Two years….

It’s been two years. Many of you have been with me long enough to remember when I posted this last year. And many of you have not. Needless to say, I needed to post this today to remind my self.

As I read over this, I was struck how different my life has been this past year. I feel like a totally different person.

And not that this is anything to celebrate, but today marks 2 years since my last DWI. That means I have officially gone the longest I have ever gone without getting a DWI. All 3 DWIs were just under two years apart. On the one hand I am not surprised. I make much better decisions these days. On the other hand, it feels like this all happened only yesterday.

Here is the entry I posted on my one year "anniversary."

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Today’s the day.

January 10th.

Well, besides the fact that it’s my ex-fiance’s birthday today…

One year ago today was the last day I was able to drive my car.

One year ago today was the last day I saw my car.

One year ago today was the last day I was legally aloud to consume alcohol FOR THE REST OF MY LIFE.

A year ago today I was arrested and taken into custody where I would don an orange jumpsuit for 6 days and have the experience of a lifetime.

And I remember it like it was yesterday.

So I thought I would write an entry about the things I have learned over the past year to celebrate. Because even though a year ago today was the beginning of the most difficult year of my life, it was also the beginning of a new me.

And I am grateful.

In the last year, I have learned….

That handcuffs really DO hurt, and they really CAN make you bleed – even if you are fully cooperative.

That even when taking someone to jail, cops are running license plates of cars they come accross in their travels – and if they come across something questionable, they will pull someone over with you in the backseat.

That jail guards really don’t care if you have your period. Your only option is to use a huge pad. And when that’s full…ask for more. Maybe…if we aren’t busy… we will give you one. Oh and by the way…the clothes you have on now, including your underwear, are the clothes you will have on for the next 6 days. And no, we don’t have deoderant.

That when you think you will have nothing in common with the people you are in jail with, you learn that jail really is an equalizer and that there are other people there – just like you – who know that after they are released from the cement walls, there life will never be the same.

That you really can survive without food or water. And that if you are a good person, on Sunday – the day everyone gets bag lunches that include Oreo® cookies – the other inmates will give you their cookies without you even having to ask. Because they appreciate you. And because they know you haven’t been eating. And because even though in jail Oreo® cookies are like gold, they think you are worth far more than that. 

That in jail, you can dance, and sing, and laugh, and cry just like you can when you are not in jail. I also learned that the guards don’t really like when you dance the electric slide on your unit. They like watching the security cameras because its entertaining, but they are mad you are having a good time.

That no one’s parents should ever, EVER have to see their child from the other side of a bullet proof glass wall. But that they will be strong enough to do it if they have to – because they love you.

That you will have friends who are meeting up with each other trying to figure out ways to afford bail money if the judge lets you go on bail. If only you would have known that while you were locked up. It would have helped you get through.

That while you are in jail, you will receive a million voice messages from people that know what’s going on and want to call knowing you won’t get the message until you are out; and from people that don’t know what’s going on and are worried because they haven’t heard from you in a few days. And you will also get several angry messages from your abusive ex boyfriend telling you how awful you are for not answering his calls because he is locked up and "you should be there for him."

That when you get out of jail, and you put the battery back in your phone and you are waiting for your ride and it is -5 degrees outside, the voice messages from all of your friends will bring you to your knees, keep you warm, and bring tears to your eyes that will freeze before they roll of your cheek.

That nothing in the world feels better than a real shower with real soap and brushing your teeth with a real tooth brush after you haven’t done it for nearly a week.

That your boss, who knows nothing about the justice system, will try to drop you off some crossword puzzles to do while you are in jail because she knows you will be bored.

That six days can seem like 6 months when you are locked in a cement room that has no windows and lights that never turn off.

That even though you try to protect your parents from the hurt, they are strong enough to handle it and you need them to be because you couldn’t make it without them.

That when you call dad from the jail cell and you are crying and scared, he still thinks he can protect his little girl and asks to speak with a guard. Then you have to break his heart by telling him that you can’t put a guard on the phone – you are in jail, not the principal’s office. And you hear him gasp for breath because he realizes that for the first time in your life you have gotten yourself into a situation that he can’t save you from.

In the last 365 days I have learned…

That the nights I went out and had a good time with friends and made bad decisions are not worth the pain and anxiety I caused them afterwards.

And that some of your friends would understand and be supportive and some wouldn’t. And you have respect that.

That you will meet new friends along the way and they will be more supportive than you ever imagined. And sometimes you will think to yourself that they

are "too supportive." But then someone will remind you that there is no such thing. And that people make mistakes. And that you are worth it.

I have learned…

That I can survive without driving. This seems simple but clearly to me it took me many mishaps to get this through my head. The world will still turn if you don’t have a car.

That people who believe in you and think you are worth it will help you. And sometimes you will be able to return the favor and other times you won’t. But it won’t stop them from doing everything they can to help because they aren’t keeping score.

That there are some people that like when you are weak. Because then they think it’s okay to say things like "I’ll give you a ride if you fuck me first."

And that NO RIDE is important enough for you to degrade yourself like that.

That Karma is real. And that I am grateful I lived my life genuinely prior to this experience giving more than I could afford to give at times to help others. Because when I needed it, the favor was returned.

