Clever idea!

My smart phone now has an alarm that talks to me. It's meant to tell me the time and temperature, but I can replace the text with anything I like. I've converted this alarm to make it ADD-friendly!

First thing in the morning, it tells me that I want to get out of bed to work on my priorities and make the world a better place. Thirty-five (35) minutes before I leave for work, my favorite alarm reminds me that I've been working on my priorities one day at a time, so breathe and keep moving forward. On weekends, the morning alarm tells me it's time to get up and enjoy my weekend. At work, I choose not to disturb or amuse co-workers with these verbal alarms, so I set them to pop up visually. After work, I have more alarms that remind me to return to priorities, get ready for the next day, and "Turn off the computer and go to bed. A well-rested Frances is a happy and productive Frances."

Friends, of course, laugh and ask, "What is that?" when the alarms go off during dinner or discussions. Yet I find these alarms useful and kindly motivating. The grief group finds them absolutely wonderful, too. As it turns out, ADD isn't the only thing that challenges the memory!

Community

Since we met two years ago, I have enjoyed the company of J, who is smart and fun. For ten months, J and I have shared living quarters. For the last 2-1/2 weeks, she has been out of town. Even on vacation, she is ridiculously productive. If there is something called anti-ADD, she has it.

For the first several days of J's absence, I felt free to pursue my own interests without with or around her concerns. As time passed, I missed her presence. I also noticed that my productivity level at home plummeted. Although my intentions were good and the tasks were things I could do on my own, I found myself unable to concentrate. Craving company, I turned to social media, leaving most of my tasks yet undone.

Exasperated, I called friend B who lives nearby. I asked if she could just sit with me while I went through paperwork. She agreed, adding that she would even be willing to file! With B's help, I put the most urgent and emotionally laden papers into order. She offered that she would return in the New Year, bringing colored files to replace the manila ones I have been using. She stayed a bit longer to chat while I managed other tasks on my own. She asked if I needed her help with the dishes. I laughed and said no, I'd be okay with those.

As it happens, B is part of a small group of us who continue to meet weekly for coffee before work (months after I started the group as a way to distract myself from the feeling of dread for too many difficult tasks in the day). Along with other friends, I was invited to the home of B and her spouse for Thanksgiving dinner. I had a wonderful time eating, laughing, and enjoying their company. When I mentioned to B that I needed more "community" in my life, she said, "They're called friends."

Thanksgiving is my favorite of holidays. A day set aside specifically for gratitude, along with food, family, and friends is meaningful and wonderful. By telephone I spoke with family and friends who live in other towns and states to wish them a happy day of thanks and to express my gratitude for them in my life.

Friday again brought meager attempts at "getting stuff done." Yay, J arrived home Friday night! I talked with her about this post, which by then, was partially written. She reflected on past feelings of self judgment for her dislike of being alone. And I stated the obvious. Human beings are social creatures; we need one another.

Saturday afternoon, while J worked, I met with B and a few others for coffee and a discussion around having closer, more connected relationships with neighbors and friends. Ironic because we drove an hour to get there! Great discussion and some baby steps made.

It's late Sunday morning, and I still have plenty of tasks before me. But J is here, B and I were on the phone briefly this morning, and one of the members from Saturday's discussion is joining me for more discussion and a walk of my dog this coming week.

As I sit here, watching with guilt as J cleans the kitchen from top to bottom, I'm left with a few thoughts. Like most things in life, community is fluid. Sometimes we feel that we have too much and sometimes too little. At some point, being alone becomes overwhelming because I become aware of all that needs to be done without the ability to manage it all. I have many gifts which become only more meaningful when I notice, honor, and appreciate them. Frustrations and disappointments are temporary conditions that I can observe, experience, or change.

Frances and Frannie

It can be amazing to look at my life in hindsight.

