer if they want so and that should be fine for both of the sides. We'll always be their children, we'll always be part of their lives, share the same memories, grow feelings for each other but we should not be making their life anymore. It is time for us to create our very own life, following or not their advices but definitely not blaming them for the mistakes we make anymore.

Yet, here I am, knowing I probably won't do any of that for a while yet. I'm back to that little girl forgeting almost all I've learned in these years and doing things their way. Letting this family's way to get to me and bring me down to my knees. Trying so hard not to forget what I believe(d) into, what I want and how I want it. Even harder not to forget that there is a positive side to life even when they only see the nagative one.

Most of all I'm learning not to blame them for all those stupid decisions I sometimes make. Not to blame my family for this feeling of beeing an outsider, the black sheep of the family, another forever-student lost in the begining of my new adult life.

Not to blame the past for what may happen in the future.

Multitasking gets to a whole new level with me in the formula

Have you ever complained about your work? Have you ever complained about your work the next day as well? And the day after? With my couple years of age and first job in hand for last couple of months my friends and family had to listen to my whining again and again. If I didn't complain it was just because I really didn't want to turn into this whiny person that I myself couldn't listen to. So I quit. I'm still not sure if it's me being this modern person not willing to work hard or I actually made the right decision and this job wasn't worth my time or energy. But I've been sleeping much better since the first thought of my new freedom.

Except that this isn't really freedom I ended up with. My mind's been flying amongst billions of new thoughts, ideas, wishes since then. All these things I want to do with my new 'free' time, couple of unfinished businesses since before ... It turns out I don't have that much time at all.
Yet, the constant pressure in the back of my head is slowly dissapearing. I know that a big part of it was me and my haunting past, but in search of new, future me, I find an unemployed beginning a better one than the one of staying with my first making-me-unhappy job. I should definitely work harder on other relationships in my life though. The family's, boyfriend's and especially relationship with myself. Because  no matter how many I, me or myself's I can put in one blog like this, I'm still not caring about and for myself the way I should. Now this is the hard work of all hard works.

I have a bit of a bad feeling about saying that, after all I seem to be repeating myself a lot. It's like my new mantra: work on your relationship with yourself. You might not be sure if your job, boyfriend or anything else is worth of that, but you can be sure you are. You must be worth everything to youself. So from helping dad, helping the rest of my family, helping anyone who could use some help, I came to the point of helping myself.

Although it's not my favorite book (I only read first part and then simply watched the movie) I do feel like 'Liss' from Eat, Pray, Love - it's been bad, gone worse and it feels just like the rock bottom, right before I'll head back up. Today's me is the worst-hairstyle-day me. My hair's only going to grow and look better from now on and so will I. And if I end up beautiful, in love with a Javier look a like in Bali, I promise I definitely won't complain about that.

Dreams

When my alarm went off this morning and I opened my eyes, two captured tear drops spilled out. I cried in my sleep. I remember one in the series of dreams was about a day at home, and the way dreams go many various stories went on simultaneously. But only one could be the one that made me cry. I had a fight with my family, facing first my sister, then mom and in the end my dad. I chose the right painful words for each one of them, like carefully directed blows. The look in dad's eyes was too real for dreams. Once again I hurt him most.

I don't remember ever crying in my sleep before.

The further the better

Melancholic depressed people as we are in our family we look at the world in an extremely hostile way as if the life was made only to run us down, again and again. Studies and distance from my family enabled me to see the other side of it. In the moment of worse life crisis they faced me with mirrored images of me. The same in the exactly opposite way. New boyfriend and friends, which I ran into just before dad's accident, are the kind of people who believe that they only get what they expect and want from life - and that is always a positive thing. Even if something that at first seems bad happens, ther is a good purpose behind it.

Away from the family a started living for real and pushed aside that genetic predisposition for depression. But, as a black hole sucks everything in, coming back home turns you outside in again. I'm now finishing college, learning so much about myself and my dearest as I never have before. I'm learning to think positively, running away from the negative mindset, which seems like it can't be changed. My relationships with individuals in our family might have improved in quality yet the continue to go on with their lifes in nearly exactly the same way they always did. And when I let it, my life follows their way again.

I think this is the time for me to choose my own future. To choose my new home. God knows I love my family best when I'm far away from them. That's when I know I'll miss them and be honestly looking forward to seeing them.

---

Melanholični depresivci, kakršni smo v naši družini, na svet gledamo izredno sovražno kot da je življenje tu zato, da nas povozi, vsak dan znova. Študij in oddaljenost od družine sta mi omogočila videt še drugo stran. V času največje krize pa mi ob stran postavila moje zrcalne podobe. Nov fant in prijatelji, ki sem jih spoznala malo pred očetovo nesrečo so ljudje, ki verjamejo, da dobijo od življenja samo tisto, kar pričakujejo - in to je vedno pozitivno. Tudi če se zgodi kaj na prvi pogled slabega, se to zgodi s svojim namenom.

