Time for Business!

This has been such a weird journey. I started this blog and its Facebook page over three years ago. I had no goals in mind. Just going with the flow, and following my inner guidance.

I am building my own business doing jewelry, astrology, and card reading, and writing when I feel I have something to say. I have been wanting to offer a website and online store of my own, and am doing things that can lead to that. I recently started CBD oil and am looking to affiliate with companies to make it available to order from me.

In the meantime, I am pleased to announce affiliation with The Mystical Moon Store. They have locations in Florida, but their online store is amazing!! Crystals, sage, candles, oils, books, Tarot/Oracle cards… pretty much all the things. Check it out!

The Mystical Moon Store

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Looking at the Big Picture.

My professional life, such as it is, has been a whirlwind of both chaos and amazing in the last couple years. Serious ups and downs. From losing my 5th job in seven years because of drinking… to not drinking and owning an international business. It can be said I am an international jewelry designer now, By the Indigo Moon, LLC. My astrology page, The Sober Astrologer, is reaching 1,000 likes on Facebook. There was a recent time I wanted to stop all of this, but I received strong support from people around the world asking me to keep going. Thank you. 🙏

Looking at current transits, and looking back at the last couple years, the inconsistency makes sense. I’ve “been in business” nine months now, but I’m still $1,000 in the red. Mostly the legal fees and office set-up costs. I just haven’t got with it fully yet. I get in my own way and hold myself back. I struggle to determine my worth for astrology teachings and card readings.

Three of the four points on the chart are my natals: Mars/IC/Jupiter, Saturn/Sun, and MC. Uranus in transit completes this kite. It has been in effect for a couple years now at varying strengths. It was destined/determined by the North Node transiting Leo, and solidified by Saturn’s transit in late Sagittarius. And now I feel it being energized by this current Mars transit, approaching my MC at 29° Sagittarius. It’s time for me to fly. 😍🙏

If you wish to support my work going forward, I am looking into Patreon options. Also, I have a PayPal account for donations: PayPal here.

Cheers to Three Years.

I almost forgot to acknowledge this date, February 20. It was three years ago I started this blog and my Facebook page to support it. It too was called By the Indigo Moon, like this blog. I added LLC to it last year when I obtained the status.

What a wild ride it has been the last three years. I had just lost my third job in this city due to my drinking problem. I ‘tried to quit’ but started drinking again in my binge patterns after 5 months. I had an ER visit and now have lifetime health issues due to irresponsible drinking. I lost two more jobs because of my drinking. I made the choice again Labor Day 2016 that I was done, at all costs. I haven’t had a job since then. I am on meds to help anxiety and PTSD, which I know now is the main trigger to me drinking. I was briefly off meds and relapsed once last summer. My new sober date is July 8, 2017.

Three years ago I started this blog because I wanted to write about my life, mixed with some astrology. I was soon inspired to start working with crystals, which led to Spiritual Medium classes and Reiki Mastership, and now I have my own business to make Reiki bracelets and read Oracles and Tarot.

I quickly became uninspired to write for a lot of reasons; looking back it was possibly my Neptune Square fogging over my direction. This is now finally complete. His next Retro will come very close, but it won’t exact again. It could also be that I was trying to take on the world, spreading my energy too thin. I find my head clearing. I am learning my boundaries and what I need to do moving forward.

Relapse to Realization.

*This is going to be kind of long.* 🙈

As you may know, I came to the realization over Labor Day weekend 2016 that I cannot drink anymore for medical reasons. For some time it was a battle. I stopped working and some days my entire focus was on staying sober. What you may not know (or maybe you do) is that I probably should have been on medication all this whole time, my whole adult life.

Like so many others, I drank so hard as a way to self-medicate. I believe I have undiagnosed anxiety issues. Misdiagnosed in my teenage years as bipolar. Wrongly medicated then, which is why I resisted meds for so long since. I had a drinking-related ER visit last summer. I finally followed up with my doctor in the spring. Long story short, I had an anxiety attack while I was there. They gave me some meds to try for my anxiety.