That I couldn’t have survived this without other people – family, friends, counselors, other people that have been in the same position, teachers, lawyers, and a judge that decided to take a chance on me. Oh, and people like YOU that let me be so ME and never let me forget the reason for my struggles and why it’s all worth it.

That without this experience in my life, I might still be with my ex – or I might not be here at all.

I have learned…

That I can still have fun with friends when alcohol is not involved. People still like me and think I am funny and smart and that alcohol makes me neither funny nor smart – nor any more attractive.

That you can save a lot of money when you aren’t out at the bars spending money on drinks, and leaving bigger tips than you should because leaving anonymous tips makes you feel good.

That all the things the court wants you to do like the classes and the treatment and the meetings and the alcohol tests are for your own good. And they really will work for you if you work for them. That there really is something to be gained even if you already think you know everything.

That you will cry in front of more people you don’t know than you will cry in front of people you DO know. But those people will comfort you and support you like they have known you for years.

That it feels good to not wake up on a Saturday or Sunday morning hung-over from the night before to tired to do anything useful with the day. A lot of work can get done on Saturday mornings if you are feeling up to it.

That you didn’t mind getting 4 breathalizers per day or wearing an alcohol monitoring ankle bracelet because you believed in yourself and you know that not drinking was the least of your worries. You are grateful you didn’t have to struggle to not drink.

That even people who’s lives or who’s loved one’s lives have been affected by drunk drivers don’t harbor any ill will towards you – if anything they respect you for making better choices.

That the risk of getting behind the wheel of a car even after having a little alcohol is not worth it. Even if it’s worth it to you, it’s not worth it to the people you will drag through the mud with you. And it’s not worth the risk of hurting or killing someone either. Just because you got lucky once doesn’t mean you’ll get lucky every time.

I have learned…

I’m not perfect nor will I ever be and that that’s okay.

That a man who is willing to sweep you off your feet during the darkest months of your life knowing your situation, your struggles and your batlles, – and offers to stand along side of you to help you fight them is a man worth giving your heart to.

And that he may drive like a maniac but at least he can drive. So shut your damn mouth and be grateful. At least try anyway.

That without him, I don’t know where I would be. He was the first person I called when I was arrested a year ago and he was the first person I thanked when I woke up this morning because he kept me alive.

That sometimes I can be a bitch because I am frustrated about being able to take care of myself. And that no one deserves my bitchiness.

And that people generally do not understand the emotional toll that relying so completely on others for so long can take on someone. Without these people I wouldn’t have been able to work. And without work I wouldn’t have been able to afford to live.  It’s hard trusting others so completely and leaving your fate in their hands.

But it’s also the most wonderful feeling in the world when people come through like they say they will.

That people like Chewie, and Charlie, and Jillyanne, and James and Jessica  truly are the best friends a girl could ask for. Because not only do they listen to me as I swing between hating myself and loving myself and the world around me, they are there for me and they go to great lengths to do so. And they all five had enough faith in me to directly give me the ability to get my license back by signing a paper stating I deserve it. The givernment requires five letters and these five provided these with no questions asked. Thank you for your support.

I learned…

That even grandma won’t hate me less than she already does because of my mistakes. And that she will have enough tact not to bring it up to me – probably the nicest thing she has ever done for me.

That a lot can happen in a year’s time. For better or for worse. And it’s yours to decide which road you want to take.

That a year ago today I was on again off again in an abusive relationship. I was arrested and detained. I was unknowingly starting the most powerful journey of my life. I was unconsciously testing the love of those around me.

That when I woke up a year ago today, I would never wake up the same person again after that.

And that it’s OKAY for me to take credit for the work I have done. Not everyone in my position has made it this far. Be selfish and recognize your efforts. There is a reason why I still have a job, a relationship, friends and family and why some people in my shoes are back in jail or worse.

In the last year, I have learned how to be me. Me without the alcohol, me without the ride. I have learned how to hurt like me, laugh like me, trust like me and cry like me. I have met myself and began living my life.

I am not perfect – nor will I ever be. But I am better. Stronger. Smarter. Wiser. More grateful. More sorry. And more appreciative than I was before this experience.

I don’t know how you can go through a culmination of experiences like the ones I have lived through in the last 365 days and not be a changed

person. I know there are people who do it, but I can’t imagine not being moved and changed by everything that has gone on.

There were lessons to learn, messages to receive, examples to make, challenges to face, changes to make, and friends to lose and find. And I am still doing all of these things and hopefully will never stop.

Just because a year has gone by doesn’t mean I am "cured." It doesn’t mean the hard work is over and that it’s a landslide from here on. It means just the opposite in fact. It means that now the true test begins. I am being given the chance to come out from under my rock and prove myself again. Make better choices when there actually are choices to be made – not decisions being forced upon you by some powers-that-be.

And even if I don’t get my license back tomorrow, I will keep trying. I will do whatever it takes.

I owe it to everyone around me for going through this journey with me – including you – who patiently sat by and read about my ups and downs and my moments of extreme happiness and my moments of extreme self doubt. Thanks to those of you that have stuck by me and not judged but empowered me and lifted me out of my funks. You will never understand the power your words have had.

I have learned that I am a survivor. And that things could be worse. And that I am not a hero like so many people I know, but that I am a lucky person blessed to know real-life heros.

I am human.

I am me.