Stran od družine sem že zaživela na polno in potisnila tisto genetsko depresivno predispozicijo na stran, a kaj ko te kot črna luknja potegne nazaj vase, v trenuku ko se vrneš domov. Zdaj zaključujem prvi del študija, učim se o sebi in svojih najbližjih kot se nisem nikoli prej. Učim se pozitivnih vzorcev in bežim od negativnih, ki jih ne morem spremenit. Moj odnos s posamezniki v družini se je mogoče izboljšal kakovostno, vendar njihovo življenje še vedno teče po istih tirih naprej. In kadar mu pustim, povleče mene za sabo.

Mislim, da je čas, da izberem svojo prihodnost. Da izberem svoj novi dom. Ker, bog ve, imam svojo družino najraje, ko sem daleč stran. Vem, da jih bom takrat spet pogrešala in se veselila snidenja.

The pain in the a** of making right choices

I had a week of good old fashioned holiday with no worry, no (hard) work and lots of books books books. I  kind of miss the sea part of summer holiday a little but you can't have it all, can you. I miss the sun a lot with al this clouds above us, but you can't have it all. Or can you?

Anyway, by the end of the week I finished reading 'Tis from Frank McCourt and by the end of the book the good part of the holiday was gone. I was bored with no worries on my mind for such a long time and there it was, What the fuck are you doing with you life?! runing back and forth in my head again.

I'm at nearly exactly the same point as most of my closest friends were when they were close to finishing schooling. I was very good at school through all these years. Now, having only two little steps to get to the finish, it seems like I tripped over my own foot, just like that other time when I was the fourth runner at torch run, tripped at the last moment and ended up litteraly flying to the finish line. The one funny part of it was how my friends thought I was doing it to win the team a better position ... I guess the funny part now would be how others think I'm running so damn well with all the opportunities waiting for me.

Yet, to me it's almost painful, I really don't want to finish with school, just as much as I'm terrified only thinking of continuing, getting a higher degree, sitting in the class again listening to professors' theory about how they're the one and only god of whatever they're teaching. On the other hand, 8-4 work in an office sitting behind a computer, starting now and until I turn half blind sounds just as scary. Is there realy nothing more I can do with my life? Oh but there is, there's plenty of choices, none of them an easy one though ... Could I even deal with the tough choices? I can't even get my whole family to fight dad's alcoholism together.

I'd say McCourt wasn't the best reading for me at the moment, facing me even harder with the cyclic life of an addicted soul. His direct writing felt good anyways, it felt so close, as if an AA member would be telling me his story with the only purpose to share it with me so I know that I'm not alone in the fight.

'This leads to an argument where I tell her I know my father drank too much and abandoned us but he's my father, not hers, and she'll never understand how it was when he didn't drink, mornings I had with him by the fire,  listening to his talk about Ireland's noble past and Ireland's great sufferings.'

He's my dad, he won't be erased from my life but I have to move on on my own now, carefully making the choice that will be best for my own future. He didn't teach me how to make the right decisions maybe and I thought for long that he was at least the role model of the life I have to avoid, something I have to run from for any price. Running away doesn't sound like a rational thing to do either any more now.

Afterall ... 'isn't this the country where all things are possible, where you can do anything you like as long as you stop complaining and get off your ass because life, pal, is not a free lunch.'

In the end, I just want to have a good strong sleep and wake up with a feeling that I (can) do something. Move the mountains. One at a time. That's all. 


Only I can't seem to find anyone who'd kick my ass off the comfy seat of our modern education process.

She's a Little Runaway

Hello there, and greetings from Germany!

Yes, I did it, I packed up (if you can call throwing everything you might find useful in the biggest available suitcase) and left on a real journey! It took me two times eight hours to get to my destinations and it was equally exhausting as it was pleasant to be travelling again, travelling cheap that is - sharing a lift, taking a train etc. It felt like such a long time ago when I was last abroad like this, hoping that I don't miss the next train or break a nail carrying that g**d**n heavy suitcase. Thanks god I was lifting weights for last couple of weeks!

I'm not fond of German language, actually the whole culture for that matter. I can understand some words and more importantly can say something like 'nicht verstehe' good enough for everyone to stop with that German chattering of theirs. Well, half of them actually just nods and continues talking, somehow believing that I will understand them for some reason.

It makes it all an even bigger adventure like this, although I'm on most safe way of travelling to meet my moms desires at least a bit. I don't suppose you'd be surprised if I told you she'd prefered I'd stay at home, always. Anyway, it's the best distraction in months, being completely on my own somewhere I almost know nothing at all. And seeing my dearests again!

