Howling Dog Saloon, Luverne, MN

Have you ever walked into a place a felt that you were meant to be there? Like, the moment you walked in, you were being called to a certain spot to sit down and that the people there were smiling and nodding at you as if you were “home”? Well, my husband and I had the pleasure of walking into a place just like that a few days ago and I haven’t been able to stop thinking about it since.

The Howling Dog Saloon in Luverne, MN is OFF THE CHARTS, my friends! From the word go, I knew this place was gonna’ be good. Sam and I have been wanting to try them out for quite some time and got the opportunity on Tuesday, May 23rd. We had some pretty important errands to tend to in Luverne and got them all taken care of. Some were fruitful and some were frustrating. By the end of running errands, Sam and I had built up and all-star appetite! Due to financial constraints, even though we were VERY hungry, we planned on going home and fixing ourselves something to eat there. That’s when I saw “IT”. The HOWLING DOG SALOON! Just sitting innocently at 909 S Kniss Ave. I made a split decision and we pulled in. We were tired… worn out, actually, and it was a 20 minute drive home. We were HUNGRY! By the time we drove home and put the effort into fixing something to eat, I would have been to tired to eat it! So I felt it would be well worth the money to pay to have food perpared and served to us. I had no idea what we were in for! From the moment we walked in, our experience was AMAZEBALLS!

Howling Dog Saloon is a classic bar and grill restaurant. It has a wrap around bar with high and low tables for seating. Then there is a drop down seating area that has 3 or 4 pool tables for patrons to enjoy. I believe I saw a few dart boards as well but I could be wrong. I hesitate to label the women who were working there as servers because they were more like trusted friends One of them smiled and came to take our drink order but it was so much more than that and more than I can describe in words here. Sam ordered a Pepsi and I a Sprite and water. When it came time to order Sam had the deluxe burger and I asked for the pork tenderloin sandwich. I forgot to ask for the combo basket as an appetizer so I ran up to our server “friend” and asked her to type that in as she was ringing in our meals. She even guided me on what was best for our four choices on the combo basket… tater tots, cheese curds, corn balls and brocolli cheese bites! Choices fit for royalty, AND ANGIOPLASTY! But Boy, Howdy, was it ever tasty! And dipped heavily in ranch dressing, my taste buds were in heaven. I couldn’t sit still. I was doing the happy dance right there in my high seated bar stool!! And then our meals came… I was already satisfied after the appetizer and still had to eat my pork tenderloin sandwich. Needless to say, I didn’t finish the sandwich, but it was definitely delicious! Sam’s burger was super fantastic as well.

I would be remiss if I didn’t mention the jukebox. It was a TouchTunes jukebox. It’s interactive with an app on your phone and you can play a “butt load” (that’s a technical term, by the way) of music and never leave the comfort of your seat. Can you tell I LOVED IT! I played Jimmy Buffet, Queen, The Beatles and our song (Journey “Faithfully”) Hey, what can I say, we are 80’s kids (well, I’m an 80’s kid. Sam is more of a 70’s kid and an 80’s kid/adult, but I digress) Playing the music on the jukebox made the place magical for us. The atmosphere, the staff, the food, it was the TRIFECTA! Sam and I had no idea that when we hastily pulled in an hour earlier this place would have such a profound impact on us.