By the time summer came, things were very different, in all the best ways. The meds are so great for me. I don’t even care about drinking, as long as I stay away from it. I still cringe to go to the grocery store, past all the booze. Especially now with the gift boxes for Christmas. It really sucks that its such a part of society. Anyway… by the time summer came, I ran out of the three month’s prescriptions. I didn’t know what to do, so I just didn’t do anything. I felt like I was strong enough after ten months sober to try going off the meds. BAD IDEA.

My home is rather unique, and easy to party in. Summer means pool parties or lazy nights on the patio listening to the woods behind the house. I relapsed. After ten months. The disappointment on my husband’s face (again) was so hard. Not only that, the shame I felt because I sometimes tried to hype myself up as Ms. Sober. I had to swallow my pride and start over. I went back on my meds.

I turned 40 in August, and had a mostly fabulous trip to St. Pete Beach, Florida. Our future home. We took my best female friend and her mom with. Awesome times. One of my meds is once a day. The other is three times a day. Early on in the trip, I slacked on the second medication. I took it in the AM with the other but not the two doses the rest of the day. That caught up to me on Day Three. I wasted much of it crying on my balcony, wishing I could drink. I realized then that these meds are actually working miracles. I am truly thankful that I have found something and not bouncing medication to medication. I hate to talk about this because of the stigma attached, and also because again I am swallowing my pride. For so long I bucked medication because I was on the wrong medications. A few people have told me to not feel bad being on meds, that it’s a tool in a toolbox, so why not.

Fully full disclosure, I chose to have one drink, a martini, on the last night of our trip. I wanted one LAST drink, to salute our trip, my 30s, my 40s, and my little family that I have in my life away from my hometown. I thought long and hard about it, and prayed a lot. I asked for the strength for one and done. Not just that night, but the next day when we went back home and all the days after. One last drink. I did it, and so far I’m still successful. I wouldn’t have done it if I was in a bad mindset. I wanted to on my birthday but I knew it would have not been good. That was August 27, so at the time of this writing I am officially back over three months again now. I do take my meds faithfully. It took a relapse and a could have been another relapse to realize I am someone who benefits from mental health meds. Sometimes meditation, stones, positive thinking, etc. just aren’t enough.

Speaking of stones, being on the meds helps block the obsessive drinking thoughts, and allows me to focus on my true self. My most inner self and what makes me happy. I have founded my own company. My own brand, based on the name of this blog. By the Indigo Moon, LLC. Official. I already have orders, domestic and international. I never thought I could be an international jewelry designer. My intentions for my company are to make crystal healing bracelets for people, to help people heal with Reiki (I am a Reiki Master), to help people learn about crystal healing and astrology, and to help give them guidance and support via Tarot, Oracles, and just being awesome with memes. You can find me on social media at:

Facebook: By the Indigo Moon, LLC

Instagram: bytheindigomoonllc

FB group: By the Indigo Sun… This name is slightly different because it’s a closed group. I don’t want to take a chance of someone accidentally putting sensitive info on the public business page instead of the closed private group for discussion.

Thank you for reading. A long time, sober, friend of mine suggested it is my duty to talk about my relapse. So I write this for her. I write this for anyone who thinks they are strong enough to go back to casual drinking. If you can, good for you. I can’t. Maybe me telling my story helps someone realize they too cannot, and I can save them from the shame of relapse. It took me a relapse to realize.

If you like my works and would like to support, I have a PayPal.

The Day I Defied Death, Twice

This day may as well be my new birthday. It was on this date in two different years of my life that I defied death.

July 24, 2002. I would classify this as a Near-Death Experience. Long story short, I was with my ex-boyfriend at the time. He choked me in an argument, and I lost consciousness. I did not see light or anything like that, not that I remember. But what I do remember is blackness, with my Self-talk saying I have to get back to my best friend. “I gotta get back to Tani,” just over and over until it did lighten up as I fully regained consciousness. I was re-born that day, as I realized I do have true purpose in this world. That I am important to my best friend and he needed me back by his side.