First time after all this I feel that I don't have the need to write this blog. Running away every now and then has always been my thing, afterall.

Getting back to you

Green is known for it's calming effects, it's the color to surround youself with if you want to meditate. And it most definitely works for me.

Things are changing soooooo slowly, with smaller than mouse's steps I am in the end moving on. I think. Oh and I think a lot! I'd say about 70 % of my waking time I think and try to figure out the whys, hows, wheres ... and with the rest of the time I actually do something.

I feel disappointed of myself for all the things I wanted to do with my life by now. It felt like I have all this time and although I always knew I'll never be able to fullfill all my wishes and ideas, there were things I thought I will do. But they're still waiting for me. They wait for my decision only. Everything else's supposed to be only excuses.

Yet, I find deciding even harder lately.

Besides being at the begining of my 'adult' life, of creating my own life, in the times of so called crisis, finishing school ... slowly ... besides all this normal things that accompany every important step in life, I have trouble sorting my priorities out. Another new feeling that appeared just recently is that I'm ready to move out. Leave for good, without weekends at home. And not only am I ready for it, I feel like this should be my next step, this is what I need to help myself move on in a good way, without regrets. Regrets like - is my family ready for this?

It took me 4 years to accept the idea of dad's alcoholism and start living with it. I still remember the exact day before this couple of years when I realized that it went to far. Other things followed (and I realized later that some preceded as well) that brought me down to the bottom of that era. In next months I built a small wall around myself, keeping all of my real self in there, consuming and diggesting itself all over again. Instead of getting better, I created non-identifiable fear. At that point I started being afraid of everything that might go wrong. I was afraid of driving. I was afraid of being driven. I was afraid my dad could have a heart attack. I was afraid my grandma could have a stroke. I was afraid what could happen to any of us if ...

I was afraid of everything, I saw potential danger in everything. You can imagine I became a very nervous person. I was afraid of what consequences that might have on my body. I pushed the button 'PAUSE'. Time went on although I felt as if frozen in it and after a while, after quite some time, I got to see that my life moved on somehow, without me. Things turned out for better, at school, at home, I got a job, I fell in love. Fears remained but they were quieter. The wall around me softened enough for me to feel the sun beams getting through.

After that, life happened again. The way it's supposed to be - it went a bit up then a bit down, and up, and down ... it's own way. Dad's accident happened. I realized nothing really changed at all.

Four years of life, new experiences, aquaintances, friends, family members, getting ill and getting better, yet here I was, with and alcoholic dad, a family who blamed him for whatever he did and myself who hadn't done anything about it.

I sometimes feel like things aren't moving at all for last couple of months. But when I thing of these four years I know I've done a lot. I don't want to call those years to be wasted, as they weren't, they were just a very slow progress, some kind of movement, just like a very slowly moving river that on surface looks like a swamp.

I'd say there's still a wall around me, although it might not be so thick anymore. I'm still afraid of many things, I guess I'm in some constant panic about what might happen. During these four years a fear of height appeared from nowhere and I can't seem to get rid of it though loving rock climbing! No matter what, all of this, and more, lead me only one way - to getting back to myself.

As slowly as it's going, I'm sure of my progress. And I'm sure of dad's progress. But I'm not sure for the rest of my family. Their four years have been lasting for much longer time and I'm not sure how close to its ending are they ...

Into the wild

Couple months ago I went from writing this blog to long walks in nature and started collectiong herbs. By now I have more than 20 different kinds, all have some kind of healing power, couple of most healty ones tastes more than awfull, most of the rest makes a fine cup of tea. Wherever I walk I can't but look for known and unknown flowers that could turn out to be useful. Mostly with my dog, who became a great companion on these quests, even though she sometimes scares me even more when there's a strange sound in the bushes nearby. On other occasions I'm simply rude, looking away from a person talking to me, walking with me through the town. First thought when I come back home after couple of days are my drying herbs. First concern when thinking about long vacation abroad are herbs. Second place goes to the dog and then the rest of the family. Sorry guys.

This whole 'herbal witch' thing got under my skin. In this last period of my life herbs have successully started healing my soul. Surrounded by green, the wind, birds, colorful landscape, the fear of meeting a bear, wild boar or a huge deer, well, all this creates an irreplaceble environment for getting closer to myself, to nature, to life. In search of new flowers I think of that only, which is an incredible new feeling of clear, nearly empty mind. Getting far enough from home and reaching that 'green' mind set is to me the best moment to connect my mind with heart. To think clearer, to feel stronger (thanks to elevated sense of fear of a possible meeting with a bear, I guess), and especially to be just a being conversing with another (as I said my dog is great, always listens to what I say) (... unless there's a deer within her reach, of course).

My sanity might have never been so questionable before. Yet, I feel so sane. It's just that - I don't feel good, or smarter, or better, or healthier ... - I feel sane, because I feel myself.

