Tag Archives: Self Worth

The Difference A Few Years Make

Hey. It’s Shanna. I have been trying to create a journal from my older posts. It looks like the last time I posted was in July of 2014. I’m sure my readers have long since unfollowed my blog. I’ll test the waters again.

What has happened these last 3 1/2 years? I continue to go to my therapist monthly. Yes, I still live with my alters. Gidget and Little Shanna, mainly Gidget. She does not allow me to experience any anger before she feels the need to protect me.

My psychiatrist is currently trying to figure out the right combination of medications. They were okay for a while but in November my bipolar episodes started swinging really badly.

March of 2016 I had the gastric sleeve. My heigh weight was 404 my current weight is 176.

Other things that have taken place since 2014, years of an unhappy and emotionally exhausting marriage, one that I always tried to sugarcoat, came to an end. A very abrupt non-amicable end October of 2016. It was extremely difficult and trying. I, however, am rediscovering the person I surrendered so many years ago.

So, I’ll see if blogging again feels right. I’m not sure yet. I’d love to hear from you.

I Once Loved Roller Coasters


This morning is some better. I am still very anxious and depressed, but not teetering. I realize how many kind and good people read my blog, and they are going through a lot right now too. “Our community” helps one another when we are down. Kind words of encouragement, the reminder of the beautiful things in life and in me, virtual hugs, and a simple “like” they let me know someone is listening and cares.

I have my amazing family. I know the are weary. It is hard having someone you love with severe emotional problems. I could charter a club, I have been on the other side. Living daily, not knowing what to say or do, fear of triggering them. Fear of the backlash. Not knowing if the will be there in the morning physically or emotionally. Holding your tongue and swallowing your emotions, sacrificing your own mental health while they work on theirs. Crying more than laughing. I hate that I put anyone through this roller coaster.

Tagline Hope: Mirror Stalker

She is there, everyday.
I cannot remember the first time I noticed her.
Following me room to room,
house to house, store to store.
Reflection to reflection.

If I remember correctly, the first time I noticed her.
She was much younger.
Had a light in her eyes hazel eyes.
Long brown curly hair, not a gray in sight.
She smiled, sometimes even laughed and made silly faces at me.
What a pleasant girl.
Still, she followed me everywhere.
And copied me, oh how annoying.

As I grew older, so did she.
But, she aged much more rapidly than I did.
Poor soul.
Her eyes tell a story, secrets hidden.
I feel sorry for her,
Inwardly grateful, that I am not her.

I wish she would stop following me.
It has been years.
I am still somewhat young, but everywhere I go,
This lonely soul stalks me.
Grays in her hair, saddness in her eyes, overweight.
Please stop following me.
Once in a while I would like to see my reflection in mirror.

I wish she would make the silly faces she once did.
The faces that warmed my heart.
Letting me know she was okay.
But she does not now.

She seems trapped in the mirror.
Behind a glass wall of fears.
Years of depression and anxiety.
Ruling her life.

But I am still young.
I can help her.
Lead her to the fountain of youth,
Healing balms.
Showing her that she and life
Are beautiful beyond the glass.


Afraid To Leap, Adoption and Fostering

Česky: Matka a dítě. עברית: אם ובנה, 2007. Sve...


Daily Prompt: Might As Well Jump
What is the biggest risk you’d light to take-but haven’t been able to? What would have to happen to make you comfortable taking it?


This is my first time using one of WordPress‘ daily prompts. When I saw it my heart immediately went to my desire to be a Mother.


As a child there was no room in my bed for the stuffed animals and dolls I had, each named, each loved, and tenderly cared for. Every night I would go to bed dreaming of the day that they, like Pinocchio, would come to life and be my real children. Our family always had dogs, I would Mother the dogs and their puppies, imagining they were my babies.


As I grew, cousins entered my extended family. When we would gather, the babies would be on my hip. The same with Church gatherings, children and I flocked together. A “Mother in Training” if I heard it once, I heard it a million times. I baby sat, almost as many times, oftentimes without pay, because of my love for children. “You are a natural”.  Was always the compliment given.


