Snack Attack


Food is my vice. Despite the chaotic and emotionally traumatic roller coaster of a life I have had to survive since day one on planet Earth, the only vice I have truly had is food. I have dabbled with cigarettes, alcohol and drugs and have never become addicted. So I can even say that I don’t have an addictive personality, it’s not that I can say no and never try things. I have even tried things and then never become addicted and had it been a mind over matter situation and chosen to not become addicted to any of those substances, ever.

But food/sugar. That’s another story altogether. I have struggled with it for as long as I can remember. I would struggle to stop at just 3 cookies. I could scarf down an entire bag of double stuf Oreos all by myself in one sitting. And I always knew that I ate primarily out of boredom or for psychological reasons. But I could never get a handle on it. The only time I seemed to be able to get a grip on it was when I was sort of forced via pain and working out when I started karate. Pain because I had braces that they were trying to get two years worth of work done in one year, so I got them double tightened each time, so I could barely eat for days after each orthodontist appointment. My senior year of high school was the best my body ever looked due to those two things. I have a big build. When people say some one is big boned, that isn’t a cop out for some people. I was truly the skinniest I probably could ever be as an adult that year, and I was still a larger size in women’s clothing. I will never be a size 0 or a size 2. It’s physically impossible for me.


That’s my graduation picture from high school, at the lowest weight I’ve ever been in my fully grown body. It’s now a pipe dream that I know I’ll never achieve again.

My husband pointed out when I got my non-identifying information from the adoption agency when I put in to search for my birth mom that it had reported on there that when I was in foster care that I was becoming irritable and the doctor recommended for the foster parents to put honey in my bottle….so….let’s analyze this a moment. I’m irritable (probably from the trauma of being ripped away from my mother and not knowing who these people are that are “taking care of me” and who knows how much they were cuddling me and giving me the emotional side of what a baby needs to thrive) so the doctor says to placate me with honey (something sweet)……fill the emptiness, the longing for what’s missing with sweets….hmm, no wonder I’m addicted psychologically to sweets.

Whenever I’m bored or feeling empty, lonely, unloved, unwanted, fearful, angry, self conscious, anxious….you name the negative emotion….I feel a snack attack coming on….

Until recently. With my life spiraling out of control, once again, without warning and with me working on self love and having worked so hard for 6 months to work my way out of a 3 year depression, I was not about to let myself slip back in to another one. So I began to cling to one thing I knew I could control, regardless of how psychologically hard it has always been for me, I knew I COULD physically control the food that goes in my mouth, or doesn’t. I put on 15 extra pounds while I was on an extra anti-depressant to get out of my 3 year depression. I was on that med for 6 months and gained those 15 pounds all within that time frame. And I wasn’t happy at the weight I was at prior to those extra 15 pounds. So now I was SUPERBLY depressed about my weight. But I was finally able to come off that medication in January of this year.

After coming off of that, starting my ADHD meds again (which also help me shed some weight), upping the dosage on one of my migraine preventative meds (which also helps me shed weight as well), starting to take diet pills and finally starting to become OCD over controlling what I eat, I am finally down the 15 pounds I had gained. I dipped down one extra pound earlier this week but put it back on in the past couple of days. The method I have been going g with has been to watch very carefully what I eat for many days in a row and then for a couple of days (typically weekends) to not count anything. I often gain back a couple of pounds during those days but then they come right off and then I lose another one or two during the week as well. So it has been working pretty well for me and has actually been keeping my metabolism tricked so that it doesn’t ever go in to that starvation mode since I am eating pretty well one or two days during the week. So even though the scale weight goes up a couple days a week, I am consistently losing weight week to week, which is the important part.

It has become something I am now OCD about and something I want to prove to myself and others that I can control and also something that I can have in my back pocket in case I ever have it thrown in my face if things ever get ugly in my life that I am not able to control my addiction. Since I have had my addiction my entire life, and we will always be exposed to sugar, I will always be tested with my addiction the rest of my life. I will never have the opportunity to fully walk away from it and stay away from it, which is easier once you kick it fully. I need to do this to help empower myself so that I feel I have a stance to take if and when I am ready. More likely when. I have been taking almost daily pictures of myself in the raw to help me with my analysis of my body image, to help me accept myself as I am and to know what I want to change. I am going to be completely raw and brave and post a collage of those selfies here of my daily selfies in different outfits over the time frames that I’ve been trying to lose weight so that I can see how I look in different outfits and know myself and help myself to become more comfortable in my own skin. Most of them I am not posing and dont have makeup on and don’t have my hair done etc….these were strictly for body image, not facial image. So I’m being very vulnerable in doing this.