Most likely, it's just another non-existant structure neither in English nor in my language. It's meaning probably hasn't much sense in linguistics, maybe there actually is an appropriate word for it, but to me the word itself doesn't really matter. It is a feeling I want to present. I doubt that it can be put in man-created words, just like love, which has so many various meanings that the feelings one has could never be expressed solely by this four-letter word.

Anyway, it seems like I lost track of my thoughts. So let me get back to my herbs, which are quietly waiting to be sorted out in paper bags. I'm pretty sure this will also sort my thoughts out and I'll get back to you saner.

When is a good day just a good day?

My family's had couple of nice and positive days, even though that still includes our special way of sarcastic/cynical/sometimes barking communication and attitude towards life. Kind of hard to explain better, I suppose one either knows the feeling or doesn't.

Anyway, in this happy family world I wouldn't be myself if I wouldn't worry ... We're far from a perfect happy family, I could still kick my sister's ass every day for some reason or another and I can't stand seeing the kid wasting all this time either on computer or in front of TV! My mom, that's a whole another story as I'm never sure if she'll accept my jokes or get offended by it. On the other hand my relationship with dad is nearly rock steady at the moment (knocking on the wood...). The two of us have had some pretty rough times of not talking/hating each other for months and even years. It's a great step forward that we can talk, even when it means that we fight. Rarely any discussion is finished in mutual agreement on a matter, we're both too stubborn and always too proud to admit a mistake. But we TALK. I say something, he listens. He says something, I listen.

Well, not always, to be completely honest. It's still a daughter-daddy relationship :)

So the thing that worries me is how do I know if he's genuinely in a good mood or if it is already the peak of current enthusiasm before the deep fall back into the regular mood? It's so unusual to be able to converse with him and see him in good spirits, even though I can't really differ any more if's it's because he's had some spirits or is it the real feeling ... And then when he's in a really good mood it just confuses me more! Sure, I wouldn't have problems with this if his general health condition would be ok and not one of an alcoholic ...

The other night the whole family went out together, I'd say it's been lots of months if not years since this last happened. It this then that I saw how we were a really happy family, 2 boys and 3 girls, who love to dance  and ruled the dancefloor. I'm not exaggerating, we do look our best when we dance all together :) Anyhow,  dad of course danced with all of us girls, and that's when this unnecessary thought came to my mind and got stuck there since.

How much can he take? What if his body can't work with all this sudden activity and excitement?

Is there an answer to that, that I could find somewhere?

We might move on but the world stays pretty much the same

I didn't talk about dad in a while. Lots has happened and is still happening. Gladly, I can say that now the 'happening' got a more active undertone. The story's viewpoint changed as the main character stopped solely observing its environment and continued with ones life.


It took me quite some time to realize how this blog isn't about getting my dad straight at all. It's simply about getting myself straight.

It was and still is god damn hard to face alcoholism. However, I wouldn't change this last couple of months for nothing. Yes, I'm an even bigger cryer now - there's hardly a post written without tears! I also find it really hard not to show when I'm in good mood for a change, I realized by now that dancing on a song that comes to your ears while waiting for a bus isn't really a common behaviour. In the end - I grew couple years mentally older and yet I look so young, now even younger with my new boy-cut hair!

To sum it all, sarcasm rocks! Being able to fluently digest problems in shortest time possible even more. Not feeling like you have to know everything and be responsible for whatever happens in the world is a priceless lesson d'Amelie Poulain. 


In any case, I've a lot to learn still, besides mastering sarcasm to a quality level. No matter what happens, life goes on, and it's only up to you if you adapt to its new form or not. Yes, it can hurt, it can hurt a lot and the pain won't just go away with time. Then one day it will become just a painfull memory, one brick among all other moments that built up your life's home.

As for my dad, he is in the phase of believing he can become a moderate drinker again. He drinks, less but still. He's changing slowly with every day yet staying the same in manners I'd wanted him to change. What matter most, is that we get along better now. Whenever it'll happen, I'll be there when he'll want to move on.


Told you I was a cryer! ;(

On my own again ... what now?

Vacation in Macedonia felt SOOO good!!! Yet here we are, back to real life. We spend another couple of days together with my family and then my dearest boyfriend  packed up ALL of his stuff and left for Germany ... So this is it, I'm on my own again, trying to figure out where will I head to next.


I felt guilty for days about going on vacation when I have all these unfinished businesses at home, oh yes, I did! It nearly tore me appart to see my closest friend pack and leave, knowing he's not coming back - for years. Then slowly, things started moving around me so I made a step forward and moved on along with them. In that moment the guilt was gone, I did gain even more than I expected from macedonian time, I got the will to finish school back. Now that's a good start, isn't it?

