Every morning I wake up, shower, get dressed and make a pot of decaf coffee in a cute little Ikea French press. It’s a habit that helps me cope with the usual “benzo morning madness.”  So it was interesting when two days ago, the coffee grounds mysteriously disappeared.

Like most mornings, I padded into the kitchen and I tucked a paper towel under the coffee grinder, poured the whole beans from the pretty Trader Joe’s tin into it and turned it on. I like the whirrring sound it makes. I poured the grounds into the French press and removed the paper towel.

I used the paper towel to wipe a section of my kitchen counter and then tossed it in the garbage. A soft high-pitched whistle let me know that the water in the kettle was starting to boil. I snapped off the stove, grabbed the kettle, and lifted it to pour over the grounds in the press. But, there was no press.

I put the kettle down. What in the world was going on? I know I ground beans. I just threw away the paper towel that I had put on the grinder. I scratched my head.

I looked in the grinder. No beans. I looked on the shelf where I keep the French press. It sat quietly, sorta leering at me. There were no coffee grounds in it, so I had not poured them in and then put it back on the self. Maybe I threw them away? I lifted the lid of the garbage can. Nope. Not there.

Where in the world could coffee grounds go, for heaven’s sake?

I stood still and breathed slowly.

What should I do next? I decided to start over. I pulled the Trader Joe’s tin out of the cupboard. I put another paper towel under the coffee grinder. I lifted and tilted the tin over the grinder. Yup, you guessed it. Coffee grounds and beans tumbled out. I laughed out loud. So that’s what happened to the coffee grounds! I had poured them right back into the tin!

I felt relief spread through me. The mystery solved.

These types of memory lapses used to be so common in early withdrawal. I took a moment to feel gratitude that they were happening less often. I had not had a confusing morning in a long time. I know I am getting better.

There was a time when I seriously gave up hope of ever being normal again. I could not imagine a life where I had normal thoughts and feelings. Everything was overwhelming. Everything. Now, life is sweet again. It will be for you too.

Never give up.  I am so glad I didn’t. It get’s better.

My silly coffee mishap was just that, silly. And it could have happened to anyone. Not just those of us healing from benzos.

I poured my decaf into a fancy china coffee cup with saucer. I took it outside to the garden and sat down in a rocking chair. The birds sang. Mr. Squirrel came into the yard begging for peanuts. I threw a handful onto the sidewalk.  Sam sauntered out of the house and jumped into the chair beside me. Mr. Crow landed on the power line, eyeing the peanuts. Neighbors began to walk by, waving and calling out happy greetings.

Yes indeed. Life is sweet once again.

 

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