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Kelly@kelito
July 21, 2020

Her name is Kim. She’s my oldest sister and is 61 (6 years older than me). I never really knew her as she left the house when she was 14 because my father, who got the kids in the divorce in 1972, could not handle her. She later married at 16. I was the ring bearer. That much I remember.

In 2014, she had a stroke that left her paralyzed on her right side. This was due to a stint that was put in her to regulate menopause. It had a history of causing strokes. Recently, my mother found her on the floor with burns on her hand and she was flown to Kansas City (she lives in Omaha, somehow independently). She is in recovery from the burns and broken ribs in Kansas City.

I just got off the phone with her and I had a surreal moment. In June of 2000, my father, had a stroke in the stem of his brain. For the non-medical folks, a stroke is in fact heart disease which can be hereditary. The stroke left my father a vegetable, living on a machine. I felt the lesson wash over me ...

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Hello new followers, I hope I don’t disappoint you. I want this place to feel like home, where we can escape the Thunderdome and process the world. Where we can post dog pics and recipes and book recommendations. Where we support each other as we get sober, lose weight, embark on new business opportunities, creative endeavors, relationships and travels. I want this to be your oasis of sanity and laughter in an increasingly mad world. A creative outlet where you can share your spirit with us.

We might not have any control over the news cycle—but we can control our habits and attitude. It all starts with us. And hopefully a little piece of that will start here.

One foot in front of the other.

Starting to feel better and better. Made some butternut squash carrot ginger soup from scratch. It’s delicious. Also an Italian sausage, pepper, onion and mushroom frittata. Listened to Sam Harris interview Leo Babauta about the wisdom of uncertainty. Feel grateful and humbled and the black dog has moved on.

Sober October - Day 19 - The Black Dog

Yesterday I celebrated seven years of sobriety. It was a perfect day. I took two naps. Worked on Dumpster Fire with Maggie and Sam. Ate sushi and watched the Dodgers game 7 while live-chatting with the phetasy.com community. Friends reached out to congratulate me and catch up. I marveled at how calm and stable my life is currently. After decades of chaos, the fact that my life looks supremely boring and normal is undoubtedly the biggest miracle of sobriety. And there have been many.

But the day after an anniversary is always weird. It’s appropriate that it falls on a Monday this year because it feels like a Monday no matter what day it falls on. Yesterday I woke up filled with gratitude, humbled by how much I have in my life and feeling a sense of connection to the people in my life, God and the community we are building here. Joy. Optimism. Hope.

Today, the black dog scratches at the door. Depression sniffs around, looking for a place to get comfy. Nothing happened that I ...

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