On the other hand, I'm becoming more and more attracted by the idea of writing my final papers in Germany - just don't tell that to my parents yet, ok? ;) Anyway, I highly doubt that I could gather enough courage to get all my stuff together and leave to another country in search of a better opportunities. Temporarily, I don't have issues with that. Take ALL of my things and LEAVE for indefinite period, no, I don't have the guts for that. Yet ...


Is it better to invest more in your intellect and then let yourself be pushed around by more experienced and intellegent adults who haven't moved there behinds from on sit to another in decades? Or just get this basic dregree and then work in whatever you get a chance to really develop and prove yourself in, that is take whatever you get and built your way up with work instead of school?

Stay somewhere you know exactly how things move and don't like that way at all or start from scratch somewhere new where there might be better just as well as they might turn out to be far worse?

Thanks god I'm just a twenties girl and don't need to know answers to that. Soon enough I'll learn what I am to know.

In any case, we're all just students of life. Nobody really knows life - even less understands it. Fact. 

A promise is a promise

 Camomille in the city

 Unknown beauty

 Posing I

 Unknown whatever:)

Posing II

 Ohrid lake 

 Ohrid lake II

Herb

Packed up and left ...

Not for Germany though :) I couldn't decide for a long time when I realized that going on vacation after all this would actually mean putting myself first again. So I did the right thing, what my psychologist and my friends wanted me to do for a while now, packed up some stuff and leave on vacation - and I did it for ME.

It feels good, being abroad, not worrying about anyone or anything. It feels good to do what I want. It feels good to be a guest and be served to. It feels good to sit empty-headed simply enjoying the sun. Well, at least it felt good for the first couple of day, then the guilt came back onto my mind, I have to write a paper, I have to work on my final thesis, I have to work on the project, I have to do my job ... Arghh!!! When did those carefree years gone by?? I'm anything but old, I don't even think of myself as an adult, yet for last couple of years I have to count by hand every single time one asks me how old I am. How fast things change!

Oh well, I worry again about all the stupid little things that eat on our health every day but I having a blast. I LOVE to travel!!! I love to photograph - and I'll share some of my favorite pictures with you! :)

Moving ... to Germany?! :S

Gosh, I couldn't have never guessed something like this will happen! Last week, when I was already crazy nervous about an exam that I had to take, my darling boyfriend who's also one on my few friends I have here, at home, told me he's moving to Germany soon. He's been here for couple years now, a foreigner in my home country and now he's moving on.

He got this great opportunity to start on his own, have his own restaurant! It will be a huge adventure but it's an opportunity you grab in a second or let go and wait for years to get another one ... He's the kind of person who GRABS every opportunity he gets and moves on with optimism and smile on his face no matter what happens. I'm everything but that :)

Last couple of weeks he was all nervous and weird because he was waiting for this deal to closed and he didn't want to tell anyone about it until he was sure it'll work. Considering the difference between us ... we were fighting a lot for all possible stupid things in this time. Me, I was preparing to end the relationship. And then boom - he told me the news that explained everything and changed everything!

I'm supposed to be finishing my schooling at the university in autumn, I'm tired of what I'm going through here for last couple of months, fighting for a 'lost' cause on my own, I'm tired of my first boss at my first job, I'm tired of writing last two papers for school for weeks that turned into months ...

Gosh, you know, I've saved some money - enough for a one way ticket and couple of weeks - I want to leave with him!!! Finish my diploma there and then see what and where I want to go next ... do I have the guts to do it?

Moving on with what's left of my life

It seems that last 8 months have gone by so fast, I can't decide if that would be positive or negative. I probably learned a lot of valuable lessons of life but they took so much time and energy for me that I kind  of skipped other things in life that matter just as much.

After couple year of being partly on my own, coming home only and not even for every weekend, I developed a different way of living. Weekends with family were relaxing, spending time with pets, enjoying outdoor activities etc. On the other hand, dad's drinking got bigger and bigger issue and in the middle of schooling, those weekends turned into good and bad ones. I had a life of my own, then by the end of the week I was desperatly hoping for a good weekend in another life, with family. No matter what, the negativity, sarcasm, disgust, fear, hate and lonelyness changed us all, even in good times, we drag them along, preventing ourselves from becoming happy.

Friends told me not to feel so guilty about family's situation, not to blame myself for it. In last couple months I stopped feeling responsible for everything but I know being a part of it for so many years - I now believe it was always existing, alcohol(ism) was always somewhere in our family's subconsious - makes me just as guilty for it as everyone else is. We're human, we make mistakes, but we also make or don't make decisions.

Only recently I decided that I want and can change it, that I can help dad and the family and I can help myself to a better future. The quest changed it's path in the meantime, as others didn't want to move on with me, I kept on going with one purpose only - to change myself. Hopefully, I will succeed and if so, hopefully, my family will start following my steps on their own path.