2 more weeks until I get on a cruise ship and am surrounded by women in bikinis where I will feel self conscious, even though I made a point in telling my husband I don’t want to go on any excursions that make me have to be in a bathing suit or be around people in a bathing suit. But there are pools on the ship. It’s not like I can avoid being around beautiful bodies in bikinis sitting by the pool that I can never look like and never measure up to, or down to technically. This world just sucks for people like me who have to work so hard to even look somewhat average, and still know that I can never compare to so many of the other women out there and that it’s just yet another area of my life that I can never be first choice in to anybody. Classic Adoptee theme, always second best (if that), constant rejection feeling, always feeling unwanted….


My song of the day…Unpretty….by TLC…I don’t feel the exact lyrics, especially since they talk about feeling too skinny, that’s clearly not my problem, but still many of the lyrics and feelings of it resonate with the theme of my post…

Sunny Day Sweepin’ the Clouds Away


Sunny days sweeping the clouds away, on my way to where the air is sweet, can you tell me how to get, how to get to Sesame Street?

The busy bee….sniffing around for which flower smells the sweetest on any given day. Only the youngest flowers waver and turn towards the sunny direction. The wiser, more mature flowers stand their ground and stay facing one direction. For they are confident that each morning the sun will rise in the East and they will get their due, but they also welcome the shade as the earth moves direction and the sun then provides shade in the latter part of the day. The wisdom of the older sunflower knows that it needs rest and shade from the constant heat and scorching ray’s of the sun.

As I was watching episode 4 of Smallville that I just started as another series to binge watch, one of those darned synchronicities happened while I write this. Image upon image upon image of sunflowers appeared throughout the episode. In copious amounts.

I know I had taken quite the hiatus from writing here, but I think I am reminding my niche again. So hopefully this means I will be back with a vengeance (and you will see that word pop up also in my song of the day-lol). I have also been engaging in very stimulating conversation in the past week with one of my.former college professors on Facebook (the evil social media that pushed me towards coming here as I felt completely unheard and unseen in that platform). Though the people I used to expect to engage with me there still generally aren’t, it is interesting to see who creeps up out of the woodwork as I started to go through one of my meme tangent diatribes. It engaged that former professor of mine and he and I have really had some wonderful conversation and he has pulled some great things out of me in the past week, so that has been refreshing as well.

Please excuse the flightiness of my post here. My mind is still a bit raw and a gaggle of rampant emotions and ADHD thoughts that can’t be suppressed by my normal meds because what I’m dealing with right now is above and beyond the normal maintenance. So I may be a bit scattered for a while. It’s a step to get myself back here, never mind the editing or collecting my thoughts to be sure I am putting together something perfectly cohesive right now. So you will have to deal with the raw and mentally naked Alice in Wonderland right now. Hope that’s cool with y’all! And, can anyone tell me how to get to Sesame Street? I need to go back to someplace where life was a bit more simplistic…


My song of the day: Much in a similar manner as yesterday, it very much follows the daily word prompt (from last year on this day) and it also follows the theme of this post and what’s going on in my life right now. It is all melding together quite seamlessly, the daily prompts, the quotes, the songs, what I’m living through. Funny how things align some times and writing comes effortlessly at times.


My song of the day: Disappear by Evanescence…….This song is very personal for me for how I feel about someone in my life that struggles with addiction and my own demons with people and addiction (since it was addiction to prescription drugs that was the catalyst for my adoptive mom to become a background presence in my life but then to turn things around on me and become jealous and angry with me when I became closer to my adoptive NPD father). So continuing to hang around in the hopes that I will finally become more important than the addiction hurts over and over, every single day and I don’t know how long to hold on and keep hoping and believing I will win in the end and finally be number one in someone’s life for once.

