The Best Dreams Happen When We're Awake

 For as far back into my childhood as I can remember, the only consistent thing I wanted to be when I grew up was Happy.  I've seen grade school projects that said Fire Fighter or Ballerina, but there was no actual substance behind it.  As I grew, I realized my aversion to blood was a good reason to avoid a medical career.  Although I wanted to follow in my Dad's creative footprints by working some type of construction, he wanted for me to grow up with a body not ravaged with aches and pains.  And later, when I fell in love with writing, I found that there was likely no way to make a living writing poetry... hell, all the good poets were dead.

I loved math (especially algebra), being creative, and could never really narrow my focus in on one profession.  So, I went to college... make that 3 colleges... changed my major a dozen times and finally graduated with a Bachelor's of Science in Kinesiology after some 5+ years of study.  I wanted to be a collegiate strength coach... but it turned out I had more fun creating and editing lifting plans in a MS Excel workbook than I did on actually bossing the athletes around.  So I changed directions again.

Over the next 10 years, I worked as an administrative assistant, an office manager, worked in sales support, hospitality, sales, account management, retail... but the one consistent pattern I found time and time again was this innate satisfaction with improving procedures, modifying SOP's, and creating shortcuts to reduce workload.  I taught myself to create mail merges and inventory tracking; when a job required me to request every report or data summary I needed from another team, I asked them to teach me to pull my own raw data to save them the time;  when teammates complained about the time it took them to complete weekly analysis, I learned how to write macros to cut their time by 75%.  (I am a nerd, and I love it!)

It was sometime in 2015 that I remember telling a coworker that I wish there was a job where I could just problem solve in data and create tools for a living.  But, what would I call that?  How would I quantify it in a job search?  In January 2018, I landed myself a role as an Inventory Analyst for Target headquarters after hearing amazing things about what a great employer they were and hoped maybe I'd find my forever home there.  It only took a couple months until I found it... there was a team who's full time job was to create tools to reduce workload, improve data accuracy, supply analytical reporting... and they got paid to do it!

For almost three years, I have held that dream of someday being on that team close to my heart and confidently on my lips to anyone who'd listen.  I created tools and analysis for myself and others, I started my own club of Excel nerds just like me to help develop new processes and tools to help our entire pyramid.  Every morning in my Start Today journal, I've declared that 10 years from now I would be on that team.  Every. Damn. Morning.

Then, in August of this year, 5 months into the pandemic, a job opening was posted and I applied within hours.  Five gruelingly painful weeks went by without a word on if I was a candidate until finally a representative from HR contacted me to schedule my interviews.  After my three interviews, another 2+ weeks went by without a word until I finally saw a message come across my screen one morning from the hiring manager, "Hi. Are you free to talk?".  The second I hit send on "Yes", the Zoom call came in and my heart raced.  Barely breathing, I heard him thanking me for my patience, for participating in the interviews and all I thought was "fuck, I didn't get it".

That is, until he changed his tone and said "we'd like to offer you the job" and smiled.  I distinctively remember (and immediately regretted) responding with "Shut up! Are you serious?" *Not one of my finer moments, but also very authentically me none the less*  Luckily, he laughed and doubled down on his conviction and I said "Yes!" with almost as much enthusiasm as I did when Jay proposed.  The rest of the call was a blur but there it was... my dream job, wrapped up in a bow, and presented virtually on a silver platter. 

Yesterday marked the beginning of Week 3 in my new role... a beginner, learning to code and to take my problem solving and analytics to a level I never imagined.  Each day is new and filled with things I don't understand yet which allows fear to creep into my home office but I fight it every day by focusing on the present moment. I focus on the jobs I was turned down for that would have directed me away from here.  I remind myself to believe in myself because my whole team already believes in me just the way I am.

What a year...40 years old and finally landing the dream job I always wanted but never knew it existed until recently.  Starting fresh, stepping into the unknown, and feeling ever so grateful for the wonderful opportunity to work in something I am so passionate about.  It may not be a popular opinion, but it's another spectacular gift of 2020.