Things turned out this way that I'm still spending more time at home than in my appartment at the city where I have a job. Dad's doing really good, however I can't agree with him on the way he wants to solve the problem. I hate watching him drink a glass of wine or beer and seeing as mush of shame because we all know, because we all 'monitor' his every sip, as there is the fear of wanting more after the last sip of that one glass. It kills me to know that these feelings most likely won't ever be gone, not the way he (we) is thinking now. It kills me to see others move on in nearly exactly the same way they did before, just hoping that this it it,  that we're done with it - not even thinking about changing their own ways as well as dad's trying to change his. It is his decision, he is the one to be strong and fight against the need for more but things like alcoholism don't evolve because of one reason, they are the result of multiple factors, including lifestyle, relationships, family's attitude towards life ...

At this point, again, I wish to do it my way and follow my beliefs. I want to move out for real, go back to what I want to live like, get back my friends and social life and at least in the very last thought that would cross ones mind be a positive example of how things can change and not the negative selfish bastard who left others struggle on their own ...

Mom and dad are buying a new bed

The other day mom and I were walking down the street, talking about new bed they'll buy with dad. We went to couple stores together a week earlier and she was telling me about the offers and prices of another shop she went to. I just bought a new bed last year and man, does it feel good to sleep in it! Anyway, that's why I want them to buy it as soon as possible so that they can have a good sleep again after a long time.

Walking down that street, talking about different options, what would be best for them, how they'll be paying for it ... in the middle of all that I had a flash: Wait, I'm supposed to be the husband here?!

In case you didn't catch that before, my dad doesn't do shopping as much as he doesn't talk much. His patience is sometimes nonexistant. Mom's (nearly) a shopaholic in comparison and indecisive on top.

No wonder she likes talking to me about the issues she has, issues they have with dad. I'm glad that she finds comfort in me but I feel like it went to far recently. I really do feel like she wants me to be a friend and husband for her, much more then I am supposed to be her daughter. Hard to explain. But it might be that she transfers what she's missing in her relationship with her husband to her daughter, the good listener (yeah, I talk a lot, but I can listen as well, if I concentrate ...).

Psychiatrist's reaction to this was: 'What do you think she'd do if you'd stop 'being the husband' for her?'

I might just try that ... Just not in the 'buying bed' case - they need it ASAP! :)

Only us kids can't help him now ...

My parents' childhoods were made of book series material: both lost their dads when they were couple years old and the life that followed was even harder than it was already before.

Grandma (dad's mom) raised three little kids on her own from their early years when they couldn't even remember what their dad was like. Being a nurse, always at work and living in her late husband's village, life didn't spare her. The kids were looked after by aunts and grandparents. Later, dad's granpa moved in with them because they couldn't stand his drinking at his house. He was a good man and all, my dad's role model no.1.

Mom was the oldest of three kids who lost their parents when she wasn't even 10. After dad's death my mom's mother was left with the kids and a whole load of debts not being able to finish the projects of dad's company, she soon left north to be able to earn more money. The kids were divided between three families of relatives, which were good to them but they were separated and often felt like intruders in other families. Mom's second family lost their father rather early as well.

Following this, my childhood was rather special as well, having parents who leart parenting on their own. I haven't forgotten the pain they caused us so many times but I don't blame them anymore. We have good relationship now, especially with mom, with whom we're actually great friends who can talk about everything. Well, recently I kind of started getting on her nerves and I don't really know where we're at anymore. I've been working on understanding dad, his past, his present, his feelings and fears ... I hated the feeling of blaming him for the whole situation even though I rationally realized it's not his fault, at least not entirely. Talking to him, even though we're both rather slow and quiet when it comes to talking about feelings, talking to mom and grandma about life before us kids, seeing his real effort and him being now more aware of his actions related to alcohol, all that helped me a lot.

It helped me stop blaming him and being hurt by nearly everything he did. And it helped me transfer my negative feelings towards mom.

I faced her couple times lately, I put pressure on her because she only complains and mumbles everytime she doesn't like dad's actions and because of the way she radiates negativity if dad's by any chance happy or making jokes, her thinking he must be drunk to do that. Yet, all she does is give him her Look (if you knew my mom, or me in fact, you'd knew that look that could kill, if it were possible) and mumbles so that everyone else but him actually hear her comments. We talked about it and she confirmed what I was afraid of - she gave up. She has no more energy to fight once more with alcoholism, all she seems to be able to do is hope everytime dad tries to stay sober.

I can't stand this, I can't stand the fact that I've done the next step, invited her several times to come with me in search for help, and she doesn't want to do a thing. I respect her not pretending and giving me hopes anymore that she might go with me next time, yet I can't respect her for what she said the other day:

"I tried, I did everything I could and it was useless. Only you, his kids, can help him now."