July 24, 2016. Completely different experience. Completely different life. But anxiety likely related to that past relationship had grown and taken its toll. I lost my way, and kind of drifted along. Tani is still very much my best friend, but he has grown into himself now. I also have importance to my niece, but she is far away too, as Tani is. I was lost in the bottle. Binge drinking for 6+ years.

This day was the last day of my last mega-binge. I drank a lot over the last 2-3 days. I did work my bartending shifts, but my self-care lacked. I didn’t eat much, and I didn’t stop for water breaks during my busy shifts. So I basically was drinking coffee or alcohol. Straight.

As I closed my shift that Saturday night, I took one shot and went home. I was doing laundry that night, but I also had a bottle of apple vodka in the laundry room. I would take a shot, or a second one, as I flipped the loads. Next thing you know, I am passed out on the floor of my dining room bar.

I took a nap and powered up for our traditional Sunday Fundays at our pool. I realized I actually drank about half that bottle in about 3-4 hours the night before. The shot glass was actually more like 2-2.5 shots. But in my mind, “it was only one.”

What felt like a normal hangover eventually proved to be much worse. I went to the ER days later to find all kinds of internal damage. I have had a few drinking episodes since, a total of five, and I now realize that I cannot drink ever again because it aggravates the damage done back then.

I was re-born into someone who (obviously) cannot drink, but can help others find their way, be it via learning their birth chart, finding stones that resonate, making pretty things, Reiki, giving Tarot/Oracle readings…. Or maybe just being awesome. It is Leo Season, after all.

Living Out Loud

I can be bold. Obnoxious even, when it comes to sports especially. I toe the line of playful banter, or not so playful. I openly obsess over Mexico. I gush over my kitties and my beautiful home. But I often hold back, as well.

All my life I have felt so insecure. They say you can’t miss what you never had, but there is nothing that could replace Daddy’s love. I’ve never felt that, so I’ve often felt out of place in the world. Ashamed and afraid. Even at the age of 39.

The answer to life’s problems is definitely not at the bottom of any bottle. I’ve searched many. It has been 22 weeks now since my last binge.

Every one of us is different, and we need to do what is best for ourselves. I have chosen to do this recovery by myself. As in, without rehab or therapy of any kind. I have ‘graduated’ from one program already, but obviously it did not do what I really needed to change at the time. I have to say it did give me some tools and awareness to ultimately face this, fourteen years later. I have my own program.

My main trigger to relapse is anxiety. I am aware of that. I am working to eliminate or at least manage the anxiety so it doesn’t consume me. I researched vitamins and supplements, for both anxiety and to hopefully rebuild my poor liver. I have been faithful in this regime for almost five months now. Writing is also helping. I have hobbies like astrology, sports, and swimming.

My problem with traditional therapy is that I cannot allow myself to connect easily. Counselors have actually given up on me. I just cannot fully trust someone when I was forsaken before I was ever born. I am married to the most wonderfully supportive, understanding man. I have come a long way in my relationship with him in my self-worth department but maybe I still kind of hold back in some ways. I have friends and close friends. Different people see different sides or layers of me.

I have to be accountable in my recovery. Accountability was a HUGE deal in my program. Personal accountability. “I language.” That aspect of the classes has helped me tremendously in life. I made it part of who I am and have always carried it with me. Accountability is a big part of AA or other programs as well. I am accountable to my husband and my best friend, who is also fighting this battle 400 miles away.

Social media has really come into life since I was in that program, and it truly could be the most helpful tool in my recovery. Being able to connect, instantly, around the world. It is that connection I crave, that I need. I was never Daddy’s girl, though my husband does spoil me entirely now. I stay home these days. I am focusing on my recovery. My husband works, but is not always immediately accessible when anxiety strikes. My close friends also have jobs, families, or obligations.

Feeling connection helps me feel purpose. As a fatherless daughter I struggle with that often. Like the quote attributed to John Lennon, when I grow up I just want to be happy. I love when I make people laugh. Friends have noted that is what they remember about me. I even got the crying/laughing emoji as a Christmas present. I post things all day just trying to laugh my day away.