Surviving Narcissism


It’s as if they aimed today’s word prompt right at me. Narcissism is something I am all too familiar with. I always knew my home life wasn’t quite right growing up. But it wasn’t until 3 years ago when my adoptive dad created a huge situation over my daughter’s communion, that resonated back to situations over my wedding that was 12 years prior to that, when I finally realized that he truly had Narcissistic Personality Disorder and exactly what that entailed. Prior to that, I was still blaming myself, questioning myself, second guessing myself, still wanting to think the best about my adoptive parents. But it was during that time frame that the veil came down and I could see everything so clearly for the first time. Everything that was dysfunctional about my perspectives were because of what THEY had done to me, not because of me being inherently a messed up person like they always led me to believe.


I have been working very hard for the past 3 years to find myself and learn to shed the voice of my Narcissist that always rules my head. I had struggled for a long time to figure out quite what my adoptive mother is. She herself doesn’t have Narcissistic Personality Disorder as she is not vain in the way my father is, she does not have a grandiose sense of self, she does not manipulate the whole world in the same way my father does. But I realized within these past 3 years many truths about her as well. I figured out that she will always defend my father over me, she will always believe my father over me, even when he has done so many horrific things to her. The only thing I really did to her was to not give her the kind of love she craved. I realized I was her pawn, she saw me as a way to get unconditional love rather than give it, since her own mother was incapable of giving it to her. And as an Adoptee, I needed extra love myself after the trauma I had gone through. And she didn’t give me the love I needed. So I didn’t have any love to give her back. I wasn’t being shown what love was by anyone.


I lost the only mother I knew at birth and had no language to reason why I was abandoned. She was replaced by strangers first for two months (foster care) until I was adopted. As I got older, when I didn’t show my adoptive mother the love she wanted from me, she then didn’t love me the way I needed love. I came to the conclusion that after her hysterectomy when I was 7 which led in to her becoming addicted to sleeping pills and tranquilizers, followed by the death of my grandfather when I was 9, my adoptive mother essentially disappeared from my life. Prior to that, she was the one who took me to dance class, she was the one who took me to vacation Bible school, she was the one who took me to Brownies. After that, it was my dad who took me to dance class, it was my dad who became the co-leader to my junior, Cadette and Senior Girl Scout Troops and it was my dad who was on the Band Parents Board of Directors when I was in high school. And then she went on to actually complain to me and be mad at me (read: jealous) when I had a better relationship with my dad. That was because he picked up the slack when she became non-existent. And then when he decided to use me as his surrogate wife/companion through all of these activities, her jealousy caused her to hate me. She saw me as some sort of competition for her husband.


I posted the above meme on one of my other posts, but this was how my life was as a child. A while ago I had given my mother this set for Mother’s Day that were these get to know you cards that have questions on them where she answers it, then mails it to me, I answer the same question and mail it back and she keeps them all together. She did them for a while, until one of them where the question asked: “What was the best gift you ever received”….Her answer: When your dad gave me my engagement ring at Christmas (and more details about that) My answer: My daughter……..She never sent another after that. She probably knew exactly how she looked with her response and then my response.

After recently reading an article on narcissistic parents, I realized that while my mother might not have Narcissistic Personality Disorder, I think she is a Narcissistic parent. She was parented by someone with Narcissistic Personality Disorder, my grandmother was a very wicked woman-thats another couple of blog posts in an of themselves. And she was married to a Narcissist. Plus she craved the love she wasn’t getting from either of her Narcissists, so she was trying to use Narcissists parenting techniques to extract the love from me that she wanted, or to use me for the attention she wanted from her husband. So I was really parented by two Narcissistic parents.


I realized within these past 3 years of my “Great Depression” that I am truly alone. My mother will never defend me. She will always be on his side. Even though he was in a relationship with another man while they’ve been married for maybe 15 years until the man passed away. Somehow, my father does no wrong in her eyes. She has never sided with me, but both of them expected me to side with them when they put me in the middle of all of their issues when I was a child, when they spoke badly about each other to me as if I was the pawn child between two divorced parents, yet they weren’t. The fighting was so bad between them, I wished for my.parents to get divorced, beginning from the time I was 7, and everyone told me be careful what I wished for and that was such a horrible thing to say. But they knew nothing of the war zone I grew up in. It may not have been physically abusive between them (they saved the wooden spoon and belt for me), the verbal and psychological torture was more than I could bear.