For as long as I can remember, anxiety has been in my life. Aware that anxiety is an uncommon response to stress, I assumed that anxiety "happened" to me under certain circumstances. In response, I developed coping mechanisms that "protected" me from facing certain fears. Not surprisingly, the fears and anxiety increased over time. Clearly, something needed changing.

When my partner D was diagnosed in January 2008 with Acute Leukemia (fast-growing blood cancer), one of my first thoughts was, "It's not about me this time." Cancer clearly is more serious than any trouble I faced or feared facing, and I rose to the occasion. During her 20 months of treatment, anxiety came about for me on only two occasions.

As D's family caregiver, I could not be in her presence if I developed something as simple as the common cold; her diminished immune system couldn't manage it. When my nose began to drip or my throat began to itch, I suffered great fear that I had been a carrier of a cold. I head to the nearest medical provider, who relieved my guilt by assuring me that I had an allergy, which is not contagious.

Since D's medical care was enormously expensive, the insurance company was persistently cruel in their attempts to avoid payment. This meant a legal conflict with vast amounts of documentation and the hope that we would prevail. My anxiety level skyrocketed. Despite knowingly facing the end of her life, D led the charge to secure the financial future of her heirs, of which I am one.

When I began to face some challenges that I had been avoiding for the two years since D's death, anxiety re-appeared, undermining the courage and wisdom that I had gained as her caregiver and then as her widow. For nine months, I met with my therapist, spoke with loving family and friends, read from Pema Chodron and other helpful books, and faced the challenge one day at a time. Despite my pride and satisfaction in facing fears and making progress toward practical goals, the anxiety did not lift and I found myself in a downward spiral. Which led me to hypnosis, as described in my post three weeks ago on October 21, 2012.

Since then, I have become more trustful of the world and myself. To increase my self confidence (not to be confused with arrogance), I remind myself that I must care for myself. Hence I must rely upon both Frances and Frannie within me. Frances is "the strong one;" Frannie is more "sensitive."

For many years, Frances and Frannie offered their strengths and vulnerabilities to loved ones, but they neglected one another. Now I am aware that I am at my best when Frances and Frannie cooperate. Frances requires peace - calm, trust, and appreciation. Frannie requires nurturing - time, attention, adventure, food, exercise, meditation, and sleep. Now Frances encourages and attends to Frannie who, when heard and valued, then supports Frances. Together they create structure, patience, resolve, passion, persistence, and joy.

Frances and Frannie - two names for different parts of me. Together they are me!

Hypnosis!

If you've read my recent posts - or for those "fortunate" enough to be around me lately - I have been a mess! My anxiety level was through the roof. I was in a "loop;" I was overwhelmed and "stuck." Luckily, I recently started a small coffee group before work once per week - as a way to coax myself out of bed without resentment. One member, a few years into retirement from a more conventional job, has been certified in hypnosis. Nothing else was working and, luckily, I'm open to trying things outside of western medicine. So I scheduled an appointment for last weekend. And a second appointment for this weekend.

Now when I feel my stress level rising, instead of worrying, complaining or crying, I simply rub two fingers on my left hand together and get on with my day. And when I feel myself judging myself or others or beginning a string of useless worry, I simply watch a virtual penny bounce into a virtual wishing well and get on with my day. Yesterday, while walking the dog, I caught myself beginning to worry, "Uh oh, what will happen if I don't worry." Oh, for goodness sake! Another penny into the well as I laughed at how ridiculous my thoughts can be and how ridiculous that I had been believing the worst of them.

Important realizations I've made in the last week are that I must trust the world to hold me up and I must trust myself to do the same if I'm going to be a healthy, happy person who makes a contribution in this world. Each of us is so much more than we can possibly imagine.

Dopamine Privilege

If you've studied the social sciences, you probably became familiar with the concepts of male privilege and white privilege. In brief, the majority culture has no reason to understand or value the minority, so they don't. Ever talk to someone in Asia, Africa, South America, or even Canada? They know US history, culture, politics, and geography - often times better than we. But quick, without checking the Internet, what is the capital of Zambia? Can you find it on a map?

