The product of being the last born of four, I consciously and subconsciously was on a mission to be different. I didn’t want any of my teachers to think I was a replica of my older siblings and I felt a need to stand out to my parents. This naturally morphed into being the “crazy” one who drank with reckless abandon and would say or do just about anything on a dare. The tattoos started at 18.
With the back tat of 2012, I was immediately inclined to start shopping for shirts that had the back material cut out. What good is a battle scar if you don’t show it off? I found an oversized black tank with 16 squares cut out of the back. The drippy, white lettering on the front read “Normal is Boring.” Perfecto. I snagged that shirt up and marched it to the cashier. Ensuring that this motto was deeply engrained, 4 years later I committed to purple hair, one side shaved. I was in my 30s, mind you, and a mom of 3 children that attended Catholic school. There are no words. That’s me with my hair and my shirt with my new friends in Jamaica, 2016.
And because if it’s not broke, don’t fix it, this is me donning that shirt again 6 years later. Normal hair, more tattoos. This go-round, I was in Nashville, Tennessee for an amazing Red Hot Chili Pepper concert. At this point in my life, I had decided to be super sober, forsaking all alcohol and the fun tipsiness that comes with it. In exchange, I received 100% hangover-free days. This precious gift, the key to more time living, still gave me sad twinges, because I felt I was losing part of my identity. Drunk Amanda is crazy and, from my perspective, mostly fun crazy. Back then I thought sober people are Normal, and Normal is Boring. I had spent years striving to be living proof of it.
It’s taken me two years since to realize that Normal has various shades of meaning; Loco isn’t always its antonym. Normal can be sameness. Normal is doing what everyone else is doing. When I’ve chosen not to imbibe, I’m actually super keen on the fact that I’m not doing what everyone else is doing. Athletic events, dinner and lunch, oh & breakfast, vacation-plane, airport & poolside, holidays, celebrations of marriage or life or birthdays, after-work get-togethers … if I choose not to drink at nearly any gathering, I am on the outside looking in. There is no better motivation for creating an exit strategy than being in an area where becoming increasingly drunk is trending, and you aren’t part of the crowd. At the beginning of sobriety, these moments of being the ‘odd woman out’ felt uncomfortable, but now I realize that’s exactly what I have always aimed to be.
This revelation that I’m still not Normal has also helped me find my place in a family that is Living with Leukemia. The concern and sympathy that comes our way from medical staff, family, friends & strangers holds with it a weight of worry and sadness. Of course it does, it can’t help but to because Cancer is, in fact, very fucking sad. In every conversation I have about the happenings of Cancer, I face a furrowed brow. When people continuously feel sorry for you, it almost feels wrong to smile or speak of something happy. Furthermore, most summers, we would be tirelessly travelling to baseball games and enjoying a family vacation from work and school. Looking at the big picture as a whole, right now, our Abnormal summer really sucks!
During a time that is anything but normal, being my normal self is what is going to mark me as different. I pledge to still bitch and complain about how Every.Single.Damned street and highway in Indiana are under construction at the same time because that ultimately points out that being forced to stay in right now isn’t really that bad of a thing. Atypically, every conversation of mine isn’t going to center around Cancer. I am going to lean towards the positive components in this health journey, highlighting things like how much more mindful we are at sanitizing our house now! Just like in the dregs of life, there are little blessings to be found among Living with Cancer. I’m so thankful I’m sober af which enables me to notice more of them. Also, per usual, I will spend a little time with my head in the clouds, thinking about the future. Imagining a life after kicking Cancer’s ass is limitless. In the meantime, we will exist every day like before, in which some days are closer to 100% than others, and knowing that the bad days help us appreciate the great ones.
I finally had to part with my shirt but sticking with being an oddity, I’ve never joined FanDuel or DraftKings, or any of the other gambling sites and apps out there. However, I must share a hunch when I feel one. Wagering that a high percentage of humans that have had their hair dyed purple was the youngest of the fam would be a safe bet. In this family, we are 2 of 3.
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