I’m Kim Moore
To feel joy again, we have to be willing to receive it when it appears. And in order for that to happen, we have to be open.
Open up to joy
I was lucky enough to find the love of my life. Chris. My one in a million I used to call him. It was a whirlwind romance and I was swept off of my feet. A modern-day fairy tale. We married in July of 1999. Life was filled with endless romantic gestures, laughter and an abundance of love.
Life unfolded, as it always does. My son was born in 2002, then my daughter in 2006. Life had slowly started to change. I just hadn’t noticed. I was too busy being the glue that held our little family together. I had found hidden little vodka bottles here and there. I gently placed them in the open. That was how we dealt with the problem.
In 2009, life started crashing down. My love was a chronic alcoholic. And my own battle of denial raged on. I was all alone – in my head.
Let the walls down
Slowly over 20 years during the progression of Chris’ alcoholism, I built of walls of protection around me. These walls were needed at one time to feel safe, but they began to shut out joy and love. As part of my own recovery, I learned to bring down the walls, to let the light in, let people in, let good things in when they show up. Let the walls down.
Open up to joy
Whether your alcoholic is in your life every day, periodically, or they have passed away. Only you can decide how you feel. When Chris died, my life didn’t change. The numbness, the anger, the anxiety, the sadness. None of it stopped. For years I blamed his alcoholism for my unhappiness. Once he was gone, I could no longer hide behind that excuse. It’s up to me to choose happiness. Joy happens all around us. Open up to joy.
Interrupt the silence
When we start to talk, the fears, the walls, the insecurities, the shame, the guilt, the misconceptions about alcoholism, they all start to break down, piece by piece. Slowly, with every word, we fear less about hearing ourselves say the next one. Once we start to let it out, it becomes a bit easier, and we find our way back to who we are. Interrupt the silence.