10 posts tagged “me”

Christina and the sexy bartender.

The fun hasn't stopped! I love my best friend!

Christina, plus Matthew and I went out for drinks tonight! We dropped our darling baby William off at the mother-in-law's so we could have some adult fun this time. Last night at Chuck. E. Cheese was great but this was great on a whole different level. I haven't let loose and had this much fun in ... like ... forever!

Christina says I'm a "cute" drunk. I don't know. Matthew says my IQ drops off by at least 20 points. He's probably closer. Either way, whether I'm dumb drunk or cute drunk, I had fun with my best friend at a downtown Sacramento pub tonight. Bless Matthew's heart for putting up with us, especially me, the lightweight.
 

Drunk.

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My mind is highly active and in just about every way. I'm a daydreamer and I have A.A.D.D. - Adult Attention Deficit Disorder. No, it doesn't mean I have some mysterious and irreversible brain defect. A.D.D. is real.

The definition of A.D.D. and/or A.D.H.D in children and adults.

impulsivity, hyperactivity and/or inattention.

The diagnostic criteria are subjective and include behavior which might be caused by a wide variety of factors, ranging from brain defects to allergies to giftedness. Family history plays a factor too.

I can pay attention most of the time. In fact, because of my A.D.D. disorder, I've learned some amazing coping and learning mechanisms. Yet, sometimes I cant' finish a book or I won't be able to focus on what someone says to me, process a lecture on human biology even though I can hear every word, or even finish a sentence without going "wait, what was I talking about?"

Even now, as I write this, I am thinking about and balancing my bank account.

They say that Sir Isaac Newton, Leonardo Da Vinci, Ansel Adams, Beethoven, Thomas Edison, Alexander Graham Bell, Albert Einstein, Benjamin Franklin, Galileo, Ernest Hemingway, Abraham Lincoln, Nostradamus, Edgar Allen Poe, Picasso, Socrates and many other famous figures in history had Attention Deficit Disorder.

You might also find it interesting, but some more modern figures such as Stevie Wonder, Bill Cosby, Jim Carrey,  Dustin Hoffman, Danny Glover, Steven Spielberg,  Will Smith, "Magic" Johnson, John Lennon, Robin Williams, Kirk Douglas, and Tom Cruise also have been diagnosed with Attention Deficit Disorder.

I constantly find ways to occupy my mind. I sometimes draw, paint, read, or type. I have many hobbies. Sometimes I set aside another hobby for a more interesting one that draws more attention from my mind.

When I'm in the process of mundane activities, words, sentences, and thoughts galore fly through my mind. When I'm out walking, I'm thinking of creative inventions, ways to better the world, solving mathematical problems, debating conservatives versus liberals, thinking about my friend's personal lives and pyschologically assessing their words from previous conversations.

When I'm in public I'll watch people, read their body language, note the way they walk, what type of car they drive, did they use their turn signal, was it a cell phone or an i-pod, what form of payment did they used to pay for their Double tall, no foam, extra hot latte.

It's not that I'm being creepy or eve' s dropping. It's just that my mind constantly takes note, wether I like it or not.

Then at night, when I finally say to myself: self, it's pushing 1am, it's time to go to bed already, and I climb in bed, usually lying there for a large amount of time, with my eyes closed just thinking and thinking and thinking until I start thinking slower and slower and less and less and finally, I sleep. I don't reach R.E.M sleep until the middle of the night, sometimes near dawn. Even in my sleep my mind is active. I think that is one reason why I sleep so late, I sleep like the dead and it's near to impossible to wake me. By the time I do reach R.E.M. sleep, my mind is exhausted.

A.D.D. is also linked to depression, anxiety and dyslexia. Which I have encounters with all three from time to time.

Sometimes its really frustrating having A.D.D.

I saw a therapist a few years ago. He diagnosed me as A.D.D when I came in asking for anti-depressants to quiet my mind. I was shocked, yet it made sense. I had no idea I had the disorder all these years. Suddenly everything became clear.