Deconstructing every little reaction and thought process, now that I know all of my background and all of the effect it had had on me, has had a harrowing effect on the jail cell of my mind as well. As if it wasn’t hard enough to figure out that all of the your world were not who you thought they were, or that you were deceived in some huge way all within a short period of time (the reasons for my depression-other people involved as well)- to learn to dissect how all of these elements of these important people in my life affect who I am and how I can change those patterns is an entirely different ballgame.


This one came up just yesterday in a small spat between my husband and I. I was trying to clarify something he was asking me to do on the phone to be sure I was understanding him properly. He got frustrated with me not understanding him or asking too many questions which upset me. But I do that in order to avoid doing it wrong because I don’t want him getting mad at me for doing it wrong because then I feel stupid which triggers emotions that lead me right back to my dad as well as an abusive ex boyfriend I had. So much of who I am stems back to my childhood.

And then there is always the narcissism of my husband’s ex-wife that I get to deal with from time to time. And such irony that this is the topic of the day when today was one of the days I had to deal with her when I hadn’t seen her in about a year and a half. Had to see her today because of my stepsons gender reveal party for his new baby that his girlfriend is pregnant with. And she is such a narcissist that she had her daughter from another man ask my step daughters friend to give them a ride to the party (even though my stepdaughter hasn’t spoken to her in over 4 years), her friend agreed only because it was my stepdaughters sister asking her. But then this morning my husband’s ex-wife (who has never had her driver’s license), had the nerve to tell the friend who was driving them that she needed to be home an hour and a half after the party started….Beggars can’t be choosers you narcissist. My stepdaughter took everything she had in her and stood up to the mother she doesn’t speak to and told her she’d have to get an Uber or another ride home because she wasn’t going to make her best friend leave the party early just because she made other plans, the day of no less.

I am learning how to cope with my Narcissists and learning how replace their voices with my own. Most people can only do what my stepdaughter has done, which is cut them out of their lives. I guess I’m a chicken for not being able to do that. The added guilt that was programmed in to me early in life of them being my savior’s as an Adoptee might have done a number on my psyche over it as well. I just try to remain three steps ahead all the time (while everyone else thinks I over think everything and think I’m nuts for thinking every single thing is a game or has a hidden agenda), and I will keep working on healing my reactions and my thoughts as much as I can and to the best of my ability. But most people cut the narcissism out of their lives. I guess I still don’t believe I’m worthy of love since I continue to torture myself by keeping them in my life. I keep still believing somehow that they still do enough good for me or try the best they can. They still have enough people convinced to convince me that they aren’t the worst people in the world. And so, I stick around. Unable to have enough self-esteem to believe that no one else knows what I’ve endured. No one else could possibly see them the way I do because they still only see a fraction of their true side. Because my Narcissists are the actors extraordinare.

My Song of the Day: This songs holds such irony for me because the person who is Narcissus in my life is the reason I don’t use a Hammer and a Nail enough and that I do look behind my ears for the green too much and that my sweat smells clean more than it should. While he did make me work in one sense and I don’t have a sense of entitlement, I also wasn’t ever taught the basics of life and simple things that should be common sense around the house types of chores for a grown woman. Because he never really did much of anything for himself either, he just called someone to do it for him, and so the incompetence was passed right along…

“Hammer And A Nail”
By: The Indigo Girls

Clearing webs from the hovel
a blistered hand on the handle of a shovel
I’ve been digging too deep, I always do.
I see my face on the surface
I look a lot like narcissus
A dark abyss of an emptiness
Standing on the edge of a drowning blue.
I look behind my ears for the green
Even my sweat smells clean
Glare off the white hurts my eyes
Gotta get out of bed get a hammer and a nail
Learn how to use my hands, not just my head
I think myself into jail
Now I know a refuge never grows
From a chin in a hand in a thoughtful pose
Gotta tend the earth if you want a rose.
I had a lot of good intentions
Sit around for fifty years and then collect a pension,
Started seeing the road to hell and just where it starts.
But my life is more than a vision
The sweetest part is acting after making a decision
I started seeing the whole as a sum of its parts.
My life is part of the global life
I’d found myself becoming more immobile
When I’d think a little girl in the world can’t do anything.
A distant nation my community
A street person my responsibility
If I have a care in the world I have a gift to bring.