Dreaming in Code, 

Kristy Kreme

So I cleansed my liver for this?

 Over the last 7 months, I've accumulated a stack of post-it notes with blog content ideas that did nothing but collect dust.  Like you, I've struggled at times to make sense of my thoughts, my emotions, my fucked up dreams let alone figure out what day it is.  I change my clothes 3-4 times a day as I work from home.. day time jammies, mid-day workout attire, something I call "this could almost pass as street clothes" outfit before Jay comes home, and then straight back to my nighttime jammies after dinner. 

However, as October has snuck back into our lives, so has my social feed filled with #SoberOctober posts that has really had me reflecting on the last year of my life and my choices.

Last fall, I set out to participate in #SoberOctober for the first time.  For the most part, I was testing my hypothesis that alcohol was contributing to a growing depression within me.  I made it some 20+ days, throwing in the towel at our annual Homey Fall Fun Fest towards the end of the month.  Navigating the day, riding our single speed mountain bikes in costume on urban trails around town was somehow too clear w/ NA beer so I talked my husband into picking me up a six pack of beer on this way to meet us after his race.  I struggled with the attention 'not drinking' brought me and I just wanted to let loose like everyone else.  I stayed off the wagon for the rest of October and through November, but the experience on the ground was so much different than before.

The sparkle and luster of drinking had faded.  That soft vignette of drinking wine by candlelight exposed itself as a dingy dark space filled with loneliness.  I had seen the other side... the clear headed mornings, the anxious energy subsiding, the depression fading... it all made the once celebratory drinking now dull and sad. I wanted to take back the light in my life.  

I chose sobriety on December 1st, 2019.

I made it through the holidays, through the loss of my mother in law, through flying and vacation, remodeling and selling our condo after 13+ years, buying a home; living amidst the social injustice, riots and looting in Minneapolis; turning 40 and, somehow, though the pandemic and physical isolation that comes with it.  Sure, I would give anything to just go numb on some days but, where the general consensus indicates alcohol use and abuse it up almost unanimously, I imagine each day is adding to my super power.  For every shitty week I've had, the fear of what's to come, every bottle of anti-bacterial solution I empty out into my palms, and every milestone that quietly passes... for every one I collect the day's strength (even if while found on my knees and with tears in my eyes), and I add it to my armor and head off to bed. 

Last weekend, my sober calendar hit 300 days.  I only told two people that it was here but I wore that badge on my heart like a beacon of light.  Counting the days gives me a sense of pride I celebrate silently within myself and, if I am honest, at times use as a reason to reward myself with something new I wouldn't have done for myself before.  Helloooo, online shopping!

But it's also an odd reminder that, for the first time in my life, I am struggling with my identity.  Am I sober or alcohol-free?  Am I 'in recovery' even if I don't attend meetings and never wound up in rehab?  All I know is that I am happy and I can see parts of myself in each description and each book on sobriety I read.  I fill my ears with podcasts and my time with adventures big and small...

I ride. I sew masks. We bought our first house.. so I decorate and tidy and vacuum and move things.  I read. I bake and I bake and I bake. I eat raw cookie dough. I ride some more.  Digital coupon-cutting on the Target Circle app is a competitive sport for me!  I paint rooms and hallways.  I do HIIT workouts.  I have mastered a caulking gun.  I fixed the toilet.  I coach.  I am growing plants and tell them how loved they are.  I ride some more.  I jump my bike off things (little things, but I am getting air!).  I volunteer with the trail crew. I smell the flowers.  I cook.  But most importantly, I smile more.  

Day One of Sober October 2019...

306 Days Sober... <3

If you've been wondering if alcohol is having a negative impact on your life, if the constant unknown of the pandemic or the pending election has you overindulging, I recommend giving #SoberOctober a try.  What was intended to be a 'just for now' choice really truly made me find a new door into a better life for me.  If you have no sober network, I am here for you.  If you DO have a sober network, I am here for you!  Because the sober people in my life helped me and I am there for those of you who need it. 

Now, I only hope I've enforced my armor enough to make it through the next 30+ days and the election...but that's a fear for another day.