So it is with those of you who happened to be born with an abundance of dopamine. It makes you productive and focused, things you apparently value. Which is great. Those are wonderful values! But so are mine!! I value compassion, cooperation, patience, and intimacy. And my ADD brain just happens to provide me with those traits.

An abundance of dopamine puts you in the majority. That doesn't make you right; it makes you popular ... common. It also means that society values you and rewards you. Me, I get a "diagnosis," a label, drugs, judgments, lists for how to "improve," and a small paycheck.

If you're in the majority, don't make assumptions about me. If you must, when I make a mess in your world, offer to help me clean it up. Better yet, join me in my world on occasion. You might learn something.

Away but not gone.

I have been away ... from posting. No vacation. The easy joke is that someone with ADD is empassioned easily and then, just as easily, is distracted from a commitment just made. Which, in my case, can be true. But this blog is no whim for me. I enjoy communication - reading, writing, talking, delivering speeches, dreaming, meditating, and laughing - as a means to process thoughts and feelings. Words are my art.
The break came about for two reasons. First I have been considering what direction to take this blog. Since adult ADD is not the only challenge in my life, I was wondering whether I wanted to  broaden the scope of my story. But adult ADD impacts my vision, which is why I write this blog. So I choose to deliver my story through an adult ADD lens.
Second, people I care for have died, the most recently just weeks ago. Despite living in a culture that prefers to deny death and loss, I engross myself in processing my feelings and, hopefully, healing from loss. As most experts suggest, journaling is a wonderful means for working through thoughts and feelings. I'm also aware that private journals and public blogs serve different purposes. So I took time from the blog until I could write with some clarity.
My life partner "Diane" died from Acute Leukemia at age 50. This week, the third anniversary of her death, I reflect on our 16-year relationship. Among other challenges, we both faced the anxiety and then not-yet-identified ADD that I brought with me. Although we did the best we could, I find I carry residual anger and resentments at the places where we tried but failed. And the places where we gave up.
Four months after Diane's death, our son in-law "Greg" died by suicide in his early 30s. I had shared in the joy of his marriage to Diane's older daughter "Anna" and the birth of their amazing son. Anna moved into the house that Diane and I shared in a small, isolated town where I no longer live. Just last week, Anna and I ended up in court to sever this malfunctioning business relationship. My anxiety over managing the house and the relationship brought me to begin treatment for ADD four months ago at age 45. Naturally, Anna feels abandoned by Greg, as do I because she was happier and our relationship more satisfactory with him in our lives.
Less than two months ago, I received a phone call from the teen son of my good friend "Nancy" that they were at the hospital because Nancy had suffered a heart attack (not her first). The doctors were "trying to keep her alive." Later in the morning he called again to report, "She did not make it." Until they moved to her childhood home, Nancy and her two adopted children were frequent visitors at the home that Diane and I shared. Nancy took a flight to visit us near the end of Diane's life. My dog and I drove 12 hours each way to visit Nancy and her extended family for the week of New Years following Diane's death and just prior to Greg's. Days before her death, I learned that Nancy too faced the challenge of ADD. When she died, I lost a confidant.
I am grateful to learn that adult ADD explains some of the challenges my life because now I'm learning ways to face these challenges head on. At the same time, I am disappointed that this knowledge didn't come until mid-life because 45 years has strained relationships with myself and others, some with whom I can now only relate in the spirit world.

Death ... and Paperwork

In the last three years, death has come to three people very close to me - my spouse, my son in-law, and just last week a dear friend I consider a sister. My heart grieves the loss of their love and laughter.

The well known phrase about death and taxes is so very true. Loved ones die but paperwork keeps coming. In fact, death brings an onslaught of paperwork to those left behind. When she was in hospice care, I asked my spouse to take the computer and our paper files with her into the afterlife so she could continue this grievous task. Her response: "I'll try." But darn, it hasn't happened yet. So for three years, I've been managing on my own. So far, no dire consequences. But still I long for peaceful acceptance.