What does this have to do with alcoholism or mental heath, you may be asking? A LOT, actually. In AA, we have a BIG warning acronym to look out for. It is H.A.L.T. It means Hungy Angry Lonely Tired. Both Sam and I had three of the four of those going on BIG TIME when we pulled in to the Howling Dog Saloon parking lot. We were both Hungry, Angry and very Tired. As I had mentioned, some of our errands had ended with frustration and we had been running around literally all day long. An argument can be made for me being lonely as well. Even though I was with the “love monkey of my soul”, I was lonely for my Higher Power. I was not feeling very close to God at the moment was pulled into the parking lot. I was so overwhelmed with all of the information I had received from the places we had been, I was processing a “butt ton” (another technical term, and yes, butt ton is MORE than butt load!) of information. Some was good, some was not so good. For some odd reason, I did not feel like I was processing the information with God at the center of everything. So for me, anyway, I had the entire H.A.L.T. thing going on. This acronym can be used in the mental health realm as well. When these four things are present at the same time, you MUST take action to satisfy them or you are heading for a mighty crash! But after walking into the Howling Dog Saloon, H.A.L.T. was washed away pretty quickly. Hungry was taken care of with the yummy food. Angry was taken care of by the amazing staff, friendly patrons, fun jukebox and overall atmosphere (Sam promised me a round of pool next time; he didn’t wanna get beat this time and we were both just too tired anyway) Lonely was taken down because once my mind cleared, my heart opened back up and of course God was right there where I had left Him! Tired was taken care of (briefly) with the burst of energy and excitement Sam and I both felt and discovering such and diamond in the rough. Of course as soon as we got home we both laid down and took a quick nap. What could have been a disastrous event if we would have driven home and tried to handle things on our own, turned into a wonderful experience and allowed us to find a new “favorite spot”.

So, there you have it, my dear friends. I used to say, “My dogs are howlin’!” when I was a server at TGI Fridays and I worked a double shift. Now I get to look foward to going back to my new “favorite spot”, the Howling Dog Saloon at 909 S Kniss Ave in Luverne, MN. Stop by and see them. I bet the magic happens for you as well! Be sure to play the jukebox! It ROCKS! Here is their Facebook page link: https://www.facebook.com/people/Howling-Dog-Saloon/100057365652796/

WHAT A LIFE!

~me

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Is It ODD, Or Is It GOD?!?

Today I had to have a minimally invasive medical procedure, called an Angiogram, performed on my heart. To say that I was a bit nervous was the understatement of the year! I was in FULL BLOWN PANIC ATTACK MODE! My cariologist, Dr. Stys, had prepared me to expect a probable Angioplasty (where they deploy a balloon during the procedure to “push” the plaque from the center of the arteries back toward the walls of the arteries) or even a couple of stents that may have needed to be put in place. Given the symptoms I was having; shortness of breath, lightheadedness and dizziness when I would stand up fast or just when doing light work or exercising, we expected at least a few stents…BUT THAT DID NOT HAPPEN!

I have been in a near constant state of severe anxiety ever since last Tuesday when my doctor told me about this procedure in the first place. I have TRIED to give it to my Higher Power! I have tried praying the 3rd step prayer. I DID ask many people, many groups of people to pray for me, and that was certainly not typical of me. I usually stuff my own issues down deep inside and pretend I’m doing FINE! (F’d up, Insecure, Neurotic, Emotional) I didn’t do that this time. I humbled myself and asked for help. AND BOY HOWDY, IT WORKED! There is NO OTHER EXPLAINATION for why no balloon or stents had to be used this morning. The plaque screening I had done in January showed that I was in the 94th percentile for my age group for plaque build up in the arteries of my heart…the 94th percentile, folks!!! Not to mention, I have lived in this body. I am FULLY aware of what I have put into it in the past 52 years. Okay, maybe not the entire 52 years. My Mom and Dad were responsible for chooisg the food I ate for 1st 15 years or so. Anyway, between the poor food choices I have made and the VERY POOR choices I made dumping all the booze and pills down my throat for the past 30-some-odd years, there is NO WAY medical intervention would not have been needed, other than with DIVINE INTERVENTION. Of this, I am certain.

And so, I ask you…. IS IT ODD OR IS IT GOD? I submit to you that through the power of prayer, God saw fit to heal my heart and ensure that no medical intervention was needed this morning. I asked others to pray for me. Others DID pray for me. Now I am at home and feel wonderful. Is it just a coincidence that I had the procedure this morning, where essentially NOTHING was done except for a camera being snaked into my heart to look around and that a bunch of people prayed for me and now I feel great? Well, I suppose that’s possible. But, I don’t believe in coincidences. I believe that a coincidence is just A MIRACLE in which GOD chooses to remain ANNONYMOUS!