I can remember as a child being extremely gifted in art, scoring above average on IQ tests, and at the age of 10, having the vocabulary and composition skills of an adult. Yet, I couldn't make myself concentrate on my studies. I'd be more interested in drawing detailed sketches of horses, lions, or birds on my notebooks than learning about science. I'd be more interested in reading about indigenous tribes of Africa in the National Geographic Magazine, slipped under my history book, than doing a required essay on the American Revolution. 

As I write this, my mind wants to rush through it quickly so I can move on to the next thing. I find myself having to slow down, back up, re-read, change a few things but mostly breath slow, and quiet myself, so that my thoughts can flow on time.

One thought after another. Like waves.

I also can remember struggling to no end with math. I grasped the concepts, the equations, yet... somehow my mind was blocked. I'd see a number or a letter, but it would turn into another. I'd understand algebra, yet I was getting the answer to every problem wrong.

My therapist says that the reason this was so was because of the dyslexia that is often accompanied by A.D.D.  My mind blocks numbers and certain letters, even words or sounds, and switches them around. He asked me if I sometimes switch the first letters of words around to say things like "Nave a Hice Day."

"I do it all the time," I said.

Then my therapist explained to me I wasn't alone. Thousands, even millions of people have A.D.D. He told me it's quite common and actually the mark of someone extraordinary.

Me? Extraordinary? Wow.

Still though, not a day goes by that my Attention disorder and dyslexia doesn't drive me bonkers. Sometimes I just want to be like the standard person and learn and interact on the same curve as the general population does. But that can't happen. I've learned ways to cope and embrace my disorder and use it to my advantage to get through and complete the day's duties without being distracted. On days where it gets to be too much and my mind won't stop, I find ways to quite my mind through meditation, silence and slow breathing.

All in all, I'm proud of my disorder. Because of the fact I have A.D.D., I'm an artist, a photographer, a writer, a poet, a singer, a song writer, a horse master and expert, even my own psychologist. I'm wise for my age and I have a lot of potential to turn my never-ending, rambling thoughts of inventions, dreams and ideas into realities.

Now if I could just believe in myself.

I highly recommend this book if you have A.D.D or think you have A.D.D.

Daniel G. Amen

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This is me looking out to sea, see? Blue.

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I just want to clear something up. A lot of people compliment me on my eyes. I like this very much, trust me. I think my eyes are probably my best physical attribute and it makes me feel good to hear I have nice eyes.

Ok so, the issue at hand is the color of my eyes. I've had a lot of questions such as "Do you wear contacts? How is it your eyes are so blue? What is the true color of your eyes?"

• They are blue.

• No I do not wear contacts.

• I got my blue eyes from my very blue-eyed father and my blue-eyed mother. It's genetic.

You know how the ocean reflects the sky and looks blue? My eyes also act like the ocean in that they are very reflective of surrounding light and color. If I am in a forest, they look green. If I am outside on a sunny day, the blue stands out. If I'm in Starbucks, they look hazel or brown because of the warm, dark "espresso'esk" colors in the cafe.

My eyes have been green, hazel, bright blue, brown even. All sorts of colors. But their true color is light, bright blue. I'm really proud of my eyes.

I was staring at this today in amazement. Grass trapped in small crystals of ice. Breath taking.

I've taken up a fascination to photography. I've always admired it, thought myself an alright photographer. But now it's become an obsession and I must know, learn and experience more. I can't get enough. There is so much beauty to capture in every fleeting moment. The longer I wait, the more beauty escapes me.

Show us pure emotion.
Submitted by Roxy.

14 minutes after I gave birth.

When my Son William was born, it was the most powerful, happy moment of my life. I was in labor for 15.5 hours. By the time I gave birth to him, I was so tired I could barely keep my eyes open to hold him. Shortly after this moment, I succumbed to the exhaustion, with him sleeping in my arms, just as tired as I.

When I woke up two hours later, William was in my husband's arms. I asked to hold my baby again. Matthew gently handed him back to me and I began to breastfeed him and study his face. There is no love like this love. At the moment of his birth, at 5:01 on October 19th, 2005, my life changed. It was the happiest day of my life. This is my pure emotion.