Rich stay rich, rich control needy, needy remain poor


As if healing from the trauma of adoption and narcissistic adoptive parents weren’t enough, and having the chemical imbalances of anxiety and ADHD that weren’t discovered and treated till I was in my 20s and 30s, let’s add to that a child who has Asperger’s Autism. Please don’t get me wrong. I love my daughter, and nothing can ever change that, no diagnosis could make me love her any less. But I obviously must have convinced Kuk Sa Nim and the Universe that I am some sort of Warrior that has all the strength in the world with the largest set of shoulders. And that synopsis snapshot is only a tiny little picture of it all really. Yet somehow I remain drug, alcohol and cigarette free…not sure how still….you might want to check back with me again on that one in another 10 years….

So the past couple of days have brought on a reminder of exactly the way the world runs. That the rich rule the world. The rich get to dictate and control those who are dependant on them for care and those who are needed always remain repressed by the rich. What does that mean in layman’s terms. Here has been my battle this week.

My daughter receives her medications through her pediatrician for her Autism (anxiety). He requires a 6 month med checkup. Ok. No big deal. Due to the fact that I have ADHD and a very stressful job when it comes to fine details that keep my head swimming, I often forget when it is that I need to make an appointment (and I can’t make them ahead of time due to my schedule because I’d end up having to cancel and reschedule anyway because my schedule is constantly in flux due to it’s shifting nature). So it ends up that the need for renewal of her medication is often the way that I am reminded that I need to make an appointment. I just can’t keep that detail worked out. And it’s not like the doctors doctor ever sends any notice like the dentist or the vet or the eye doctor does. So I tried to renew her prescription through my pharmacy and it was denied twice. So I called her pediatricians office. The front desk told me the doctor may not do it because she’s due for her med check and they don’t want to be held liable for patients with psychiatric and ADHD issues and medication dosages. After arguing with her (which I will splay out my logic in a second) her medication has still not been refilled 2 days later….So I guess I will be on the search for another pediatrician who will work with her diagnosis and continue to prescribe her medications.

Here is my logic on this one….

So they claim they don’t want to be held “liable and responsible” for mis-dosaging of psychiatric and ADHD patients….Yet I tell them my daughter is out of her medication and they won’t even renew it for a month until I can get her in with an appointment. So they’d rather be liable for a 10 year old to have withdrawn from a medication she’s now been on for several years and that all I’m going to do is walk in and tell them that she’s doing fine on it. If there was a problem with the dosage to where there major problems at home due to her dosage being too low because she had outgrown the dosage, I would have already made the appointment. They hadn’t upped the medication dosage, she’s been on the same thing, so worst case scenario is that it’s not as effective because of her weight differentiation….So….sounds like they are more interested in making their money than in the real care of their patient, who will have to suffer withdrawal. Luckily, I and my husband are on the same medication just double the dosage and we are cutting our pills in half. It probably changes the extended release portion of it, but it’s better than watching my 10 year old go through withdrawal from a medication I’ve been through the withdrawal of and it is not pleasant. I’m utterly appalled by this doctors behavior……

I am luminescent


I, myself, by the very definitions,

Am luminescent.

I have evolved to new forms.

Converged what is genealogically encoded in me,

Merged with that which is environmentally subjected upon me,

And I radiate from within.

It has only been the chemical changes, the motions and changes of the subatomic particles within me

Rather than any heat induction (read: love)

Only the cold I am left with,

That illuminate my soul

For all to bear witness.