So, there you have it, folks. I survived an Angiogram. And my anxiety has been quelled to a low roar…it’s never gone, it’s always a monkey on my back, but I will adapt, improvise and overcome like always. If you have this procedure coming up, don’t fret. It’s a cake walk. (I can say that now that I’ve been through it. The past week was a living hell!!!) As for me, I think I’m going to take a nap…for a week, seeing as how I didn’t really sleep for a week!!

Talk about everything, drink about NOTHING!!

WHAT A LIFE!

~ME

Oh, the Places You’ll Go…

(This is a repost. I have been speaking at the treatment center I went to and I end by reading this book. The folks seem to really appreciate it. I almost have it memorized at this point! I have read it MANY times in the past 8 months!! I pray that it helps you as much as it helps me!)

✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨

This Dr. Seuss book is one of my favorite books of all time. I have given it as a graduation gift to kindergarten, 8th grade, high school, college and even law school. But none have been as profound as when I have given this book to someone who is starting their journey in recovery.

“You’ll look up and down streets. Look ’em over with care. About some you will say, “I don’t choose to go there.” Change your playground. How many times do we hear that?

“And when you’re in a Slump, you’re not in for much fun. Un-slumping yourself is not easily done.” One day at a time. That’s all we can handle.

“I’m afraid that sometimes you’ll play lonely games too. Games you can’t win ’cause you’ll play against YOU.” When we allow ourselves to spend time in our own head, the disease of addiction WILL play horrible, scary games with us.

“On and on you will hike. And I know you’ll hike far, and face up to your problems, whatever they are.” No matter how far we need to go to get our butt in a chair at a meeting, we do it. Meeting makers make it! That’s a fact.

“And will you succeed? Yes! You will, indeed! (98 3/4 percent guaranteed.)” By doing “the next right thing” on a “one day at a time” basis, you WILL succeed.

Oh, the Places You’ll Go. Mental Illness, addiction, whatever ailment it may be. This book is so simple, truthful and uplifting. I read it often. It helps keep me grounded. Try it, you might like it.

WHAT A LIFE.

~Me

Coming Out of the Dark….Again!

And, the journey begins AGAIN! I took quite a hiatus from posting an entry here. And as you can probably tell from the title, it hasn’t been a great time.

While I DID NOT go back to chugging vodka straight from the bottle, I DID decide to drink “just beer”. When I started drinking “just beer”, of course I chose the cheapest and highest alcohol content beer I could find. Natural Ice was fully leaded, as I like to call it. At first, three beers would give me a decent buzzed feeling. Five beers would have me very buzzed. But, of course, within a few weeks my tolerance built up and I had to drink “MORE”.

I relapsed before the pandemic hit, however, when the pandemic hit, my drinking became MUCH worse. My hubby was an over-the-road trucker, so I was home alone…well, I did have my two dogs to keep me company, and we live in a country town of 686 people. So, you can imagine how isolated I was! I drank my beer from the time I woke up until I fell asleep at night.

Of course, I stopped taking ALL of my psych meds while drinking, so I was a hot mess times infinity. Both of my demons, mental and alcoholic, were working overtime! I was in such a tailspin, not even the most gifted of pilots could have recovered and straightened out my plane!

I will go into more detail in future posts. For now, I just want to say….. I MADE IT BACK!

By the grace of God and the amazing support and encouragement of my hubby and his family (my family didn’t know I was drinking again) I made it back! It was a long, treacherous, scary road, but God saw me through it, even if I didn’t really ask Him to!

For now, I choose to simply do the next right thing!!

What a life!

See ya’ soon,

ME

The Dark Side, Part 2

Okay, so my last post was about my relapse and the “cookies” over on the Dark Side. I got pretty emotional while trying to explain what happened when I put the plug in the jug AGAIN.

