One Day At A Time


Well, the depression is definately lifting, slowly but surely. I still want to hibernate, here, in my bed, and sleep my life away. But it seems that the meds are allowing me to attempt to do anything but. I'm not saying that I don't sleep most of my weekends away. At least the weekends when my little guy is with his Dad. But at least now I can at least "do" something with him on my weekends with him.

I doubt very much that he considers me an exciting Mom. Today, I am 7 years alcohol free. So considering I was drinking the first 2 years of his existence, at least we can say that I do remember most of his childhood. And most of it was either doing opiates, or even worse, trying to come off of them. Then the was the 4 years on Suboxone, when I was doing okay. Just not really really interested in too much child-raising.

Which brings me to my reason for posting today.

I thank God for my father. He took us in, when my second husband left us. I was planning on staying for 6 months, while I got my act (and head) together. That has never happened by the way, lol.

But here I still am. My, my kids, my Dad, and my fiancee.

My father is an enigma.

ENIGMA
Pronunciation: \i-ˈnig-mə, e-\
Function: noun
Definition: Strange/mysterious person; hard to explain/understand


My Dad is going to be 78 years old in a couple weeks. Throughout my Mom's illness and eventual death there were days when I knew for sure he would never live much past her death. He was the best husband a woman could ever hope for. She was spoiled....rotten perhaps.

He did all the grocery shopping, cooking, not to mention being her personal chauffer. My Mom didn't drive anywhere besides her job which was 2 miles from our home. And then there was her long-standing Thursday appointment at the salon to have her hair "done". Something that is foreign to most of us. She didn't drive on any highway or byway. Refused to drive anywhere that had to be reached by a bridge or had anything to do with an on/off ramp. I doubt she she even knew what exit we lived off of on NJGSP.

She never knew what it meant to walk from a parking space for that matter. He dropped her off at the door of every mall, shopping center, doctors office, etc. And then picked her up at the door when her business was done.

He took her to the most beautiful places. Hawaii, Aruba, Mexico, Vegas. He showered her with jewelry. Now mind you, she didn't have the jewelry box of Liz Taylor. But he was her Richard Burton, for sure.

Looking back at it all today, I wonder if the reason I have never found "Mr. Right" is because I compared anyone and everyone to my Dad. I based my relationships comparitive to how he treated her. And I have yet to find anyone even close.

Although Tim is by far the best man I have ever been with.

I am the youngest of his two daughters. I am his favorite. I know that. My sister knows it too.

Well, that's enough about me. What is happening with anyone out there?

Oh, and HAPPY FATHER'S DAY!

Suboxone Mom

Posted in: on Sunday, June 15, 2008 at at 9:52 AM 3 comments Links to this post  

Recovering Resentment........

I don’t normally focus on my recovery regarding alcohol. Because to me, alcohol is a non-issue in my life. Tim does not drink, my family (most anyway) don’t drink, and most of my friends that do drink do so in moderation.

I found the rooms of Alcoholics Anonymous at the ripe old age of 29. It was a long road of denial to get there, but I did find recovery back then. I was sober for 7 years, with a one year hiatus from sobriety and then back to AA. So I have been alcohol free since Father’s Day of 2001. They say that once you have a “slip”, you lose all of your sobriety. You have to start counting from your last drink. Father’s Day, 2001. However, those 7 previous years in AA, before my “slip” I did have sobriety. And I had it GOOD! I jumped into AA with both feet that first time back on August 29th, 1992. I got a sponsor, joined a home group, made coffee, went on speaking commitments, and surrounded myself with others in recovery. I won’t get into that one year of insanity, when I thought that I had the disease of alcoholism licked. I can say that at the end of that blackout drinking, I found myself exactly where I was 8 years prior. Alone, afraid, coming out of a blackout, not knowing where I was, where I had been, etc.

The second round of AA was a little more difficult. Not because I thought I wasn’t alcoholic, but because I didn’t really care. However, during that one year, I did continue to go to AA, raise my hand and tell everyone at my homegroup that I was “coming back” after a slip. Yet I continued to drink.

It will be 7 years of constant sobriety on Sunday. I have since stopped going to AA. However, I choose to still practice those principals in all of my affairs. Regardless of whether AA is for you or not, those 12 Steps are certainly a wonderful guideline to how one should live their life. The program is a wonderful foundation for anyone who seeks recovery.