WTF?! What kind of a parent are you to leave kids deal with an issue like that on their own?! Where's being a CHILD go together with FIGHTING ALCOHOLISM?

Facing psychiatrist, facing myself, facing my dad

After all this time, I wanted to blog again – and blogger is down! Irony? Sarcasm? Coincidence? Just my luck?

I don’t really want to talk about any of this as life is playing one pretty damn interesting game with me right now, keeping one thing for sure, I’m definitely not bored. I started writing because it helped me in dealing with issues before, in my teenage years. Soon after the begining I didn’t want to write anything more, it was making me even more depressed thinking about it all, writing it down, re-reading it … feeling like I’m not actually DOING anything about it.

At that time I also found out about a place I can afford, a nonprofit organization, where I could talk to someone who knows more about fighting alcoholism and made my first appointment with a psychologist. I cried the whole hour and spoke franticaly, obviously very hard to be understood at all. But the reaction to my first action was more than I expected. At that moment, simply having a professional to listen to you and plainly and directly tell you that you’re not the only one going through such a thing, even more important, giving you a positive image of the future, meant a lot to me.

Going home, looking down, hiding my cried out eyes, I’ve had a lot to digest. Thoughts, ideas, options, actions … I went to the place couple times now and moved on a lot. I told my whole family I’m seeing a psychiatrist about dad’s drinking, invited them several times to come with me. Dad doesn’t know about this. I think.

But after a little while the pressure was too hard and my personal life stood still in a place that I didn’t like for too long, I needed to face dad. I wasn’t able to talk to him about how I feel, about how it got too far, how the situation hurts and influences us all. So I wrote him a letter.

Even after couple weeks, even months, I start crying remembering his reaction. I got the sweetest txt from him as I wasn’t at home at that moment. Sweetest because it was so much like who he was before all this. Straight and honest, without sarcasm, disappointment, anger or any other negative feelings I expected of him. I don’t remember when was the last time or if he ever told me before that he loves me, us – his family.

Dad and I used to had ups and downs that could go on for months. We now successfully moved to positive, open and direct communication, we talk more, we fight less. One day I even managed to tell him in person what the whole family was afraid of telling him for months. How his body is physically addicted to alcohol. How he was taking drugs for abstinence crisis for couple weeks because the doctor figured him out on his first morning in the hospital after the accident.

He now knows. He knows I know. He knows he can talk to me.

Yet we’re stuck in this vacuum of silence, waiting for … waiting for what?!

I hope we're having a good day this weekend ...

Counting days by good and bad ones replaced the ordinary calendar. Thankfully I migrate to another city during the week, only coming home for weekends. I can escape the situation and usually turn off the thoughts about my dad, a well appreciated opportunity that the rest of the family doesn't have. Five days a week it's me, my life, my wants and needs. I do things that other students do, attend classes, study, go out for lunch or just for fun, attend various events, drink and dance, try to keep up with my interests, check FB and mail, stay up all night chatting with roomates, go for a walk in the park with my date, overcook pasta, order food to take home, miss a bus and catch the next one wet from the rain because I forgot my umbrella, get everywhere 5 minutes later as agreed. Last couple years number of classes decreased, economical situation changed and I started working, so I now proudly represent a group of trendy young people working in offices sitting behind computer screens all day long. Yeah, by the end of the week I might even get a bit more sarcastic and cynical.

Now, here's why I love my life:
On fridays I return Home, to a calm village with a little church, where everyone knows everyone, get news on sundays after mass, go for a cup of coffee or tea to a neighbor, make barbeque on the front yard, let the cat sleep out over the night and take the dog for a walk in the forest. Does is sound too idyllic? Trust me, it's is as beautiful as you can imagine. Considering that the people always add that something which makes the perfection of nature a bit less perfect. No matter what, my home is a place of natural beauty, away from the smell and the noise of the city, where I can let the stress out and relax in peace.

Then, as a part of my growing up experience, I got used to using the term 'bad day'. We were having more and more of them. My dad started having 'bad days', weekend, weeks ... until there was another 'we're having a good day'.

'Bad day' to me and my family is a day of weakness, when there's one bad thing too much so you give it all up and become a bad thing yourself. Negativity, depression, hatred, disappointment, resentment, anger, fights, silence. Your senses notice a different tone of voice, cold look, that awful smell. Negative energy spreads from my dad to all of us and it turns out to be yet another heartbreaking weekend of painful truth.

Yearning for stress-free environment and acceptance of my loved ones I returned home coming onto another 'bad day' too many times. It sucked out the rest of my energy for the week and the only thing that was worse than that was going back to my 'other' life, starting a new week feeling half dead, too often wishing I was dead.


Sometimes hoping that things will change, hoping that people can change.