I find myself posting and writing a lot about my recovery. I find that it is actually the most effective form of accountability for me. Sure I am accountable to my people, but I have also failed them on many occasions before. Since I have brought my recovery to social media, it has changed my game entirely. If I fail now it will be on a world stage. I don’t know if my Leo ego could allow it.

So for that, I will not apologize. I will live my recovery loud and proud. I will no longer apologize for being myself out of fear of what someone may think. I’m almost 40 and I’ve lived this long without Daddy’s approval. My inner rebel is quite amused.

Yes, You Really Can.

It has taken some time to process this, but yes you can. You really can do whatever you put your mind to.

I taught myself Spanish. I’m not quite fully fluent, but I have no trouble with it at all. I wanted to be able to speak Spanish as long as I can remember. Much of my adult life I have worked in restaurants with some Spanish speaking people. It drove me nuts when non- speakers would say “I wish I could speak Spanish too.” Well guess what, yes you can. If you really want to you can teach yourself just like I did. Little by little for the last 20 years now. Practicing what I know and trying to learn more as I go. Reading as much as possible in Spanish helps a lot, too. My Spanish and my accent both are so good that natural Spanish speakers can’t believe I’m American. But I taught myself. You can too.

Astrology. I wanted to learn so I am learning. For the last five years I have read all I can. I joined some astrology groups on Facebook. I don’t post too much but I lurk and I learn. I know so much that people have come to me to teach a beginner class. People often ask me for insights on their charts. I don’t know it all, but little by little. Yes you can.

Drums. I’ve always been fascinated and want to play. I have taken every opportunity to learn. Watching music videos, listening to music intently through my headphones. Any opportunity to watch someone play live I studied them carefully. Sometimes I have sat at the set myself. Hopefully soon I will have my own drums in my basement, and I will prove again that yes, you can.

This brings me to my biggest challenge yet. Not drinking alcohol. I had to quit drinking about 6 months ago for medical reasons. Was it hard? Oh yes. I had been leaning on the bottle for over 6 years since I had to move here. What do I do without my ‘best friend?’ I have cried a lot. I miss out on times with actual friends when I think I might be too tempted. Whatever I have to do I’m doing. People say that too, “I wish I could stop drinking.” Don’t tell me that. Because yes, you can. 

I may get snarky people who think I’m insensitive to the addiction, but I was labelled alcoholic 14 years ago. It became a monster for me in the last 7 years. But not anymore. I have over 5 months of not even a taste of alcohol now. I decided no more hangovers and no more IVs at the hospital. 

Like the saying goes, “I decided I didn’t want to feel like that anymore so I changed.” If you really want to, you can too. Si se puedes.

 🎶 Orphaned to the Dope and Drinks 🎶

Who would think Pantera lyrics could inspire someone… 

My mother and father were stationed in the Navy together. A brief fling, but here I am. My mother returned to her hometown about six months or so pregnant. My father refused contact. He abandoned me while I was still in the womb.

They say mothers do the best they can at the time. I will never know, because I will likely never have children. My biggest reason is because I haven’t yet recovered from my own childhood. For as long as I can remember, I have always felt forsaken by my mother in a lot of ways, as well.

My mother chose to not put my father’s name on my birth certificate, so that limited her recourse in even getting medical records. All feelings aside, that is the worst part of this. Any time I go to the doctor for all my life I only have half my medical records. I don’t know what all ‘runs in the family.’

My mother is a twin. They were 23 when I was born. Young adults. My aunt was married with a daughter four years older than I. When I was first born we all lived at Grandma’s but soon after my aunt and uncle bought a house. The decision was made for us all to live together. My mom would stay home for the kids while my aunt and uncle worked. I had two more cousins join us, boys, one four years younger and the other 5+ years younger. So I am an only child of a single mom, but ultimately three adults and four children made up my childhood home. Crazy, and quite confusing.