The reason I do bring up AA and alcoholism is because I have a resentment today. All of my co-workers decided that they would meet up after work at a local bar. No one invited me. Yes, 2 people DO know that I don’t drink and reason why I don’t. Therefore, paranoia set in. Do the others know? Is that the reason I was the only person in a group of 15 people that wasn’t asked to go along? No one was whispering about the plans. And Tim insists that I am just being paranoid. But I still have this left out, square peg in a round hole, empty and paranoid sick feeling in the pit of my stomach.

Yes, I go to bars. Yes, I know some people in recovery frown upon that. But for me, today, there is no temptation to drink. I’d like to think that I have aquired some common sense along these past 16 years. I cannot drink. I blackout and make a total jerk-off out of myself. I’d like to think that I wouldn’t be tempted into that feeling of waking in the morning wondering how much of an asshole I made out of myself in front of my co-workers. Me? No thank you. I made an ass out of myself without alcohol. I don’t need to add to my daily dose of humility.

So, I won’t mention my resentment at work tomorrow. Nor will I ask how the party went for all the hung-over and rude people I work with. I will remain obviously quiet and see if anyone catches on. Or will someone surprise me and just ask why I didn’t go with them? Maybe it was just an oversight. But if you ever were to meet me, you could soon realize that I am very HARD TO FORGET!

Posted in: on Wednesday, June 11, 2008 at at 12:02 AM 0 comments Links to this post  

If your still reading this....?

Over the past months, since beginning this bloggy-thingy, I have received several emails from people struggling with addiction and questions regarding Suboxone. I am thrilled to death to be contacted. Not because it makes me feel special, but because I feel that I can actually help someone. Not exactly the type of experience one would put down on a job resume, but experience just the same. Okay, not something most would be proud of, but to be honest, I am proud of my progress regarding the oxy addiction. By progress I mean the fact that I am oxy and Suboxone free today. And do you want to know why?

Because there was someone who was there for me, to answer all my questions. Just a stranger at the time. Willing to listen to my fears and frustrations.

So to those who have emailed me, please know that you are NOT BOTHERING ME. I am honored by your questions, really.

However, please email me again at least once after I respond. Because if you don't contact me again, I have no idea if your okay, or if my words have helped you.

And I don't want to email you again because I do not want to scare you away. Or even worse, turn you off to Suboxone.

Because Suboxone saved my life. Truly saved my life.

That's all folks!

Hugs,
SubMom

Posted in: on Tuesday, June 3, 2008 at at 3:58 PM 0 comments Links to this post  

No consistency with Cymbalta


Although the Cymbalta "seems" to be working at times, it certainly isn't a cure all for depression. At least for me anyway. I go up and down with mood swings like I have NEVER done before. WTF?

Tim and I had "THE" worst fight in the history of our relationship the other day. I did something during that fight that I have never done before. I completely lost my mind and wiped off everything on his nightstand with one quick swoop. Those items included, but limited to the following; a crystal lamp, full ashtray, full can of Red Bull, a basket filled with jewelry.

Afterwards, we talked about my mood swings. I am just praying he will hang in here with me through this bullshit. I am going back to the doctor to have a heart to heart with him this week. Normally, I go every other month. And truthfully, before my severe depression this time, and since then, I haven't really been that honest with him. I just keep saying everything is fine with me. And things aren't fine. Better? Yes. Good? Sometimes. More often not good.

I don't lie to my doctor because of fear or insecurity. Really. Do you wanna know why I lie to him? Because by the time I reach his office, I am actually exhausted from stress. His office is located about 20 miles from my home and 40 miles from my office. And it is NEVER a good drive to get there. I am hardly ever surprised by the traffic. I even leave earlier than it should take with traffic. But somehow, every fucking time I go in that direction I am literally hitting my brakes every second because it is always bumper to bumper type traffic. I have tried other routes, but to no avail.

So, when I finally DO get there, my brain is so mushy I can't even think straight. So I take the lazy way out. I tell him I'm fine.

I went to my cousin's birthday party today. She turned 6 years old. Her parents hired ponies for the party. My son was impressed.......