My senior year in high school, I participated in the Practicum Check Out Program. I would go to on of the local elementary schools and work with the Special Education Students.  I developed a deep love, respect, and admiration for special needs children. They really have my heart. I would often pray at night, that when I got married if Heavenly Father was going to send a special needs child to earth, please send them to me, because of the love and patience I felt as I worked with them. I truly feel I am rubbing shoulders with Heaven as I serve them.   They teach me more than I ever can teach them.  I had another opportunities to work with Special Education a few years later, and that bond grew stronger, those prayers more fervent.


When asked on high school on career day, what do you want to be, my answer always remained the same, A Mother. I had the dream of marrying shortly after school and being a stay at home Mother to ten children. I do not know where that number came from, but it sounded great to me at the time. If you open my yearbook, the notes left by classmates all wish me well on my dreams, most of them mentioning the “ten kids”.


With the only dreams of my life being a wife and a mother, you can only imagine the disappointment and utter betrayal from God that I felt when I was diagnosed with PCOS, and heard the words from a heartless female doctor, “Oh, it will not be a problem, unless you want to have children. You will not be able to have children.” My world ended then and there. I was not married at the time. I had not even met my husband. No man would want a woman that could not give him children. I did not want to live if I could not be a Mother. Who was I if not a Mother? Why was I even born?


I changed doctors and was given hope. She assured me that PCOS was not to be the final nail in coffin of my dreams. Years passed, oh how wrong that first Doctor was. PCOS was a problem, other than my child bearing. I was always sick. I could relate so easily with the woman with the issue of blood that reached to touch the Master’s robe in the Bible; however,  my reach often fell short. In 2005 I was diagnosed with pre-cancer of the uterus. A month after I met my husband. We married a few months after that. The pre-cancer medication I given for two years, made it so that we could not try to have children during that time.


When we were given the all clear, we tried. We tried. We tried. Month after month. Nothing but heartbreak. Sex became a chore.  Something had to be done, just like you had to pee on that stick.  Only to be disappointed by the outcome.


In February 2007 my husband received a call from a friend of ours. She was raising three of her grandchildren. The mother was pregnant with the forth. Knowing our desire and heartbreaks with infertility, she immediately thought of us. She wanted this baby to have parents that would love her and care for her.  They were not in a situation to take her themselves. She was going to be a baby girl. Her Mother was on Meth, and they were pretty sure that she was going to have health problems, at the very least, be premature, very premature, as her siblings were. I was close friends with the Grandparents, but I still took the time to pray, but was told that I could not take a long time. They needed an answer the next day.


Oh how I wanted a child. Would this be the special needs child I had prayed for all these years? My husband and I discussed it, we agreed to move forward with the adoption. I was going to be a Mother. I received daily, sometimes more than daily updates from the grandmother, but I was told I could not talk to the case worker. It would “scare the mother” and she would run.  Which she did anyway. There were so many things that went on over the next several months, that seemed like years. I even went to my doctor and talked to her. When we found out that the baby was coming and she would have health problems. We discussed my medications. I came off of some of them, and started taking an herb to make me lactate so that I could breastfeed her. I would pump several times as day, running a coworker out of her office for privacy.. Oh how bad that hurt. I had had breast surgery in 2005 removing my central duct, because of a pre-cancer in my right breast, but I wanted my little girl to have the best chance to make it. So she could be strong, and healthy.  The weekend I that her delivery was imminent, was the weekend that my brother was graduating from law school.  I missed his graduating, because the grandmother said she needed me to stay close.


Let me put it this way, to this day I have a closet full of little girl things that have never been worn. Bottles that have never been drank from.  Pacifiers that never have been lost.  A stroller she never sat in.  I highchair never eaten in. I had almost everything I needed. Why? Because she never existed!! My baby girl was a lie.  It was an adoption fraud! No money was given, food, a bunk bed, and a friendship, someone she could talk to and give her attention everyday.  My trust destroyed.