What happened was….TERROR. Paralyzing fear. A relentless feeling of hopelessness. In all of my years of drinking and swearing off drinking, binging and quitting, I have never experienced such a deep sense of absolute DOOM. I laid on my couch for 3 straight days, unable to form complete sentences, unable to think rational thoughts. I couldn’t even say the Serenity prayer. I honestly believe I was on the verge of having a wet brain. Physically I was so weak that my husband had to help me stand so I could use the bathroom. On the 4th day, I was able to eat 3 or 4 bites of toast with a bit of butter soaked in milk. That 4th day is when the reality of my situation started to hit me.

Could I recover from this? Was I going to die? If I didn’t die, did I do irreversible brain damage? Did I want to live? Did I want to recover? Incomplete thoughts would shoot through me at the speed of light. I couldn’t slow them down. I couldn’t rest. Sleep was impossible. I remember saying “God, please help me. Thanks. Amen.” That was the longest string of words I could manage.

Then the mental illness demons decided to tap dance on my already mushy mind. Anxiety sucker punched me. PTSD gifted me with flashbacks from numerous past events, so real even the smell and taste senses were present. Bipolar must have thought it was time to play King of the Mountain, because it came in and knocked everyone else down the hill. I was Sybil in rare form!

I am so thankful that I had a strong support system in AA that helped me find my way back. I had to have my butt in a chair daily for quite some time. Even 6 months later I am battling the mental health demons, though not nearly as bad as in November. Here’s a little bit of what I’ve learned or needed a refresher course on:

  • The Dark Side sucks ass!
  • They LIED about the cookies!
  •  An ex-booze hound should NOT drink booze.
  • Booze and psych meds DO NOT MIX!!
  • Mental illness and addiction is a wicked combination.WHAT A LIFE!
  • ~Me
  • And finally…Staying sober is WAY, WAY easier than GETTING sober!!! I am so blessed to have been given the opportunity to get and stay sober AGAIN.

The Dark Side, Part I

So, here I sit, back in the “sunlight of the Spirit”…sort of. Let’s just say I am “cautiously optimistic”. This last visit to the Dark Side still has me scarred, scared, befuddled, baffled and then some.

And for those of you in recovery that might be in a bad spot and be tempted to the Dark Side….take it from me…THE COOKIES SUCK ASS!!! Oh, sure at first they will serve them up nice and fresh, warm from the oven with a tall, ice cold glass of milk. MMMmmmm. Then, they downgrade just a little. Cookies not as fresh and milk not as cold. Then the cookies aren’t even homemade and they skimp on the milk. Before I knew it, I was getting sugar-free STALE cookies that left an after taste and NO milk. Sound familiar? The point is, the Dark Side lies. My addiction LIES. I turned back to the booze because my disease told me nothing else would make me feel better. I gave up. Used the booze to self-medicate. Instant gratification. Did it work? You bet your sweet ass it worked. A couple of times. But then, it didn’t. Just like the cookies. And what I was left with was 100 times worse than where I started…

  • 3 ½ years of sobriety gone
  • Loss of loved ones trust
  • Bipolar in full swing
  • Despair
  • Doubt
  • Fear
  • Anxiety x 100
  • Compromised physical health

Just to name a few. I went to the Dark Side alright. And it damn near killed me. I went to treatment from the end of September to the end of October. Still had a few drinks in me though. Finally got my act together on November 20th. I pray that I never forget the first two weeks without booze. No drama here…I was near death. Could hardly stand, barely swallow to sip water or eat “milk toast”. And my brain….putty. For 3 days I just layed on the couch and “existed”. It was a literal hell. I was stuck in my own skin, my mind would race through a million thoughts but I couldn’t catch one. I’m getting anxious just writing about it.

Glad to be back. More later.

WHAT A LIFE.

~ME

Back in the Saddle…

Just call me Rip Van winkle, I guess. My last post was on September 9, 2014. Let’s just say I went over to the “dark side” for a while. It wasn’t fun and I am very BLESSED to be back…and ALIVE.