Today I dealt with vast amounts of it. While applying for a job online (deadline today), I discovered that my copies of college transcripts have vanished. In preparation for filing legal documents, I discovered that I mailed an envelope via delivery confirmation, rather than registered or certified mail as required. Ugh .. more paperwork.

Paperwork is a necessary evil that belongs to neither my heart nor my soul. To the credit of myself and all my supporters, today I grieved only for loved ones lost.

But I'm so smart!

From what I've read from reliable sources, it's common that adult women with ADD have high intelligence. I'm left wondering whether high intelligence is common for women with ADD generally or if it takes a highly intelligent and persistent woman to finally get labeled (I reject the term, "diagnosed") with ADD at middle age.

When I called my mom to tell her that I was being "treated" for ADD, her immediate response: "But you did so well in school." Hence one reason that adults in my life missed knowing that ADD might apply to me is because I'm book smart and, as a child, compliant.

I was reading by age three and considering which college to attend by age four. As long as I can remember, I've received accolades for being smart; it's a strength I enjoy and upon which I self identify.

Like any strength, intelligence can be over-utilized at the expense of other strategies in life. Social conventions, for instance, often confuse or slip past me, unless a book or friend convinces me to my satisfaction that I might care, describes in detail the nuances involved, and then helps me practice and provides feedback as I learn.

Sometimes I confuse experience with an ability to learn patiently. Let's say I don't know how to change the punctured tube for my bicycle. My perception that I should already know this skill can interfere with a willingness to be creative in finding out how. My assumption that it must be quick and easy (because it is for those who already know how) interferes with my willingness to be patient in learning. And if I overlook steps or am missing appropriate tools ... well, forget it!

Sometimes I under-estimate what's involved in reaching a goal. "How hard can it be?" Oh, realizing that I need to shop for groceries before I can cook a meal is insufficient. I need to know what ingredients work well together, remember or note what ingredients I have on hand so I can purchase the others, and begin making the meal before I'm hungry and ready to eat.

Now that ADD has been discovered as relevant to me, I see that it's been a lifelong challenge. Of course, I've only lived life as me, so honestly it's possible that I can be confusing consequences from ADD with other factors. But isn't that what my life is for? Learning about myself and the world for the purpose of living here more mindfully.

Goodness!

Yay, having a good day!

In fact, these come more often than the blog may imply. This may be the way the ADD/anxiety combination works - at least for me: strong feelings. And when I'm feeling good, nothing can be better!

I worked hard this week to get here, which may be part of the joy. I meditated in earnest. I reminded myself that I am loved - truly loved. I spoke with kind and loving friends, hopefully without being too much. I told myself to "get it together." When anxiety came, I perceived it as a call to action but not my essence. And I reviewed my "life accomplishments" - an emotional/spiritual resume of the choices and challenges through which I have persisted, if not with perfect courage or pure intent, at least with the best I could muster at the time and with some interesting experiences and stories (another blog?) as a result.

In addition, a high school classmate passed from this life as a result of Leukemia. And J found herself with family at a funeral. Sometimes I find that perspective turns into guilt, but this time perspective was ... perspective.

Best of all, I reminded myself to be patient and persistent. What I truly desire manifests. A thought can be the beginning, not the whole deal. And I'm a work in progress. If I were done, I wouldn't still be here among the living.

I'm not prone to traditional addictions, but my 12-step friends got it right. One day at a time. And I'm enjoying this one.

Relationships with myself and others.