As I was sitting watching the pony rides, my cousin, who happens to be a LSW sat beside me and we began to chat about my depression. She is probably the only one in my family who has even the smallest inkling into my condition. But if you don't suffer from depression, you can never truly know the insanity of it. Anyway, she recommended that I go see the doctor and ask him to prescribe a new medication but she didn't remember the name of it. She only knew that it was mixture of Prozac with something else??? Oh, he'll love that description of medicine I am sure, lol. But you know what? I am game for anything at this point. Still only enjoying either 2 or 3 consecutive days of "normalcy" and its just not cutting the mustard for me. Because after those 2 or 3 days I feel as though I am right back where I started. Paralyzed to join the human race. I do absolutely NOTHING but sleep, cry, whine, fight, and create resentments against those who love me and have been so supportive with all this. God, I hate myself sometimes. And yes, I hate the disease, I know. But I hate myself more at times.

Thursday we went to Atlantic City for an overnight jaunt. I had a blast. Love those slot machines. But Tim doesn't put one thin coin in the machines. He just follows me around until I get comfy on a machine, he walks around and returns within 5 minutes. And then he stands over me until I feel as though he is just waiting for me to be done. So after dragging him around 3 casino's, I finally let him off the hook and we returned to our room at Caesar's. My Dad gets rooms comp'ed to him for all his time spent down there. So when we returned to our room, I lit about 20 candles all over the room and proceeded to the jacuzzi. When I came out, toweled myself off and came into the bedroom, I heard that oh so familiar sound. Snoring. GREEEEAAAT!!!!! So much for romance. I was so livid that I thought a blood vessel popped in my brain. It wasn't even midnight. I made as much noise as possible, and moved around the bed like I was on fire. Nothing. He never even moved. I finally threatened him that I was going back to the casino, and he picked his head up off the pillow, smiled, nodded and plopped his head back down. After 3 threatening pleas, I got dressed and headed back downstairs. I was out gambling from 2:00 am and returned to the room at 5:14 am. And ya know what? HE NEVER EVEN KNEW I LEFT!

We woke up at 1:00pm, got dressed in silence (oh he knew I was beyond mad at this point), got the car and headed home. He finally spoke about 15 minutes out of AC, asking me if I wanted to stop here or there. "Nope" was the only word I used all the way home. 2 and a half hours of the silent treatment. We got home about 5pm. Saturday I worked and my boss invited us over for dinner that night. I texted him that WE were going, and he should be home by 5 to get ready. He was home by 5, a miracle itself. We went to my boss's house. We had so much fun. So at midnight, I turned to Tim and said I wanted to go home. The drinking and drunk talk was beginning to get a little out of hand amongst the hosts and guests so I wanted to duck out before they got too crazy. We came home, and watched TV, cleaned, did laundry and went to bed. We went out Sunday morning. A quick trip down the shore to pick up my little guy. Since I was the one who wanted him home for this party, Ty's dad insisted that I come and get him. I reluctantly agreed. And my ex must have called me 10 times. Because I am famous for telling him I would do something, and then go back to bed. I don't blame him for being skeptical as to whether I would show up or not. He knows about this last bout of depression, and has been trying so hard to be supportive.

As we were driving home, we stopped at a garden center, bought flowers for Mom's grave, a small cafe set for my patio, and a few other odds and ends.

When we got home, Tim informed me that he wouldn't be accompanying me to my cousin's party. Surprise, surprise.

After the party, I went to Walmart and then came home.

So I was out Thursday, Friday, Saturday and Sunday. I made 4 days of actual living like a normal person! I am trying NOT to focus on the downslide I usually experience a positive bout of normal living. But since I am up, blogging at 3:42am, chances are not good that I will make that 5th day of normal living. I am trying so hard to get my mind off of that fear, I'm making myself a little crazy.

So, goodnight and keep your fingers crossed that I actually can get out of bed for the 5th day in a row and be productive!

Hugs,
Suboxone Mom

Posted in: , , , , on Monday, June 2, 2008 at at 3:07 AM 0 comments Links to this post  

I'm Baaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaack!!!

Finally!!! I’m up and running again!

Did ya miss me? Yeah, I know……. You never knew I was gone. But that’s okay! Because I knew I was gone. I missed journaling this intense, crazy and dysfunctional life of mine, one day at a time. I truly feel as though I get something out of this blogging thing. I get to go back over my day, beat myself up for all I didn’t do, and pat myself on the back for all the positive things I may have accomplished.

Okay, so I may fall mostly to the “beating myself up” side. But I have hope. And that’s all I need today. Just a glimmer of sunshine, peeking thru those dreary days when this fucking depression gets the best of me.

I have to say, though….. I’ve been doing much better. When I do remember to take my meds that is. I don’t know what my problem is with remembering to take them. And when I forget, I forget for DAYS at a time. WTF?