My song of the day:

“One Light”
By: Skid Row

There’s a sound in my head
Holy wine, breakin’ bread
between time and what we said
drifts the innocence we’ve shed

In this moment there’s a day
for a sad and broken babe
there’s a fracture on this hallowed ground where we lay

One light burns, one light fades
Behind the door are better days
When the light shines on me
I’ll know the world still turns
One light burns, one light burns

There’s a prayer on the wall
One by one say them all
Why we run before we crawl
Stands the reason that we fall
In the flower there’s a field
Sublime but so surreal
There’s a fracture on this sacred ground to be healed

One light burns, one light fades
Behind the door are better days
When the light shines on me
I’ll know the world still turns
One light burns, one light burns
One light burns


One light burns, one light fades
Behind the door are better days
When the light shines on me
I’ll know the world still turns





I have always had an obsession with chess and chess boards. I only played my first chess game a few years ago. I don’t play that often. My husband was the first to teach me the general rules and to play a few games with me. I looked up more of the rules online and have played some of the computerized games of chess. I’m not very good. But I feel like I should be. I have the intelligence to be good at it. But my ADHD (which is a lot worse than I or a lot of people think it is) causes me to not think moves through very well unless I take a very long time to think one move through for a very long period of time because I have to really think through all of the potential moves that could lie ahead. And then my anxiety takes over because of the amount of time that it takes me per move and I end up often making boneheaded moves. And so my potential skills at chess are thwarted by my disorders. I am medicated for both. But it is so frustrating when I know it could and should be something I could be good at it.

I just taught my 10 year old daughter how to play, who had Asperger’s and is a flat out genius, and she beat me on her third game…ever! And it’s not just a matter of me not being good, she has the brain for this game and I hope she can get past her sore loser syndrome and learn some perseverence and persistence because she is already able to mentally predict the moves she should make based on what moves she predicts her opponent to make. She fascinates me by how advanced her brain is at such a young age. She is utterly amazing. I would love to see her make something of this.

I just emailed my doctor in the hopes that my ADHD medication dosage can be increased. I just resumed my medication for it this month as I hadn’t been taking it for several years. I hope that a higher dosage will help my concentration in all areas of my life, including chess.

Radiant heart



From now on, this is me.

Today I met with a friend. A friend who sees that I have locked my heart away inside and put boxes, and cement and ice and steel around it. I have done this to protect my heart because it became weary and Leary of everyone after being hurt so much. She told me I need to learn to love myself. And to do that I need to unlock my heart. I haven’t known how to love myself, because I didn’t have good examples. I wasn’t shown proper love by most people, especially those who were supposed to love me. So working on learning HOW to love myself has to be my first mission.

I have a radiant heart underneath all of the layers of building material that I have buried it in. My heart still wants to see the good in people, despite how much they’ve hurt me. My heart still gives people more chances than they deserve, despite how much they’ve hurt me. My heart still does the right thing and takes the high road, despite how much they’ve hurt me.


I have gone through the dark night of the soul. I am on the upside, I am emerging. I have seen through the veil of those who have ill intentions where I am concerned. I can decipher the realities from the masked half truths or cover-ups that some of those in my life try to pass off on me. I will no longer acquiesce in the manner that certain characters desire from me. I will no longer kow-tow to their way of life simply to be the peace-keeper.  I choose to stand in my own light. And if anyone doesn’t like it, that is their own issue to deal with, and I won’t let it affect me any longer, even if they attempt to turn the tables on me. I will stand firm from now on. I will live the life that is right for me.


I’ve had too many people throughout my life cause me to feel ashamed of who I am, and cause me to feel that my emotional mood swings were too much to handle. My parents allowed the emotions, they allowed me to cry. But I was never to speak up for myself to them. If I were to ever “challenge” anything they said or be upset with them or call them out on something they did wrong, they reacted explosively and would hang up on me, stop speaking to me, or tell me “I’m sorry you feel that way”. Never would they accept any responsibility for their own actions. And so I grew up thinking and feeling as if I was always the one who was wrong in all situations. Even if I knew logically that it wasn’t true, that was how I reacted and felt emotionally in my heart. That was my physiological reaction every time I had a confrontation with anyone in my life, and still is.

After growing up in that atmosphere, my friends and boyfriends couldn’t deal with my emotional roller coasters. They blatently told me that I was difficult to deal with. I finally medicated for my anxiety, which is why I would cry every day, the emotional sensivity of everything that raced through my head was so overwhelming that it would be all-in-one using and flood my tear ducts. The anti-anxiety medication helped that aspect. I will always be an emotional person as I am an empath, but I don’t cry every day any longer.