Executive Function: That's how the ADD experts refer to the boring routines of life that tend to get me and others like me into trouble. It means that tasks like laundry, bills, and cooking may get done but not necessarily timely or well. As my therapist explained, it takes more stress as compared with others before someone with ADD gets moving. But it takes less stress by comparison before we're overwhelmed. In other words, tasks that others find dull or distasteful we find difficult or abhorent. And problems that others find inconvenient or disagreeable we find horrible or disastrous. The result in my experience is that I can procrastinate or avoid tasks that at some point end up resulting in anxiety. And it sure is difficult to manage life - the responsibilities and the fun - when I'm feeling anxious.
Needless to say, this situation can create difficulties in relationships - with myself and others. Luckily, my bills get paid and I don't have addictions. But it can seem to others that I don't take responsibilities seriously, that I overreact to life's bumps, and that I am self absorbed. Of course, I don't enjoy the experience. I also try hard and get disappointed when I fall short. Which means I often disappoint myself and others.
I am well liked. I'm working toward respect.

Mini meditations and moving forward!

I like the idea that life moves forward in my comfort zone. Or if I'm going to be challenged, in ways that invigorate me without actually scaring me. No such luck. Well, life does move forward - whether I join the party or not. One of the lessons is patience with the overall flow. I'm learning - or perhaps, more accurately, re-learning - to take mistakes, hurts, and fears less personally and to live in the reality of the moment. I'd been allowing my feelings around a personal challenge to take over too much of my life, as evidenced by my inability to enjoy a Saturday in nature with a friend without being distracted by worry.

On Monday, I meditated while riding the bus home from work - about a half hour. I could feel my nerves calm! When I arrived home, I had some tasks I wanted to complete before bed. Often I look at a list of tasks as something to dread, resent, and rush through. This time I meditated before each task long enough to feel my nerves calm - typically 2-3 minutes - then began the task at hand while reminding myself aloud, "We're only" washing dishes, bathing the dog, or whatever. Whenever I felt my patience run thin or nerves fray, I stopped for another "mini meditation." I noticed that I completed the tasks with attention, enjoyment, patience, and vigor (and as my dad might say, not "half ass") and, despite the frequent breaks, was willing to work all evening and accomplish much.

On Tusday, I meditated on the way to work. Before 9:00 a.m., I'd thought of a way to move forward on the personal challenge in a way that regret, worry, and fear could not produce. I felt pride and got right to work!

I like to call life a bunny hop - two steps back and three forward. Tonight J sent a text and asked me to let her know when the dishes were done. I washed the dishes but without a mini meditation first and hence, no real focus. Not long after J arrived home, I heard water running in the kitchen. "Hmm. Oh crap, she is re-washing the dishes, and she doesn't look happy." Too late to meditate before the dishes. But I meditated so I wouldn't over-react to her feelings. I wonder how long I'll need to meditate before deciding whether to propose she read today's post.

Reality.

I live in a place where warm and sunny is best embraced while it's here. Hence several days of sunshine have led me to delay my usual weekly posting. I'm comfortable with this choice. I'd like to say I immersed myself in the moment. I was out there enjoying myself, but I also polluted the moments with worry.
This is the most difficult of my posts to date. Difficult in both content and construction. Content because I'm facing truths about myself and the world that I'd rather not. Construction because the unpleasant feelings are challenging my confidence in writing.
I have long professed that the purpose of life is to learn and grow. After an important life experience three years ago I modified it: "My purpose in life is to learn, grow, and be there." And I mean it - when the growth opportunities are of my choosing or feel manageable or better yet, are fun.
This is not another blame session. I've learned that blaming others is an escape but solves nothing. I'm learning that I deserve that same respect. I've come far; I'm doing the best I can; and I have faults just like everyone.
And there's the rub. Life is messy and unfair. There are no absolutes, no black and white. Nature is beautiful, life-affirming, unpredictable, and sometimes unforgiving. People are clever, loving, and persistent; they're also ignorant, greedy, and lazy. Even the best spiritual leaders offer guidelines, nurtured through their own experience of making mistakes and trying again, that must be viewed as a collective, applied with perspective, and can be modified over time.
As for me, I can get much of what I want from life. But life also presents choices, challenges, and consequences. Sometimes I behave with courage; sometimes I manage okay; and sometimes I try to cope through avoidance, rationalizing, or other wishful thinking. I wish to live with acceptance and reiliancy, and sometimes I do. I can see that I'm happier overall when I can keep life in perspective, and I can't say that I prefer my perspective lately.
I've discovered a habit of self sabatoge that comes up even when I'm attempting a healthier alternative. It's repetitive and pervasive but subconscious. I'm sure I mean well, but it's out of hand and no longer serving myself or others. My intention is to work on it while keeping the perspctive that it doesn't define me. It's causing problems, so I'm opting for it to leave. Because the phone rang while I was writing this post, and I did it again!