And thank GOD I never was so scatterbrained when I was on birth control pills from the age of 25-35. I would have been pregnant at least once a year, every year if I had to rely on the memory I have today. Geesh!

In my time away from the blogging world, I have managed to put at least three “GOOD” days together at a time. A huge accomplishment for me these days. So now I’m striving for four “GOOD” days.

Starting tomorrow, May4th, (oops, today cuz it’s after midnight here!) I am starting a new regimen of healthy living. No, I’m not giving up the cigs and Red Bull. The cigs have not been too much of a problem anyway. Without my computer for the past 2 months, I’m smoking about 4 cigarettes a day. Compared to a pack a night just sitting here, surfing the web and playing Alchemy for hours at a time.

I am going to start eating healthy, salads and veggies. I have read in a lot of blogs where women have turned to exercise to release their stress or alleviate their symptoms of depression, so I thought I’d give it a try. Baby steps of course. One stroll around my block and I’ll probably drop dead of heart failure! But hey, it’s a start right?

So that’s it for me tonite anyway. I’m hoping to get my man in the mood for a little hanky-panky! I owe him BIG time for the bitch I have been this past week. Hey! I never said I had 3 “GOOD” days in a row this past week, did I? This week was actually a really bad one for us as a couple.

So excuse me while I go do some makin’ up with my baby. If you find a post very soon after this one ends, you’ll know my sexual heat and hot propositions didn’t woo him back into my arms. Or back into any other part of my anatomy! LOL!

Wish me luck ladies……

Posted in: on Sunday, May 4, 2008 at at 12:23 AM 1 comments Links to this post  

Revelation


Ever since I began to keep a journal, I realized that my depression is a lot more serious than I ever thought. Because I am able to look back on previous posts, I notice how much of my life is a roller coaster of emotions. Up or down. Never just in between, living life "normally" (what ever the fuck "normal" means). Because I have never known normal. I have known the extremes of my emotions, but never truly enjoyed the ride.




But what I most have realized is that since I have stopped the Suboxone treatment, my depression BOTHERS me.




I am positive my life before Suboxone was just as extreme, with the "lows" being the predominant emotion. But then, when I discovered opiates, they took my emotions, along with my energies to a new level of "high". I was energized like never before; I was SUPERWOMAN!! I could scrub my house from top to bottom in no time flat, have the laundry done and actually PUT AWAY! Dinner was on the table, with an outing on our agenda for afterwards. And when everyone was tucked into bed all snuggly and warm, I would just keep going and going and going.........




Until that fateful day when I realized that it was taking more money in one day in order to get that wonderous feeling than I could possibly make in a week. Why the arithmetic didn't add up until that day, I will never know. I guess I just kept shoving the insanity away until it came to the point where I could no longer feed my family or put gas in my car. I mean, I certainly could scrounge up enough for an oxy or two, but buying groceries was OUT OF THE QUESTION!




And during Suboxone treatment the depression was definately there. Right up front, out in the open. BUT!!! And a big BUT here: I didn't care that I was depressed. Maybe because I was just so grateful not to be using? Or maybe I was just so fearful of using again I focused all of my attention on just surviving day to day bullshit without using?




What I often struggle with is my forced recovery. And no, I don't wanna use. But seriously, would I have EVER thought to quit the oxy's if I had an unlimited supply of money? Or, better yet, if I had the keys to every pharmacy within a 30 mile radius of my house. And along with those keys came the permission to just "help myself" whenever I needed to? Sadly, but more importantly, HONESTLY, the answer is probably a big NO!




No, I would not have quit taking them. I would have just kept on "upping" my dose as needed. And in "upping" that dose, I realize that today, I would probably be dead. I know that. So that is why I choose not to use, just for today........

Posted in: , , , on Tuesday, March 25, 2008 at at 2:53 AM 4 comments Links to this post  

Two Good Days In A Row!!! Yipppeeeee!


Knock on wood, I have been productive for almost 48 hours! Not counting my sleeping which has also been kinda "normal". Tim works nights, so I haven't truly slept thru the night since early 2002. I doze off and on throughout the night. But as soon as I hear his car pull into the driveway, I used to be OUT LIKE A LIGHT. So much so that I would never stay awake long enough to greet him as he was walking thru the door. Just knowing the car pulled in was enough to know he was safe.


