#sheltiesex

A memory that I find to be the earliest I can remember begins around age 2. We’re walking across the pavement, through a trailer park, Mom’s hand in mine, and I’m begging her for red licorice. I know I’ve gotten some from the laundromat we were heading to before; so as a 2 year old, I NEED it. The usual “if you’re good” gets said, and the excitement builds. Though unfortunately, this one’s anti-climactic, in that I don’t remember whether I was good enough to get some candy. Let’s just say I was good so it’s a pleasant memory and move on :)

My mind is full of these little snippets. Some points in my life stand out strong, but the details get fuzzy. I know it was something I should lock into the memory vault, so it stuck around there; but when I try to recall things most of it becomes blurry. I remember specific things certain people have taught me, that I latch onto; such as when my mom started correcting me because I said “prolly” too often. “It’s pro-bab-ly!” she would enunciate in correction of my lazy conjunction. 

Another odd snapshot I vaguely remember was our male Sheltie, aka Shetland Sheep dog, Mom had that she named “Jophes” to commemorate my cute, 3-year-old pronunciation of my middle-name, Joseph. The one thing that sticks out in my memory about this dog was when I stumbled on our other Sheltie Perdita and Jophes mating in the basement of the house I grew up in. I freaked out because I had no idea what they were doing; I think I yelled to mom that they were “stuck” together. Ha! I specifically remember Mom telling me to leave them alone or I might scare them and it would hurt them. I now realize what was going on obviously, but still find it funny that Mom would say scaring them would hurt them, since she knew I wouldn’t harm the puppies :)

I mainly discuss these little blips of video in my brain to address one of the topics in this blog: the ADHD that I’ve lived with all these years, and the discovery of it that has been starting to change my life. Digging up and sifting through my brain while I’m “medicated” is insightful, especially when I’m actually able to focus and think through them without distraction or the emotional blur I usually get from being frustrated with my inability to focus. 

Realistically, I’m not writing this blog to garner sympathy, or raise awareness per se. I’m jotting many of these things down as a sort of journal so my family, myself, or anyone who may want to understand me better might be able to look back on this and know my experiences and what made me who I am, and maybe explain why I do the things I do. I’m sure sometimes I’ll go too far and reveal a secret or a story I wasn’t supposed to tell; or maybe I’ll tell the story wrong and end up retracting things. That’s all a part of this experiment with understanding my reasoning for reacting as I do.