Turned it around!

Was feeling awful for a few days. Not sure why. But I picked a fight with J - about mopping the stairs, for goodness sake. I also burst into tears while at lunch with longtime friend E, who suggested an appointment about menopause. Oh, goodness! Okay, scheduled that for next week, two days before I see the psychiatrist. Had a quick call from the therapist, who told me (politely, of course) that I need patience with the process/myself.
Dinner with a few women friends scheduled at our place last evening. I was home early from work because I needed a break between events. Have I mentioned that I am a sociable introvert? It turns out the extroverts put me on the hot seat. I was oh-so-lovingly challenged to respect myself more, to meditate regularly (self-affirming meditation was suggested ), and to exercise more patience (hmm, that again) to reduce the perspective of "pressure."
This morning J sacrificed her intended motorcycle ride to make me an omelet because she knew I hadn't been eating, a side effect when anxious. Then she drove us to a local coffee shop and dropped me off at work. Fabulous! I appreciate the support from others. And clearly, a gentle morning, although necessitating arising earlier, is far preferable to grudgingly dragging myself out of bed at the last moment with only a list of tasks on the horizon. I made a conscious decision to replace the "grumpy messages" in my head with happier ones. Best day in quite some time! And I scheduled early morning coffee with an acquaitance for two days from now, to hold me to the commitment to an enjoyable start to the day.

Lows and Highs

Sadly, Bug made some appearances during vacation. What a waste of precious time away from work and with loved ones.

Back to work yesterday. I had a heck of a time getting myself out of bed. It was feeling like everything I was looking forward to in the day were things I'd rather avoid or should magically resolve without me. I consulted a dear friend L who could relate. She sent me an e-mail essay, with a graphic description of an unreal and invisible but heavy suitcase that I might be carrying around. The suitcase contains the rules and mistakes from the past and fears for the future - put there by myself and others. Hence, she encouraged me to let go of the handle and live in the present moment.

For some time, J has been talking about how she listens and responds to intuition. Yesterday I was able to see that the times from the past that I regret are when I acted in conflict with the intuition - although I could hear it - out of fear. So the lesson isn't that I need to condemn or repair the past, but rather to learn from it and respect intuition over fear. The intuition will lead me now and into the future.

Additionally, it has been pointed out how I abuse myself mentally and emotionally. Yesterday I realized my habit has been to send loving messages to others but none to myself. How wonderful to begin telling myself: How far you've come; You are doing the hard stuff and making progress; You are wonderful; Sometimes life is difficult but not always or forever; You are doing well and just need to keep doing your best.

I just tried turning those last statements to "I am" and "my." For some reason, "you are" and "your" are making a preferable impact for now.

Visiting the Parents

As my title indicates, my age is 45. So I'm an adult child, visiting her parents who live in another state. I've brought "the girl" J with me for the first time. Since I average one trip per year here, I prefer to focus upon family interaction over seeing the sights. Since she is recovering from an illness, J has been patient in sticking close to the house and meeting quite a number of relatives. My family knew my longtime female partner, so there's no drama regarding whom I date. And no matter my age, my parents continue to offer me their comfort. All is going well.

