I made it to the eighth stage of my quit smoking app before I abandoned it. At this stage the goal was a sixty-nine percent reduction from my initial twenty cigarettes per day and to meet that goal there was a two hour and thirty minute interval between cigarettes. I started cheating all the time and escalated back up to about twenty cigarettes per day.

I tried to cut back gradually again but that didn’t work either. My stupid addiction got the best of me once again. I felt like shit with every pack I smoked but I couldn’t seem to stop myself, not even with a Juul for a substitute.

Fast forward a few weeks and I am going bananas for a cigarette. Part of my quit strategy that worked last time was leaving myself broke and not borrowing money for cigarettes, and it’s kind of working, but damn I hate it! I’ve been puffing on my Juul like it owes me money and digging through my own cigarette butts. I’ve been really struggling with quitting, obviously.

Someone who owed me a little money and as soon as she paid me I was off to the store to get my smokes. That first inhale was sweet relief. Finally! A cigarette! Even though I had gone a couple of days without a smoke I jumped right back into my habit of smoking my usual twenty cigarettes per day. My partner compared quitting smoking to tipping over a vending machine. It might take several tries, the point is I keep trying.

My stepdaughter stopped talking to me a few years ago, I’m not sure why but ever since then I’d been sending loving messages to let her know I was thinking of her and hoped she was doing well. My patience has finally paid off. She replied to me and it and we had a wonderful conversation via text. It blew my mind, I thought I had lost her forever. We didn’t get into why she stopped talking to me, it didn’t seem to be as important as reconnecting.

She talked about some struggles she had overcome over the last few years and brought me up to speed on what’s happening in her life. She told me her child is a transgender girl and described the amazing support they receive from family, friends and the community. I was so glad, and relieved, to know they had so much support.

She told me she and her father are best friends and that he has changed. I said I was happy for her. She said she didn’t want to discuss her father beyond that so we were able to set a boundary right away by agreeing her father had no place in our conversations.

I’m having trouble sorting out my feelings. On one hand I was overjoyed to hear from her and so glad she is willing to reconnect. On the other hand talking to her was triggering for me. It brought back a lot of unwanted memories and feelings that actually have nothing to do with her, they are all about the ex. It is my hope that my reaction will settle over time as she and I talk more; and without any mention of her father.

I would have liked to have shared more about where I am in my life but I am being cautious as I don’t know how much she is inclined to talk to her father about me. My life isn’t a big secret, it’s just none of his business.

I feel like I am starting to come out the other side of my latest bout of depression and anxiety. It felt so heavy and every time I sat down to write the words wouldn’t come. I still have the same worries that drove me into that dark space, The only thing that has changed is how I am handling them.

My youngest daughter still is not speaking to me, really. I reach out to her now and again just to say I love her and I miss her. I don’t usually get a reply although she did reply one time and we had a very brief conversation via text. She has not replied to any subsequent messages from me. I feel a lot of pain from this situation but there is nothing I can do except keep reaching out and being patient.

My son is in a tight spot. He and his family had to move from their apartment because the owner of the house sold it. They were not able to find a new place within their budget and are now sleeping in a shed in the backyard of his girlfriend’s grandmother’s home. The children are staying in the house with the grandmother. Again, there is absolutely nothing I can do. I haven’t the income to be able to help financially nor do I live anywhere close to them so I can’t give them a place to stay.

I have accepted that there is nothing I can do for either my son or youngest daughter. Worrying about them isn’t going to help anyone, least of all me. It’s easier said than done and I put effort into not worrying every day by doing other activities which are calming for me.

My oldest daughter’s biological father had kept some photos that were taken when I was just eighteen years old. He gave them to her and she passed them on to me. Receiving the photos triggered a lot of memories for me. I wish I could say they were good.

Most of the photos were taken by my former roommate who was much older than I. This roommate and I used to drink together and we had some pretty good times. One night, however, I was passing out from too much wine he climbed on top of me and sexually assaulted me. He only stopped when I started to throw up. This was around the same time I started going out with my oldest daughter’s biological father. He never knew what my old roommate did and I didn’t talk about it for years.

After I moved in with my daughter’s biological father I started running around on him. I cheated, and lied, and manipulated the poor man. He was a good man but I did not treat him or the relationship with any kind of respect. I got caught cheating when I passed a sexually transmitted infection to him. I had also gotten unexpectedly pregnant. I had an abortion for a few reasons, not the least of which was that I didn’t know who the father was as I was also raped (by a stranger) at around the same time.

About six months later I found myself pregnant again and I knew the biological father was my boyfriend but he and I split up. Almost immediately afterwards I started going with a violent alcoholic (he was only violent when he drank-which was all the time) and we were homeless for months. I left him about a month before my daughter was born and crawled home to my parents with my tail between my legs. After she was born I left her with my parents while I went to live with another boyfriend who hit me (he only did it once) and I went back home again after just two months. It was at this point I made the decision to sign the adoption papers my parents had drawn up.

The memories are painful but I have managed to tolerate the sorrow and shame. It’s a very different reaction than I had a few years ago when he (my daughter’s father) contacted me to ask if she was really his daughter. I cried for five straight days. I couldn’t function. I was back there experiencing it all over again. Instead I was able to show my younger self some compassion and move on. I didn’t experience the self-loathing nor did I judge myself as harshly as I once did. I spoke to myself like I would to a dear friend. It was like looking at my history through a different lens.

What is radical acceptance and how does it help? Let’s break it down; radical means all the way, complete and total; it’s ceasing to fight reality, stopping tantrums and letting go of bitterness. It’s accepting reality as it is; that facts from the past cannot be changed; that everything has a cause; and life can be worth living even with painful events in it.

By accepting reality as it is I can move on with my life without being stuck in unhappiness, anger, bitterness, sadness or shame, or other painful emotions. That’s not to say these emotions won’t come, they will; and maybe I’ll feel sorrow but I’ll be able to move past it, it doesn’t have to hijack my whole day.

I can virtually guarantee that rejecting reality equals suffering. I’ve done it long enough to know. I’ve shed countless tears, locked myself away for months and drank myself stupid more than once all in an effort to run from reality.

It isn’t always easy to recognize when I am trying to reject reality so I look for the signs like anger, bitterness, annoyance, and avoiding emotions. I watch for questions like “Why me?”, “Why is this happening?” and statements like, “I can’t stand this.” and “It shouldn’t be this way.”

Applying radical acceptance has helped me stop destructive behaviours like hiding from my pain at the bottom of a bottle, sabotaging myself and my relationships, and texting or calling people to confront them. Of course I’m tempted at times but it doesn’t solve anything nor does it help me, I just end up suffering.