My Dad.

I guess my Mom, too...

My family Physician asking me the right questions when I had a nervous breakdown a year ago.  I was 37 years old, a financial ruin, in a relationship with a verbally abusive sociopath boyfriend, and I had nothing left to give to anyone.  I was empty, beyond exhausted, and in despair.  She diagnosed my ADD and started my awareness, discovering the concept of taking care of myself, and the long road to managing myself better. 

Oh, and I am also thankful for Strattera, my old college sweetheart for waiting until the time was right to reenter my life,  and my 9 dogs for their unconditional love.  I could go on and on and on.  I am thankful to be alive, and living life.

Miller Lite and Camel Lites.  The two "lites" of my life.  Went to a psychologist for help, and to my suprise he ended up diagnosing me with adhd!  It explained sooooo much, but I was shocked nonetheless.  And relieved.  This whole time I thought I was just a lazy, flighty, alcoholic who didn't like to get drunk!

"flighty alcoholic that didn't like to get drunk"

cracked me up.  I can so relate to that. I hate being drunk but I do soooo enjoy that place in between harsh reality and those moments of zen brought on by a 3-4 beer buzz. 

I like the zen place of 2 shots of Irish Creme + 2 shots of Canadien whiskey on ice.

Beer's too filling...

That takes me to a Buddha place...