I was tormented in my dreams as a small girl. I had a recurring dream, that my father came in a hot air balloon and took my mom away. Separation anxiety was a big deal. In first grade, my mom would stay after lunch and help with the reading class. She felt she needed to, and my teacher agreed, because otherwise I would leave at lunch. Skipping school for me started in first grade. I never actually felt important to my mom, until she lost custody of me. I often accompanied her to the grocery store and laundromat as a way to get alone time with her. Because otherwise I can really only think of one time in my whole life we have ever done mommy/daughter anything. 

My mom was always up front answering questions about my father. Her information was rather limited, and with a name like Stephen Hughes it makes my searches seem impossible. I do have one picture. I still have it, thank God. All the times I had to start over. Through a house fire and everything I still have the one and only picture of my father I ever saw.

She was the ‘neighborhood mom.’ Once someone cut his finger and needed stitches. It wasn’t his mom in the ER with him. His mom waited in the lobby and my mom was the one holding his (other) hand. I have a love/hate relationship with that. She has such a thing with kids. Its amazing, actually. But I hated it. Between the neighborhood kids and my cousins, I often wondered What about your own daughter? 

I could have quoted Slayer instead for a title. Innocence, withdrawn in fear. It is a line from the song Silent Scream. Whoever wrote that song had to have grown up without a daddy, too. Think of childhood. Words like innocence come to mind. I wanted to make friends at school. Sometimes it felt like I had some. Often times, however, I alienated myself. Withdrawn in fear. Other than swimming and baseball, I mostly isolated myself in my room. Alone with my imagination. Dreaming of a life somewhere far far away. With my music. The one constant of my whole life. I felt so different, and that nobody could possibly understand me. Anyone that tried I pushed away, again not wanting pity, or afraid they will also forsake me somehow. It seemed everyone I ever knew had their dad. Whether it was every other weekend or only in their memories.

Friends? I had some. I reconnected with my very first best friend last year. We of course talked about our Big Wheels and such, but he said he remembered my middle finger the most. Little four year old me flipping off the world saying “Fucking bitchessss!” Wow. So much angst at such a young age. I don’t even remember. I thought I remembered so much. He moved away, as did my other early BFF. I do have a couple neighborhood friends younger than me.

School was such a big deal for me. I am naturally very smart. Unfortunately I also had a mental block against learning, and it stems from not having my father. I was almost always teacher’s pet. I took it as pity. They talked about “my potential” and it just drove me nuts! Why bother excelling in school? My father doesn’t care, so why should anyone? I settled in as much as I could after first grade, but by 7th grade I had enough. 

The way the district was set up at the time, 6th grade was when you graduated elementary school. I missed that ceremony. Migraines already. Or maybe I just didn’t want to do it without my father. So on to 7th grade… seemingly without friends. A couple of my good friends in my class moved that summer. I had a complex, that those who did know me from elementary school would talk about me, the freak. I completely lost interest by October. I quit. My mom let me stay home, because she already knew I would just leave school anyways. 

No surprise, I was subject to court appearances and eventually probation and counseling. No big deal. Twice counselors refused me, saying talking to me is like talking to a brick wall. They can’t reach me. I quit again the next year too. My second year of 7th grade. I only made it through the first semester but they let me pass this time. My mom decided to enroll me in the local Christian school for 8th grade. I went all year and made honor roll. 

I was sick of the façade after just the one year. Combine that with ‘the wrong group’ and it is a recipe for disaster. I started smoking and listening to gangster rap, and having sex. I got myself kicked out of Christian school and re-enrolled into 9th grade back at the same public school, this time with some like-minded friends. We skipped school a lot. If nobody wanted to skip with me, I would just stay home. Sometimes we would get ourselves kicked out of 1st hour, to go to in-school suspension and cause a scene to be kicked out from there. Out of school suspension equals legal skipping was the logic. By December, an uncle introduced me to the joys of alcohol. He would sometimes pick up my friends and I and we would go drink all day. My mom knew, but again she let it happen because she knew I would rebel anyways. 