Not much to share about the “Dark Side”. Let’s just say it was immensely, terrifyingly, desolately, painfully DARK. The addict in me wanted to stay there and wallow, self-medicating with booze. The mental illness demons fed off the relapse and helped keep me there. What a tail spin! It is truly by the grace of God that I sitting here typing today. I’ll share more on this later.

To bring everyone up to speed:

My awesome hubby is doing great. He’s still a “Steel Cowboy” (Semi truck driver) and works for a kick-ass company that takes real good care of the drivers. I miss him something fierce when he is on the road during the week but we are grateful he has a dedicated route so we know where he’s going most of the time and that he is home every week end.

The grub snatchers are doing well. Four girls…yes, that’s right…four girls. Three from me, one from hubby. So, we have a 20, 17, 11 and 8 year old. Hope to be getting an updated family picture while we are all together this summer. The last one I have is from Christmas, 2013.

I am missing my family in North Carolina A LOT! Found out that my Mom has lung cancer. She is undergoing chemotherapy and radiation now and I would really like to be there. I hope to make it home for a short visit near the end of summer. Hubby and I can hit his family in Detroit and the coast of NC for a few days and then head back to Minnesota. I gotta get these toes in the ocean soon!

If I don’t publish this now I’ll chicken out, like I have countless times in the past few months. Not sure why….just lost my MOJO. Small steps are still walking, and I’ve gotta’ take that first baby step to get going again, so this is it.

WHAT A LIFE!

~ME

Meh…..just Meh.

That about sums up the week. I’ve just been “meh”. The demons have been damn busy this week. And I can tell y’all why. Because I wasn’t doing nary a thing to keep them shackled, that’s why! I was in that horrible place, you know the one…sitting in my shit, and it stunk and wasn’t comfortable but because it was “MY” shit, it was at least familiar. Everything else had become so unfamiliar and scary, I simply chose to keep sitting in my stinky and uncomfortable shit. True insanity that makes so much sense. Wait….What?!

This insane, sensible inactive activity went on for about 3 days before it became unbearable enough for me to do something about it. Booze demon screaming “drink the vodka, you’ll sleep better!”, Bipolar demon shouting “quit taking the meds, you’ll sleep better”, and the anxiety demon screeches “don’t leave the house because bad things will happen if you do.”

I showered the stinky poop of myself and went to a meeting on Friday. And while I can not honestly proclaim that my world instantly become all rainbows and unicorns, I can say I instantly started to feel better. Why does it have to get so bad before I take action? Sometimes, it doesn’t. Sometimes I stay on top of things and it goes good for a long period of time. But I know what to do when it starts getting bad, and yet, I do the opposite. And that just blows my mind.

Meeting makers make it. I know this to be true. With how volatile my mental health and sleep patterns are right now, I need lotsa’ meetings. DUH! So grateful for this recovery life, where I can be “meh…just meh” or can choose to break that old behavior and actually have a great days.

WHAT A LIFE!

~Me

 

 

Happy Wife, Happy Life.

sam

My hubby has been amazing through this whole rollercoaster of emotion and depression. He has been a pillar of strength for me.

“Practice these principles in all our affairs” is something I most definitely have NOT been doing, and hubby gets the brunt of it. I am ashamed to say, I have been treating him like shit. I have been taught that if you want to see how strong someone’s program is, ask their family. I would fall short if you did that.

Hubby is 13 years sober. He stays out of my program, for the most part. He will gently nudge me and suggest that I “phone a friend”, or go to a meeting, but he does this in such a loving, caring way that I can’t be mad about it. And when he does it, I know he is right. I may bitch about it, but I do it because if he is saying it, I am pretty bad off.

He loves, supports and encourages me in every aspect of my life. With the weight gain, he tells me I am beautiful more often. With the depression, he tells me how much he loves me and cherishes me on a daily basis. With the anxiety, he talks me down and reminds me to breathe slow and deep. And I have just been snapping at him. A few days ago, I yelled because he didn’t put a roll of toilet paper on the TP holder. I’m such a bitch. Hubby knows how insecure I am right now so every time I call him, he answers the phone, “Hello, gorgeous.”.