Feeling strong in my sobriety, 

Kristy Kreme

Social Distancing: How Sobriety prepared me for this

When I first got sober in 2003, Social Distancing had an entirely different meaning.  I was a 23 year old trying to find herself in a world she didn't understand, in skin she didn't love, trying to find a voice that wasn't just a whisper.  When I got sober, I cut everyone out... my friends, my bookclub, my coworkers at happy hour.  I didn't know how to continue my life the way it was without booze, so I just stopped doing everything.  It was miserable.  Each night at home was painstakingly long and agonizing, each weekend dull.  That was then...

But not this time.

Day One of the "work from home" mandate from work due to the Coronavirus Pandemic was also Day 108 of my new life without alcohol.  Although this first week of what people are softly calling a 'new normal' was awkward and confusing, it was welcomed with an open mind thanks to so much that I have already learned in my sobriety.

Some lessons are light and silly, like how I all of a sudden LOVE to wash the dishes and tidy up my kitchen.  ???  What the....?  Not sure why, but I do dishes almost every day and it brings me joy!
Reorganizing our condo feels like I'm nesting all over again.
Buying my first placemats for our new kitchen island was amazing and makes me smile!
Filling a candy jar of chocolates when it gets low feels like a mini expression of love.
Chatting with friends has held so much more meaning because I remember it all.


But the three most impactful lessons that fill my soul are these:


1.  Quitting drinking saved me from killing myself

I quit drinking after years of battling depression, anxiety, and a painfully diminished self-worth.  I was ashamed at myself for drinking two bottles of wine on the couch on a work night, only to hate the shit out of myself the next day until the time it meant I could return to the liquor store for more.  Had I walked into this uncertain time of a global pandemic, economic distress, social distancing, and spending more time alone than I think I ever have, I think I could have easily drank myself to death or at least to a much darker place.  I can only imagine how much Social Distancing would have compounded my anxiety and depression that was fueled by alcohol and by pairing that with less contact with people forcing me to buck up and be normal... I truly would have found the bottom everyone expects Sober people to have hit.

2. Self-care is extremely important
I have filled my hands with the inspiring words of Annie Grace, Holly Whitaker, Sarah Hepola, and Laura McKowen as I have waded through these early days of sobriety.  One majorly recurring theme has been Self-care and going easy on yourself as you grow and develop as a sober person.  It was the first lesson I anchored too and the one I held tightest to my heart.  Exercise, sleeping in, painting my nails, taking a nap, reading, journalling, cooking, not cooking, staying home, getting out.... I've paid close attention to what my heart has said it has needed and followed it's recommendations closely.  It has brought me to a better place of really knowing myself and what I need in a given moment, whether it be stress at work, tension at home, the anxiety of the unknown.

It is something we ALL need at this time.  We need the focus to actually listen to ourselves and this social distancing gives us the space and time to take action on it.  All you have to do is make the choice to do what you need for yourself.  Bust out the nice glasses with dinner, use the good napkins, eat dessert, stretch your aching muscles, draw/sew/paint/create, pick up an old hobby again... just do something that is JUST FOR YOU!  And next time your mind or your heart asks you to do something for yourself again.... DO IT!  Find time every day to make yourself a priority because if you don't, you'll run yourself empty and it'll be impossible to keep caring for everyone else.

3. The Joy of Silence
When I was drinking, almost every hour of every day was filled with the constant barrage of self-hate and disappointment echoing within the confines of my mind.  It was loud and disgusting, it was so violent I could feel it in my bones.  And when I wasn't admonishing myself, I was planning out my next drink... Which liquor store should I go to next so they don't think I have a problem? What flavor should I buy?  Can I start drinking now?  How much did I drink last night? Did we have a fight?  What happened last night?

Within 48 hours of quitting, the screaming ended.  Just. Like. That.  And where the shouting had been was filled with nothing but pure, undeniable Silence.  And peace.  There was absolutely nothing but the quiet breathing of Jay and Rosco when I woke in the morning for work, the sound of my foot pads walking through the condo in the dark, my slow breaths as I laid down at night.  Not a whisper, not a single thing remained and it was so weird at first.  For the first week I was doubtful, like I was waiting for my abuser to return but it didn't... because I didn't pick up another drink.