I have learned to be a little more secure in being who I am. When people take up issue with a personality traits of mine, or a behavioral quirk, unless it is something that I truly believe needs changing I am learning that their issue with it is their issue. So what if I get too loud sometimes, so what if I am more emotional than many people, so what if I dress flamboyantly, so what if I am eccentric. I am unapologetically an oddball. If people can’t deal with that about me, then I have no need for them in my life. Normal people are boring to me anyway. And judgmental people are too much like my parents and I have no room for more of that nonsense in my life.


When I finally start loving myself and allowing my radiant heart to shine through, perhaps it will allow me to show everyone else in my life the proper way to treat me and that I won’t be walked all over the way people have stooped to low levels when ever there is a disagreement between myself and any one else in my life. I have taught them how to treat me this far. I have shown them that I don’t like confrontation and thus that they have an upper hand any time that we don’t see eye to eye. And I won’t allow that any longer.


I am proud of my scars. I am proud of my past. I am proud of the battles I have fought. They build character. They give my musicianship depth. They allow me to relate to more people in life’s travels. I am resilient. Many people would have crumbled and been much less functional in my life’s shoes. I am proud that I have become who I am in the face of constant adversity. Now is my time. It is my time to turn the tables and choose what I will allow to affect me. It is my time to choose my own destiny. It is my time to block out choices that others have made for my life and for their own that have affected me, and to counteract those choices with choices of my own that will be the most beneficial for me. I choose to let my radiant heart shine, but to still be able to protect it from hurt. I choose me.


Father Time


When the daily word prompt of “noise” came up a few weeks ago, it prompted me to look back in to my college assignments because there was a paper I had written that I knew fit that topic. In doing so, I began re-reading through all of my old writings and I was quite astounded at the time warp I went through, in many different aspects. In some ways, I was blown away by my progressiveness as a 20 year old (which was 20 years ago), reading through other papers I lamented that I felt I had almost lost some of my intellect. I realized, after percolating on that one for a while, that due to my career that involves constant interaction with children, that certain areas of my brain just haven’t been stimulated as much in recent years. I am finding those areas re-stimulated by writing this blog, and for that I am eternally grateful. Another aspect that I found to be quite notable as well in my time warp is that some situations in my life haven’t changed a bit. This facet is the one I would like to impart today. I quite literally LOLed when I came across this following Sociology paper because the title of the paper is literally what my monthly goal to work on for the month of March was that is written on my chalk board at home.


Hereis my Sociology paper from my Undergrad…(the memes are added post script, aka:now!!!)

Time Management
The topic of time management is currently one that is quite a problem in my own life. Many people either go to one extreme or another in my experiences. There are those who take on too many tasks, and those who are very lax in their approach to life. With most people I know who take either route, no one is completely happy with how they manage their time. This concept follows the saying that the grass is always greener on the other side of the mountain.

I am the type of person who takes on more then I can often handle, and then I am faced with how to balance my time. When people become overwhelmed they are often offered the advice to make a list in order of top priority to least important priority of the lot. I try to set priorities and take care of the tasks highest on my list, but this is quite a problem for me because I have a difficult time deciding what is more or less important. If I didn’t feel something was worth my time I would not take it on, but because I do, you can see why this decision is tough for me.
I then attempt to make a list of what needs to be done first chronologically, but as I am at this current moment, I am often swamped with everything to be due at once. Once again, I use a cliché to describe this situation. When it rains, it pours.

Once again I am faced with another decision of how to get everything done so I look to set up a schedule where I can devote time to each task on hand. But, it is quite difficult to plan ahead because things always come up unexpectedly and change the course of one’s pre-charted destination.
I am then faced with the decision that I must make sacrifices in order to accomplish everything in due time. This again is a most difficult chore because although I do have some time to sacrifice, that time is my last spare moments of “free” time that I often spend with friends, or by merely relaxing. I feel that this is also an essential part of my wellbeing because if I was to work every waking moment without time for relaxation and fun, I would breakdown and not be able to function properly. Yet, if I were to sacrifice that fun time, I may not be as stressed because I would be getting everything done on time.
For people like me, I feel that we would not be as fulfilled if we did not take on as much as we do because we would feel we would be missing something. Yet if we take care of everything in a timely fashion, we are required to sacrifice “fun” time in order to accomplish all the tasks we have taken on, and that is self-defeating when we are speaking of fulfillment.