Days turned into months, months into years ... nothing changed

Just now I remembered a little detail of that day, one that I pushed aside in my memory ... Before he left for work that day, I noticed that he prepared a bottle of juice to take to work, which was strange because they could get that kind of juice at work from those things with drinks and junk food. It was the same bottle, the same color of content ... He was taking a small juice bottle of wine to work and he was hiding it from others carefully.

After that evening dad seemed to realized that the whole thing went to far. He decided to stop drinking beer until summer, which meant couple months. He was sober for couple of weeks than his mood changed and again there was another weekend of hard drinking. No beer. Just more wine and stronger liquor, spirits.

Whole family, neighbours and his friends knew about his 'no beer' mission and nobody saw anything strange in this. It was kind of popular in that period to have goals like this, somebody decided not to drink any alcohol for couple of months, another person quit on certain kinds of drinks, others were starting to eat healtier and workout. The generation in their 50ies was making new resolutions for the new half century of their lives. For the first time they calculated how much working years they have left before their retirement, started dreaming of their new freedom with limited budget yet all that time that they will have. Women went to bed with warm feet, men with cold ones. Women accepted they were going into menopause, men just whined about the strange changes.

Ups and downs come and gone ... The only thing that really changed is how everybody accepted the new condition they were in and went along with it. We all grew old a little, us kids grew taller, changed lines of our faces a little, started thinking a bit differently, our parents gained couple wrinkles, pounds and wisdom of the old ones.

But my dad was still drinking.

The how

It's been couple years now since I've first realized how far the situation was. I probably knew before, somewhere deep down, but the moment when I truly, rationally accepted the fact that my dad can't control his drinking, will stay in my memory for good.

The society in which my family lives is one of those that very aggressively force alcohol into your live. The good host always offers wine and beer first, if you refuse both, they offer you something stronger, if you refuse that, they make sure you're not being shy for some reason before offering you no alcohol drink. When men of the village get together to renew ones roof or something, women form troops which take care that none of them get even close to  being 'thirsty'.

When I was a little girl, I thought guys never even drink anything else but beer and wine. And I never thought my dad was ever drunk during the day. If we went out in the evening and dad drank a glass too much, mom was always driving back home. Even though secretly, I thought my dad was still a better driver even with some alco in his blood, than my mom when she's tired ... Anyway, my dad never drove when he drank that one glass or a bottle too much.

One day, when I was still a young driver, I had to pick him up after work, 10 pm. He wasn't waiting for me yet, so I moved to the passanger seat like I was used to ('if there is a man in a car, it should be him driving, because men are better drivers', another brilliant idea of my environment). When dad got out of the company, he looked a bit strangely at me, asked me why did I move, but still - sat onto the drivers seat and off we went. When he got to the exit from the parking lot, I knew he was drunk. Completely drunk.

Usually it takes us about 15 minutes to get home. I didn't look at the clock but it was definitely longer that time and those couple minutes were one of my worst ones. We were driving in the middle of the road, moving to the right just in time to avoid cars passing by. We nearly crashed too ... It was late and there weren't many other cars, we were lucky. But we couldn't completely avoid one of the oncoming cars and broke the side mirror. Dad stopped the car, I unleashed my seat belt, 'GET OUT OF THE CAR, I'M DRIVING HOME!!'

He shrugged his shoulders, 'What's done is done, I might as well drive all the way home.' We were only half way.

We got home safety, without any other accident, yet the world seemed to start collapsing. My dad, who never drinks and drives, just sat behind that wheel completely drunk, coming home from work with his daughter on the passanger seat!

The starting point has to be tough

It took me much too long to figure out the most basic title to this blog. What is it about? What do I want to write about and what for? My family, my dad, or is it all just about me, needing time and space to express the confusion of thoughts that are mingling with most various ideas coming to my mind.

Am I setting a goal, objective, or am I on a mission? What is the difference between these words? How can I fully express myself after deciding to write in a foreign language? Does any of this matter?

Everything matters. I want this to be my way of contributing to a better present, creating a stronger foundation for my family's future. Writing has helped me before, however this time the topic is a bit too much for me to simply put it on a paper, which makes blogging the perfect choice.

My dad has problems with alcohol. I honestly believe he's not yet an alcoholic but he definitely needs help with it. I'm 24, soon to be graduating from university. My family is just another family, with a teenager, money problems and cable TV. I hope there are yet many years of stupid fights, jokes that only us five understand, things that we'd never talk about together, colds and flus that we'll share, in front of us. I don't want life as it is now to change suddenly for a such seamless life companion as only alchol can be.

I've accepted the fact that it has gone over the edge and that we got to a point where we can't seem to find any good way to move on without consequences. I am not asking for help, I just want to share this experience with 'the web world'. And if anyone wants to share his or her thoughts, I'd be grateful for a comment ...

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