Since my eldest received his driver's license, of course my weekends with Tim off from work have also been shot to hell. I have to admit though, my son is (so far) a very responsible person. He certainly has 10 times more common sense than I ever had at his age.


I always instilled in him that as long as he was honest with me, I would always have his back. No matter what. Period. I also reiterate the consequences of lying to me. Just as I learned. The hard way. Lying only gave people a reason to not trust me. Once that trust is lost, it is so difficult to get back. And besides always being questioned regarding my whereabouts, I was mostly frustrated by the fact that I could never seem to regain that trust. The frustration that comes with people never believing you can certainly do a number on the mind. But looking back, my parents ALWAYS had a reason to distrust me. ALWAYS.


Between the ages of 14 and 20 I probably lied everyday to my parents. Who I was with, where I was going, what I was going to do. Fact is, I probably used the "we're going bowling" excuse over a thousand times in those days. However, I never seen the inside of a bowling alley until I was about 24.


My favorite saying to him, and the young girls I work with is this:


"Let me be your crystal ball"...........


The majority of people I work with are under the age of 25. Their constant dramas and sagas regarding the men (boys) in their lives is sometimes humorus. Because I see me in them. Insecure, and unnerved by their boyfriends actions. If I have said it once I have said it a million times, MEN ARE IMMATURE!!! Their maturity level does not peak until........ (I usually drift off the sentence at this point because I haven't met a truly mature man yet). Well, I take that back. I haven't been with one yet. I'm sure they are out there. But I doubt very much any of them are under the age of 24.


Well, enough rambling for today. Just wanted to post my gratitude regarding my 2 good days and my very wonderful son. Because I know as sure as the sun will come up tomorrow, I WILL have a series of bad days eventually. I am hoping that by writing this, I can reread later and reaffirm my faith in my meds, and my no so bad life. Cuz I tell ya, some days I honestly think I have the worst life ever......


SubMom

Posted in: on Wednesday, March 12, 2008 at at 10:42 AM 1 comments Links to this post  

Will "it" (ME) get better?


Well, its been a very slow process. I am trying to take BC's advice and just "do it", regardless of whether I want to or not. But it isn't easy. Staying in bed is just too familiar and comfortable for me right now. So again, I wasted most of the weekend here, in bed, surrounded by my laptop, cigs, Red Bull (for energy?), and the remote control. And I hate myself once again. For having no motivation whatsoever. And dozing on and off throughout the past two days has finally taken its toll. So here I am, 4:22am, wide awake. Ugh!




So tell me.....is this fucking medication working or isn't it???? ANYONE? Because there are moments when I start to feel a wee-tiny bit "normal", but those moments are just too fleeting to believe I will eventually feel normal for longer periods of time than I will like this, depressed and aching. And I am sure part of the aches are related to the depression. But the fact that I haven't moved my fat ass out of this bed in 2 days CANNOT help my body feel good, now can it.




I hate me today....... And the day has just begun. Lord, help me!!






SubMom

Posted in: on Monday, March 10, 2008 at at 4:19 AM 1 comments Links to this post  

Long Story.......





So long that I may get bored actually writing it, but here goes nuttin…….

I ran out of meds, (Cymbalta) half way thru February with my Rx not able to be refilled until March 1st. Oh, I’m lying…. I could have it refilled, BUT I would have to pay out of pocket for it. My insurance co-pay is $90, so I wasn’t even going to bother asking how much it would be without my Rx plan.

See, the thing is, there is no way that I could have run out of meds mid-stream. I remember when I picked up the script at the end of January the bottle seemed to be a little empty. But hey, I was used to looking into pill bottles and ALWAYS feeling as though they were never full enough. So I let it go. Until about the 9th of February when I realized that I only had enough meds for about 5-6 more days. 2 capsules @ 30mg each.

So I go to my pharmacy. (BTW, this pharmacist knows I was on Suboxone for opiate abuse) and explained to him that there is no way I could have taken double doses for the past 9 days. He looked at me rather skeptically. THAT alone pissed me off. I went on to explain that the last time he filled the Rx, he gave me the actual bottle of Cymbalta. Since they are packaged @ 30 pills per bottle and he had to double that amount, he actually wrote in BIG BLACK LETTERS: QTY: 60.

So this past time he also gave me the actual bottle from the Cymbalta company. Only this time he didn’t write qty: 60.