It all came to a head after the lies kept mounting, and we finally called the judge that was supposed to be the “good friend” that was going to sign the adoption papers.  It was my being naive, and her being evil and needing something that I had, that caused her to destroy my faith in people.


I had rebuild myself.  I am still rebuilding.  I will never be the person I was before.  I will never look at people the same again, nor trust my instincts again.  Even during the fraud, there were many times that I felt that something was wrong, but I could not turn my head or heart on my little girl.  The what ifs were too great.


A couple of years after the fraud, we went to the classes for the State Fostering and Adoption program. Private Adoption is too expensive. I want to be a Mother so bad, but I am terrified. They preach reunification, and I am all for families being families, but I cannot imaging the heartbreak of having a child in my home and then having them taken from me again. When I love, I love with all my heart and soul. I have a Mother’s Heart.


Who knows if I will ever have the courage to take that leap? I might have let an evil person steal yet another dream from me.






Drops of Awesome: The Blog

Drops of Awesome


I really believe in this and want to spread the word. I hope it is contagious.

So often we are defined by the negative events that happen to us or negativity around us that we forget our awesomeness. I originally wanted to have just a page on this blog dedicated, but as I have thought about it, to me it is too important and too exciting to be hidden under a page menu. It needed its own blog.

Please share your awesomeness with the world. Lets see the ripple effect in our own lives and in the lives of others. Drops can be funny moments, moments you served, large or small successes in your days. Visit and visit often. If you have more than one awesome thing to share a day, wonderful! I know we would all love to hear!

The way the page is set up, at midnight EST every day a new date and inspirational quote post magically appears. Our drops for that day will be made as comments.

The Window To The Soul

They say the eyes are the windows to the soul.

Well I really believe Heavenly Father created all creatures. I was reading about Noah today, and the great care that Heavenly Father took to save the animals roaming the land and the fowls of the air.

As I promised I went out and took a picture of my eggplant flower. (I know you were waiting beside your computers in great anticipation to see it.) When I stepped outside the door, to my right on a pillar that we are raising Magnolia trees on, one of our friendly porch lizards waited for his daily photo shoot. He posed so well. Very GQ!

I actually teared up when I looked at the images. Whether that was me just being emotional or because I had just read about the care Heavenly Father took to save some of animals I do not know; however, this image touched my heart. Look at the way the light reflects in his eyes. He has his purpose, not to just be my photo subject, but to help keep the mosquito and spider population down. He might be falling down on the at job just a tad, but that is okay. He is doing wonderful at helping me and giving me something to photograph and interact with. He and his friends are tender mercies, some of Heavenly Father’s blessings to me.

The eyes are the window to the soul. Unknown
The eyes are the window to the soul. Unknown

The tomboy in me is really coming out as I take pictures, manifested by my nose being only a camera’s length plus three or four inches away from the guys you will see in the next picture. I know I showed you pictures of them the other day, I am just so fascinated with them. They thrill me to no end with their genius in creating their nest and their protecting eyes. This might however be the last photo op I they provide me. They do not seem quite as eager as Mr. Lizard to star on my blog. As I leaned in close, one of their scouts buzzed by my ear. I thank you, Mr. Wasp for the buzz-by warning, and thank you kindly for not stinging me, or sending the rest of the troops after me.

Danger!! Danger!! Back away from the nest!
Danger!! Danger!! Back away from the nest!

Lastly, as promised, my eggplant bloom. This little booger provided to be more difficult to capture than the wasps or the lizard combined, and an ant bit me in the process! The flowers hang downward facing the ground. I kept trying to focus on the bloom but would focus on the leaves. The picture does not do it justice. It is such a pretty flower. Each velvety lavender petal curls in toward a topaz center. It is simply beautiful. I am so thankful that I have been blessed to helped nurture it and see the bloom, even if the eggplant does not produce fruit, I have been blessed with a harvest.

I know without a doubt that Heavenly Father guided me to take pictures and to grow a few things in the garden to help with my mental health.

Who knew Eggplant Parmesan started off so pretty?
Who knew Eggplant Parmesan started off so pretty?