Butters

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It's official. Shadow is now Butters.

We (my husband and I) decided Butters fits his personality best. It's a cute name, I think. Smokey and the Bandit would have been great, but seriously... I think I would have begun to hate that name after a while.

All the other names were so awesome and cute. It was not easy picking out his name but we took our time, weighed all the decisions carefully, and so....

Butters it is.

Some of my art

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Sometimes I am really good at painting pretty pictures. Not just literally but also metaphorically. For example, I can draw or sketch just about anything, to make it look how I want. And I can also paint my life to look a certain way. Sometimes it works. Sometimes I can arrange the pieces of my life and place the brush stroke where it should go and everything seems to fall into place, as it should. Because I'm painting my life as it is meant to be, from my heart, as a true artist and person' does.

But lately my attempts to paint a false picture have been failing because I've been falling apart at the seams, slowly but surely. Lately, all I've been doing is painting a mask over how I really feel, which isn't pretty. I've been putting on a big smile, a cheesy, goofy grin and saying to the world and those around me "I'm fine." But truthfully I'm not. Truth be told, I'm really struggling inside.

For some reason I beat myself up more than I should and I see my inner struggles as some form of weakness. My pride has already taken a major beating in the past two years, and I ask myself: why should I put myself out there on a plate, for everyone to scrutinize, judge and pick me raw? (When actually most of my friends and family would do neither.) For some reason I distrust and jump to conclusions, I expect to be let down, when actually I have a wonderful network of friends and family to reach out to... if I would only stop focusing on my "poor me" negative outlook and actually see that!

I guess I just don't want to admit I have problems and I need help sometimes. I guess I get sick of struggling and I just want my life to be "comfortable" and not ever have to suffer, or have my problems just "go away."

Bright Eyes

People say to me "Oh you're so wonderful, so kind, so beautiful. You have it all." And I do have many blessings. I really do. But I also have a life and feelings within. I have my demons. I am not perfect. I have flaws to contend with and negative personality traits that I need to change. But it's so hard for me to admit those things sometimes! Sometimes I just want to paint a "pretty picture." Because that's easier and I won't have to actually deal with my problems. And often I do. And I can't do that. Because denial is a lonely, dead end place.

I want to be strong for people and also let them see me at my low points, and allow them to help me. I want to be able to lift people's spirits in return and shed my wounded pride. And I want to be a strong, happy person on the inside, smiling not just outwardly by inwardly too. For myself and for others.

Sounds Of Silence

I don't think that anything I say now most people have not been through already. Every day we confront ourselves, or at least we should. I think I am too hard on myself. I think these inner battles I wage with depression, low self-esteem and flawed character traits are normal things to feel and deal with. In fact, the best therapists and psychologists   have told me so. I am just really bad about living in state's of denial and I have got to stop it.

I'm going to admit something here:

There's a negative, pessimistic, cynical side to me.
And it's got to go. Because I'm tired of it.  

Me and my best friend Christina on a cliff by the sea.

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I think I have learned a lot about friendship in the past year. I think I have finally realized what it means to be a friend and to have friends. I think I have grown and matured enough to know see these things clearly now. But I also realize that I've made some grave mistakes and I've lost wonderful friendships... because I neglected to care.

My motherly friend, Marie

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The same neglect, loss of interest, lack of caring, lack of compassion, lack of understanding, lack of respect that I dished out to the friends that I failed in the past, I now experience from the other side.

My dear friend Cate (aka Cupcate) with William at his 1st Birthday Party

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I've been noticing lately, more than I ever have before, that friends whose obvious lack of interest and rude behaviors leave me feeling not only angry and hurt, but also, very remorseful and full of great regret.

My sweet and caring friend, Martin

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It makes me realize that I did these things to people once too and I made people hurt, feel neglected and forgotten. I don't want to be that kind of friend ever again and I never will. But I wish more people would see just how wonderful it truly is to have trusted, kindred friends to call upon, rely upon and cherish.

I do see these things now. However, I can never recover the faith that was lost in me by those I failed.

Friendship is...