This man has been with me for 4 years. He has seen me at my best and at my worst. He has witnessed full Bipolar manic episodes that lasted 2 weeks and the crash into sever depression that follow. He has seen how PTSD flashbacks can ambush me and how my severe anxiety can ruin an evening out. Yet, he’s still here. Still by my side. Hell, he even wanted to marry me after seeing all that crap! Maybe I should be questioning his sanity!

I have hubby on my gratitude list, but I have realized through last night’s Step 10, instead of being grateful for him, I am taking him for granted. I need to make amends for the way I have been treating him. Yes, I am depressed and a bit whack-a-doo with the hormone thingy. But that does not give the right to treat my husband, or anyone for that matter, the way I have been. No one is my personal punching bag. Just because he is allowing it to happen doesn’t make it right.

My hubby deserves a happy wife and a happy life. Slowly but surely I am coming back from the depths of this depression. I can feel the hormone replacement therapy working. Which is great, because I know hubby has been jonesing for a Nurf gun fight and I haven’t been in the mood. He may just get ambushed.

WHAT A LIFE!

~Me

But Weight, There’s More…

scale

I had to go to my primary care doc because I pulled a muscle in my back and touched off a bad spasm. None too happy about being in the doc’s office to begin with and then I have to stand on the scale. grrrrr. I weighed in at a whopping 202 pounds. WHAT? I had to look back and make sure the nurse didn’t have her foot on the scale as a joke. Nope. It was ALL me! WHAT?

I haven’t weighed that much since before my liver failure in 2008. I stand 5 feet, no inches tall (or short) so you can imagine what 202 pounds looks like on that frame. Dumpy. Frumpy. Fatty. Ugh. I have gained 35 pounds in 3 months. Is there a medal for that or something?

I know that I have been depressed. I know that I have used food for comfort. But 35 pounds?! That’s just ludicrous. The demons came on fast and strong. I almost completely forgot about the pain in my back. My skull started vibrating, the voices were so loud.

  • “You’re huge.”
  • “You’re worthless.”
  • “Just eat and the puke.”
  • “Hubby doesn’t love you anymore. How could he possibly find you’re fat ass attractive?”
  • “Start drinking again. You never eat when you’re drinking.”
  • “Stop taking you’re meds. They make you gain weight.”

The scary thing was, I was listening to the voices and they were sounding like the voice of reason. Damn those demons. Once doc came into the room and checked me over for the back spasm, I brought up the weight gain. He was shocked. Told me that he found it very hard to believe that I weighed 202 lbs. That made me feel better. We discussed strategy on weight loss, but he made me promise not to try anything until after September 10th when I am cleared from the hysterectomy and now my back. I have to have physical therapy 3 times a week. grrrrr.

The demon voices were still making my skull vibrate. I felt like a total failure. How could I have allowed myself to get to that weight? I felt lazy. I felt ashamed. I guilty. I knew that I had been using food for comfort but I had no idea it had gotten to this point. My mind was racing. 100 thoughts going through and I couldn’t grab onto 1 and focus. Diet…which one…swim…how long…can’t swim yet…not cleared for exercise…binge and purge…bad for me…no carbs…unrealistic. STOP!! “God, please help me. Thanks. Amen.”

It wasn’t instant, but it was quick. I began to calm down. I said my version of the AA ABC’s. I can’t, He can, I’m gonna’ let Him. I felt better. I am powerless. Not just over booze. I’m putting food on the ever growing list. My life is unmanageable. God can restore me to sanity. (so I’ve been told) Nah, I know this to be true. I just have to get out of the way. Quit obsessing over something I have no control over at this very moment. In a few weeks, I can do something about it, but not right now. So I can choose to stew and sit in my poop or I can surrender and give it to God to handle. I choose the latter. At least for now. I may forget and start stewing again. But that’s the grace and mercy of this program. If I take the crap back, God is always willing when I am ready to give it back to Him.

WHAT A LIFE!

~Me