Now to look at the other side of the coin, there are those who are quite laid back in their ideals on how to handle their time. Many people I have spoken with who take things as they come, and don’t go out of their way to accomplish them are often unhappy as well. They often feel they do not have enough initiative to complete the necessary tasks in life and this disturbs them. Yet, they don’t seem to desire, or maybe even know how to take action. These people are not go-getters, but they do not stress as often as the compulsively busy people do.
So where is the happy medium in all of this? This is quite a question because it varies from person to person. If one changes from one extreme to another, he will often find the grass is not always greener on the other side, but it is quite difficult to find a perfect mean between the two extremes of behavior. And if one decides one wants to take action and change his ways, how does he go about breaking his already known ways. This is a very difficult task because we do not know whether the difference between a fast paced busy-body and a laid back person is genetic or learned, and that, I believe, is what we must first find out before anyone can make that change.

End paper…..

You can see even then I was questioning what was my genetics and what was my environment, due to being adopted. The questions ran so deep and permeated everything I did. I now know the answers in some ways. I know I am highly genetic in that I am very much like my birth parents. In this particular topic, I will say that my adoptive Dad is very motivated and my adoptive Mom is not. Both of my birth parents are highly motivated and hard working people. So I would say that it is a very difficult trait to “unlearn”  or reverse.


In recent years, I have been trying to learn how to say no more often, especially to things that I really don’t want to do and I am trying to learn how to prioritize a little better. One thing that remains is that I am still often inefficient with my time.

I realized only a few years ago that I do have ADHD. I never realized this and I got by fairly well as a child. I did well in school and learned techniques to get by. But in some ways, I think the pressures of being an adult seem to have brought out the worst in me as far as this syndrome goes and it became quite apparent that I was either more of a flake than I thought or there was something else going on. And it finally came to light that I did have ADHD. And look and behold, when I found my birthdad, I came to find out that my birth brothers had it. So that is genetic to me.

I had dabbled with medication for it and have gone on and off for various reasons, cost kept changing and at times was very steep, at one point they made my Dr write special letters to explain why I needed it. It became more of a hassle than it was worth. I just went back on it again this month and luckily neither of those things are an issue anymore. With the medication I do find I am able to stay on task a bit more and get more accomplished. I am more efficient with my time and I also seem to have more well formulated thought processes as well. Things seem to connect better for me in my brain that never did before. For example, I’ve seen the movie Inception a few times now. I often forget people’s names from movies. One would think I would remember the girl’s name in particular from this movie though for starters. Her name is Ariadne. I named my clarinet Ariadne in high school and since then I have used that name as an alias and in many things, including as my business name (Ariadne’s Music). So, forgetting that tragedy that I couldn’t even remember her name, my husband got me the totem of the little top that Leo DiCaprio’s character carries with him for our anniversary and gave it to me this past weekend.


So it got me thinking about the movie and I only realized that her name was Ariadne when I looked up the movie to look up what her totem was and then I was disgusted with myself that I had forgotten her name again. So beyond that, what I was really getting at with how the ADHD meds had helped me was that last night I was watching the new show that I am binging on, The Librarians, and this episode dealt with the Minotaur and the labyrinth and the string. This is Ariadne’s story, though they never make mention of her name. All of a sudden it Dawn’s on me the connection between the name of Ariadne in Inception and why she is named as such. Because she creates the labyrinth within the dreamscapes of Inception. It abhors me that I never figured that out before considering I am so well versed in the story of Ariadne. And it never once came to me while I was watching the movie Inception. It took ADHD medication to bridge that gap in my brain and an episode of another television show that dealt with a labyrinth and a similar setting, somewhat, to make this connection. My brain is fascinating sometimes.

However, I am most inefficient with my words as well. I collect quotes because I admire those who can summarize a worldly concept and be so concise in thought as to do it in just a line or two. They can get across a punchline that it would take me an entire dissertation to expound my thoughts. Some day I hope to learn the art of being succinct. That day is clearly not today!!!