This quickly has become the best part of sobriety:  Silence.  Time alone is no longer filled with anxiety and disappointment.  It has been replaced with the space to allow my mind to wonder, daydream, and explore.  With the new addition of working from home and nearly eliminating my social life outside of the home, it prepared me for this time with myself.  I've had now 112 days to practice being in peaceful silence with myself and find ways to simply enjoy the time, explore something new like learning coding, trying new workouts, and reorganizing my home.

Even if you are not sober, I hope you can find ways to fill your new time away from friends and family to take care of yourself and find that inner peace.  Hopefully we all can so that we can come out of this with a new perspective on how to care for ourselves and of what truly is important and valued in life.

May you find a way to make the most of every day.  Me, I'll be working on making my past self jealous!

Wishing you peace and good health,
Kristy Kreme

Hurts, Don't it?

I'm still in disbelief how quickly planning a trip to see Jay's Mom turned into planning a funeral.  In a matter of days, it went from 'let's celebrate Valentine's early by getting a nice hotel room and visiting your mom' to 'the Hospice staff says your mom isn't expected to make it through the weekend'.  We got a sitter for Rosco, packed up the car, and headed South at 5:00am to meet his brother John in their hometown and head straight to Dot's side.

We met John at Hurts Donut to pull ourselves out of a travel-fog with coffee and glazed, sprinkled goodness.  Our hugs were amplified and laughter light until the gravity of the day ahead weighed in.  It wasn't until the end of the weekend that the real truth to the name settled on my heart... Hurts, Donut?

Seeing Dot was a shock to the system and my heart broke instantly.  Sitting at her bedside, I sat willing her eyes to open and to hear her voice if not for my sake, but for the boys'.  As the pain rolled in like waves, I was also washed with the gratitude of making it on time to be by her side, knowing there was no where else in the world we needed to be other than right here in this moment.  We stayed throughout the day, leaving only to grab dinner and return so Jay could stay with her through the night.  John and I returned to our hotel rooms for some much needed sleep but the phone rang at 1:15, pulling me from slumber with the sound of Jay crying on the other end of the phone, telling me she had passed on.

I woke John and we returned to Dot's room to say our final goodbyes and comfort Jay in the dark room.  It was all quiet and still... it was grief and sadness, slow moving time that seemed as if the seconds barely ticked by at all as we waited for someone from Hospice to arrive.  Waves of sadness crashed against us while moments of fond memories hit us in the face like mist against the rocks.

It was somewhere in the silence of the morning that gratitude overcame me again.. this time for my own sobriety.  It was in these moments I was so grateful to be sober, that my 'need to drink' didn't come before Jay and John's pain, their grief, or take away their focus on Dot.  It allowed me to be pulled from sleep in the middle of the night and be there for my husband, to be 100% present in the here and now.

In the first couple weeks of sobriety I had wondered how I would deal with loss, feared that it would be an instant path back to a bottle of wine, but it didn't.  It was like a passage out of the poem "The Invitation" by Oriah Mountain Dreamer:

I want to know
if you can sit with pain
mine or your own
without moving to hide it
or fade it
or fix it.

So I sat with my pain and thought of Dot...

She welcomed me the first time I met her.  I never felt like I needed a filter with her, but learned quickly how to think fast and respond openly when her Catholic and my Agnostic worlds didn't align.  I will forever giggle about when she dug out her 1980's 'etiquette' book when Jay and I were planning our wedding, filled with outdated societal norms my feminist self couldn't stomach.  


She taught me the joy of shopping at Von Maur.  Dot reminded me of the simple pleasure of a tasty, hardshell taco.  She raised an amazing man that I love and cherish, who cherishes and respects me.
And I hold dearly to the sound of her saying "I love you" as we parted during our last visit.  It's warming to think that Dot and Bob are reunited for Valentine's this year.

Grateful I got to say "I love you" one last time..
Kristy Kreme