Except that I have this nagging stress - let's name it Bug - that insists upon sitting with me no matter how much I prefer it to leave. I have some challenges in my life that I helped to create or allowed to fester. Not intentionally, of course, just from misguided intentions. But there they are. I've begun the hard work to resolve or re-route them. But Bug is much too loud, making the job harder and pooping on the good stuff. The silver lining, I suppose, is that the messes belong to me.

So I see that I need to develop new habits which, it has been said in many ways, will create new patterns and the new life I seek. And I've begun.

• I've stopped focusing on the shortcomings of others so that I can see where I need to grow;
• I'm asking others to show me how to do things, rather than taking care of it for me;
• I'm sitting longer with frustration when confused and learning to solve problems myself; and
• I'm facing big challenges and despite the discomfort, tackling them one step at a time.

Most of the people who love me plus my therapist have all said that the parts of my life I regret have come about because I was busy trying to rescue or please someone(s) else at the expense of myself. My dad today threw in the irony that caring for myself is the best way to care for others so they don't need to care for me and I can truly be there for them. Great advice.

What I want myself to know is that the challenges are there, no matter how I feel about them, so stop listening to Bug's chatter. Ignore the fear and live in love.

First Entry: My feelings today about ADD and anxiety.

Today I'm feeling sorry for myself. But I'm also seeing it as a break. I'm asking myself, "Now what?"

After several years on anti-anxiety medication, I started one recently that is meant to assist the symptoms of ADD. I burst into tears of joy when the pharmacy called, after so many years of waiting and struggling. I was surprised to feel differently already after only 20 minutes of swallowing the first pill. In the last 18 days, I have celebrated my fortune in health insurance, therapist, psychiatrist, and availability of medication. I've also arisen by 7:00 a.m. on the weekend, walked for a fundraiser to prevent suicide, volunteered at a local park renovation, and announced to my loved ones my intention to inspire or otherwise assist others who struggle with mental illness.

Yet today I called in sick to work; delayed climbing out of bed until my current lover and roommate J insisted the dog needed out; and ate only because J is home with pneumonia and invited me along to go get a sandwich. When I lay down on the sofa to zone out, J reminded me that I wanted to start a blog about my experiences with ADD and anxiety, offered to create it for me, and stated this was a perfect time and venue to describe what I am feeling in this moment.

Like many of us who struggle with our minds, I've been seeing a great therapist for many years. I'm a good person. I try to be loving, kind, patient, and supportive of others. I listen to good advice about how to be happy. I read books, practice meditation, eat healthy, exercise, and pay my bills on time.

But still I struggle. I want to be that person who appreciates my gifts, sees the silver lining, and celebrates the joys in life. I want to embrace the moment without distraction. And I do - sometimes, for a while. And then I go right back to regretting mistakes from the past and fearing what the future might bring.

Over the years, my mind has found creative ways to seek peace but avoid pesky details. I've learned to avoid or placate "mean" people; I have a large financial debt from multiple degrees; I'm the landlord for an adult child of my deceased partner in a geographically isolated town where I no longer live; and I have a job that keeps me employed but does nothing to feed my soul. I have a hell of a mess to clean up and possess a mind that adds to the challenge. If only I lived in a time or place that valued my differences.

Instead I want to embrace this perception - feel it and live it. I'm good at surrounding myself with kind and helpful people and I've gained skills in working with those I find difficult; I've had the opportunity to study multiple subjects while continuing to keep myself housed, dressed, and fed; after 17 years with a special woman in my life, I've moved to a city I prefer and I'm learning landlord skills; and I'm gainfully employed with outside options to feed my soul. I've learned much along the way, and there's more to come. I live in a time and place where I can cope with my differences.

This is the first post of my first blog, following the psychiatrist's suggestion I try my hand at art. I've started scribbling with colored pencils on the bus ride to work. On occasion, I sketch still items, but that tends to encourage more self consciousness. I've enjoyed memoir writing and public speaking for many years. I'm hoping this blog is therapeutic for me, helps leads me other places I belong, and offers recognition, comfort, knowledge, or inspiration among anyone who stumble across it.