My probation officer asked the court to give me 20 days in jail to try to turn me around. The court gave me 10 days. She told me after this if I didn’t go to school for one month she would send me to a group home. I tried. I took it serious. Until 3rd hour, when I told a friend what was happening. Someone heard me, and laughed in my face. Done.

One week before my 16th birthday, I was indeed removed from my mom’s custody. I was placed in a girl’s group home the next town over. I entered 9th grade for the second time. Two years behind my original class. But at least nobody knew me. I had a couple friends and was consistently on the honor roll. I did theater and Student Council. After 10th grade, my guidance counselor said if I do these four credits home school over the summer, that would basically be my junior year, and I could graduate only one year behind. But then I turned 18 my first day of senior year. I knew if I acted up they would kick me out and I could be free. But I had no home to go to. My family lost my childhood home while I was gone. Seven years later I obtained my GED with extremely high honors, and very little effort. I am intellectually blessed, indeed.

It wasn’t until I heard that song by Slayer at age 20 that I realized there could be someone else out there like me. When I actually heard the words this guy was saying I had to stop the car. I was crying too hard. Tears of relief. I rewound the song and listened again. It is a twisted song to those who can’t understand. He talks about abortion, but that is how I felt about this. I felt I shouldn’t have been born. This song went a long ways to help me accept that I am here. I did attempt suicide when I was like 13, but obviously that failed. Since then I have never been suicidal. If 23 phenobarbital pills didn’t kill me, I must be here for something.

25 Years. That is the name of the song by Pantera I quoted for this blog title. I believe that guy had issues with his father too. Alcoholic. The full line goes orphaned to the dope and drinks, I learned my lessons well somehow from you. 

Why Should I “Have To” Drink?

I took my husband to the dentist today. He was put under anesthesia to have some work done, so he needed me to drive him. The dental assistants brought him out in a wheelchair. They said he was talking about wanting ice cream. I said I could drop him off at home and run to Kroger close to our house for him.

That’s when it got a little weird. One of the office assistants mentioned I will probably need to stop “for a little something” for myself. Of course I knew what she meant. I should stop at the liquor store so I could get booze to ‘deal with my husband.’ I laughed and pointed out that I could get “what I need” at Kroger also. We all laughed that it is “one stop shopping!”

I could have broke down in tears easily. Recovery is so hard sometimes. I am feeling strong on this Day 135, so instead I went along with their jokes. I figured why bring their moods down, when they are just trying to laugh through their days like I do.

It really bothers me that we live in a society that almost forces the booze down my throat, but I refuse to give in. Not today, Satan.

Sometimes Not Drinking is Not a Choice.

I often get frustrated and resentful when I read about people who chose to give up drinking. It hurts most when it’s a temporary thing. I did that before. I stopped drinking for almost three months, leading up to a vacation to Cancún.

I was a binge drinker for almost seven years. It caught up to me over the summer. I ended up in the emergency room when the pain didn’t go away three days after the latest binge. The diagnoses were scary. Words like swollen intestines and liver malfunction. I am still tempted to get a tattoo, of the bruising on my forearm from the IV that night.

I took my antibiotics as prescribed, and did not drink for about 4 weeks. I then had three more drunken nights, over a ten day period. I had some small pain develop after that last night. It was very very minor, like a reminder, “Hey dumbass!” I listened.

It is now Day 131. My last drink was September 3rd. 

I actively participate in my recovery by constantly and consistently being mindful of my triggers. I often feel left out or get left out because going to the bar is serious for me. I already know.

My husband doesn’t drink. He quit ten years ago, when he first experienced me drunk. If he can attend functions with me it is rather easy. If he is at work however, unless there is football on I likely won’t go. I loved our Football Sundays at our local Buffalo Wild Wings. It is unfortunate that to be able to watch all the games at once it is at the bar, but personally I find it easy to focus on the football.

I actually made it through this entire NFL Bears season without so much as one shot. Not even a taste. All humor aside it is so hard. I struggle almost daily. I grieve like I lost my best friend. Drinking was a huge part of my life for those seven years. But for me this is no choice. My cats need me. My husband. My niece. I have friends who truly love me and embrace my humor in their lives.