He looks at me again, with some annoyance in his eyes! Then he tells me that there is no way HE made a mistake. Now mind you, he is a teeny-weeny pharmacy located in EastBumfuck, NJ. No chain drug store around for miles. He or his assistant HAND count the pills. I have never actually seen him do any counting. It’s always this young girl who barely speaks English, let alone can READ English!

Now, keep in mind that I am trying to remain calm. I approached him with a very friendly attitude, smiling and being very humble. With the smile beginning to fade, I go on to explain that I understand that he may feel that he never makes mistakes, but everyone makes mistakes once in a while…..right? He says, “Well, I don’t”!!!!!!!!!

Now, what could this man possibly think my motive would be to lie to him? I tell him that there is NO WAY I took double doses of meds each and every day by mistake. I explain to him that I couldn’t possibly have the urge to abuse anti-depressants! I mean, can he possibly think that I would actually have it my mind to double up my dose, just to see it would work twice as fast? Or would it make me twice as UN-Depressed? Really now?

So, he actually has the nerve to suggest that perhaps the other capsules are “rolling around in my purse”. Yeah…..uh….NO!

So as I am walking out the door, I turn back and told him that I felt it would be best if he checked his inventory against his dispensing records and keep me posted.

No, never heard from him. So I stopped the Cymbalta on February 15th and went thru 2 weeks without meds. Nothing horrible happened, although I was throwing up a lot from nausea. It never occurred to me that it could be withdrawal. I still don’t know if it was or not. But I do know that I was only on the meds for a month, so how bad could it have been to stop them cold turkey.

I had my meds filled again on March 1st. Although I felt no “mental” repercussions from stopping the meds at the time, I can tell the difference now that they are back in my system. I am up again. Out of bed. Not always happy about trying to be a productive citizen of society, but I find that I can actually push myself. Whereas before, when depression was at its worse, “pushing myself” was NOT an option.

Bottlecappie was right when she noted that sometimes we don’t want to do “it”, but we must push ourselves. I honestly believe that the meds give me at least the strength to want to push myself. I’m not saying it always works, but if it works only 50% of the time, for now….I’ll take it. Getting work/chores/tasks/commitments done 50% of the time is certainly better than NEVER being able to get them done, right?

When I really began to blog, in December, I noticed that writing helps me to vent, and to go over my day, see what I did wrong or right and learn from it.

But if I look back at February, it seems my writings dwindled just as my meds were wearing off? As I said, I didn’t notice any emotional difference then, but as I look back at those last 2 weeks I was definitely not feeling as I was the month prior to this situation.

Or is it all in my subconscience…. Scary thought.

I know how I am. More is always better when it came to my addictions. And the abuse always took something that started out so well and made it end so badly. Alcohol, drugs, marriages, potato chips, chocolate, etc.

Why can’t I be addicted to something good for me? Exercise? Salad? Sunshine?

Anyway, the bottom line is this: I was not worried about being off the Cymbalta for those 2 weeks. Nor was afraid of depression or addiction. I was worried about the $90 fucking dollars I spent on half a months worth of an RX!!!!
Hugs,SubMom

Posted in: , , , , on Thursday, March 6, 2008 at at 2:04 AM 0 comments Links to this post  

Hey Hey Cinderella.....



We believed in fairy tales that day

I watched your father give you away

Your aim was true when the pink bouquet

Fell right into my hands

We danced for hours and we drank champagne

You screamed and laughed when I got up and sang

And then you rode away in a white Mustang

To your castle in the sand


Through the years and the kids and the jobs

And the dreams that lost their way

Do you ever stop and wonder

Do you ever just wanna say

Hey hey, Cinderella, what's the story all about

I got a funny feeling we missed a page or two somehow

Ohh-ohhhh, Cinderella, maybe you could help us out

Does the shoe fit you now


We're older but no more the wise

We've learned the art of compromise

Sometimes we laugh, sometimes we cry

And sometimes we just break down

We're good now 'cause we have to be

Come to terms with our vanitySometimes we still curse gravity

When no one is around


Yeah, our dolls gather dust in the corner of the attic

And bicycles rust in the rain

Still we walk in that fabled shadow

Sometimes we call her name


Hey hey, Cinderella, what's the story all about

I got a funny feeling we missed a page or two somehow

Ohh-ohhhh, Cinderella, maybe you could help us out

Does the shoe fit you now??


Posted in: on Monday, March 3, 2008 at at 8:41 AM 1 comments Links to this post  

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