sober lifestyle, Uncategorized

24 Hours

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My 24-Hour Chip. Ain’t She a Beaut?

I hate clichés. Don’t want to write them. Don’t want to say them. Don’t want to be one. I’ve always fancied myself a hard-core champion of originality, to the point that I can’t even bring myself to write “Happy Birthday” on someone’s Facebook page, because what’s the point of saying the same damn thing others have written 100 times already? If you can’t find the inspiration or time to give them something unique, might as well not bother!

Whew. Well, getting the f*ck over myself is a topic for another day.

Today we’re talking about clichés, because dammit, even though it’s difficult for someone like me to accept, clichés are often absolutely true and perfectly meaningful. You want to get all overthink-y and complicate things (and by “you,” I mean “I”) but in reality, a simple statement uttered and written a gazillion times throughout human history can really be the key to a happy life — if you internalize the message and turn it into action.

Take “One Day at a Time,” for example. Continue reading “24 Hours”

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The Introduction

I was already sweating, thanks to our ancient air conditioner that decided to break last Saturday — the day I took my last drink — and the home warranty company still giving us the business about fixing it four days later.

I was already on the verge of tears, after walking into a narrow room in a church basement packed with about 25 strangers. It was a bigger crowd than I had been expecting, a crowd that necessitated setting up chairs behind and alongside the main circle. I was an outsider, in every sense of the word. Continue reading “The Introduction”

sober lifestyle, Uncategorized

Perfectionism, Addiction, and Rebuilding Your Life at Age 41

Rock bottom. Has anyone reading this ever hit it and bounced back?

It’s not just a phrase, not a joke to me, and as I sit here, I am not even sure how to define it. I have thought, several times in the past several years of my life, as my lifelong journalism career evaporated, that I’d sunk to the lowest point I’d ever been in my 41-year lifetime. And yet I have continued to sink lower since I left my newspaper job and started working at a digital marketing agency – the only job offered to me in a four-month search last fall.

In all seriousness, I have contemplated ending my life, because by my standards, my life, all my academic and athletic talents, my Northwestern education, my 20 years of reporting on sports, all has amounted to nothing. Right now, I’m an entry-level nobody with everything – advanced age, lack of non-journalism experience, creative skillset – working against me. Continue reading “Perfectionism, Addiction, and Rebuilding Your Life at Age 41”

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The Importance of Being Dishonest

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Peter’s Poker Face. Wish I had one.

A while ago, someone I work with told me he had read my previous blog posts and they made him sad, made him “want to give me a hug.” But those sentiments clearly weren’t based on any kind of deep feeling of empathy. He didn’t relate to my words or my situation, didn’t try to see things from my perspective. I could immediately tell why he said what he said.

It’s because sharing your struggles, being really real about the hard truths and rough obstacles you face in life…that kind of honesty flat-out makes people uncomfortable. And they don’t want to deal with anything that makes them uncomfortable. Continue reading “The Importance of Being Dishonest”

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The Captain Marvel Effect

captainI knew I was a goner right away. The opening logo sequence that precedes every Marvel movie was, prior to “Captain Marvel,” a tribute to the late, great comic book genius Stan Lee, a hero to cartoonists everywhere, including my dear dad, an exceptionally talented artist who has schooled me in all things comic book throughout my life and, via nature and nurture, passed on the artistic sensibilities that have shaped my entire existence.

So, I was already crying before I met the first superhero to really touch my heart and soul. I was already emotional before I saw all my personality traits and lifelong struggles – not to mention my taste in music and my fashion sense – embodied in one kickass female lead character in a Hollywood blockbuster. She’s got spunk and snark, she feels alive when she’s moving fast, she wears her heart on her sleeve…and people keep telling her to slow down and get her shit together, or she won’t be successful. They try to get her to forget/hide who she really is so she can fit into someone else’s ideal. Continue reading “The Captain Marvel Effect”

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Anatomy of an Identity Crisis

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I don’t look like this anymore, and it’s OK.

The story of how I developed an eating disorder isn’t all that compelling – unless you consider getting blindsided by an overthrown softball traveling about 70 miles per hour while running out to warm up the right fielder between innings of a Big Ten Conference game and having your jaw broken compelling.

That’s effectively how my varsity athletic career ended, in the spring of my freshman year at Northwestern. I wasn’t, by anyone’s estimation, a key player on the NU softball team (I was a darned good cheerleader!), and not being able to eat solid foods for four weeks, while being forced to pitch wearing what amounted to a football helmet didn’t increase my value. What it did was shave about 20 pounds off my robust 5-foot-9 frame.

So, since I went to school within walking distance – about six miles, which to me qualifies as such – from home, I still occasionally accompanied my mom to church (Trinity Lutheran in Evanston!) on Sundays. I grew up in that church as a blissfully ignorant three-sport athlete who ate whatever she wanted without ever paying attention to serving size, and when I showed up one morning late in the spring of 1997, a couple months after the jaw injury, a long-time member sized me up and said, “You look wonderful! You’ve really slimmed down!” Continue reading “Anatomy of an Identity Crisis”

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Abandon the Cubs? GTFO!!

I wasn’t going to say anything. But after having to read multiple recent articles in my old hometown Chicago Tribune discussing – in seriousness! – either the changing of loyalty from Cubs to Sox, or the out-and-out abandonment of Chicago Cubs fandom, in the wake of Joe Ricketts’, Addison Russell’s, Daniel Murphy’s and Aroldis Chapman’s (yes, we’re still talking about that, but it’s OK) collective D-baggery and the right-wing political leanings of the broadcast group connected to the new Cubs cable network…I couldn’t stay silent.

The last straw was Eric Zorn. I shouldn’t let this guy get to me, considering that he admits in his column that he blew off his hometown Detroit Tigers to become a Cubs fan when he moved to Chicago, which to me is a violation that costs you your Sports Fan Card to begin with. His article reminded me of all the times I got asked, since relocating to Philadelphia for work in 2002, why didn’t I become an Eagles or Phillies fan? It’s been a while since some a-hole threw that at me, but the idea of de-affiliating with my lifelong favorite team for ANY reason – geographic distance or off-the-field bullish*t – makes bile bubble up in my body.

ARE YOU F*CKING KIDDING ME?!?!? Continue reading “Abandon the Cubs? GTFO!!”