#maninthearena – Quillan Kelly-Dunn

#freedom, #opportunity, American, march for our lives, Uncategorized

It’s Because I’m Green Isn’t it?

November 3, 2025November 26, 2025 quillankellydunn

There really are some ignorant, asshole people in this world.

What happens though, when you become “one of those assholes”?

When you “hate people” in general, this maybe a sign you need to check yo self. (Unless you are Larry David, because his hating everything is hilarious and refreshing.)

When this is not part of your general personality and you feel an NEW overall disgust for the human race, you may want to look in the mirror. Why am I so grouchy?

Why do you “hate?” Why are you so jaded?

I recently had an eye-opening experience like this. In May 2025, I found out I had torn my hip labrum and a nerve impingement. I have never experienced pain like this where it consumed my entire mood and life.

Plus, the boredom..,

With not being able to walk outside and do my regular stress-reducing exercise, active meditation of walking in the woods, I became a miserable person.

Then I had to have surgery in September. I had so many restrictions. I became a raging grinch. I had to find all new coping skills.

The daily gratitude journal, weekly counseling, physical therapy, talking with friends, TV, movies, books, & music helped me through it at first, but there was still this underlying sadness, self-pity, and frustration.

A lot of past issues/demons began to resurface, where before I would breathe them away outside and “walk it off.”

All I wanted to do was check out on the couch, ice my leg and numb myself with Netflix & instagram.

I forced myself to go out when I was not ready and I was a crab. I was rude and sarcastic.

I found myself making stereotypical statements like a grumpy old man.

I was very impatient.

Then spiraled into not wanting to go anywhere. I was losing it.

However, fear, racism, hatred and ignorance has been #trending, so thought “I was normal.”

How can you take action when all you can do is lay there and wallow in your pain?

Despite being completely aware that this is temporary and I’m not permanently disabled, I was still catastrophizing. Meanwhile, my daughter went away to college, I still had to work and help my mom. I was empty and depleted. In addition to trying to function, none of my clothes fit right…

Everything I worked so hard for with strength training. was down the toilet. I looked like a 10lb sausage in a 5 lb bag.

Now I was really ANGRY.

Someone has to pay for this. I want justice! I want vengeance! However, there was no one to blame, I had to accept that shit happens in life and it’s no one’s fault. Still, I “hated” everyone.

Thankfully, my sisters & my friends, provided me love, support and care no matter how I behaved.

They reminded me of the big picture.

So I did what I could do, instead of focusing on what I couldn’t do. I read more enlightening books and listened to more empowering podcasts, instead of watching instagram and the news. Watched funny movies and TV. I got a massage and facial. I watched the sunset. I shopped for clothes that fit me. I took small walks.

Then a female, Arabic woman held the door for me at Starbucks, so I paid for her order. A stranger.

Afterwards, I began to cry.

I was inadvertently reminded “Hurt people, HURT people.”

I forgot that I need to give in order to receive…

When people showed me love, I was able to give love back. When I received compassion, I was able to give compassion. Isolating and ruminating was getting me no where, except a downward spiral of misery. I forgot that there are people doing way worse than myself. I was hurting so I wanted to hurt others. I hated my situation, so wanted to hate others.

Even when things were working for me, I wanted to self-sabotage and be miserable.

Therefore, my hatred was checked and I was able to look within. I now have way more empathy for my patients who are disabled, elderly, and those in constant pain.

This “culture of hate” is running on the fumes of our own internal struggles/fear/misery and we want someone to blame.

If everyone works until they no longer can, pays their taxes, follows the laws/rules of our country and accepts the insurance provided by their employer; we should all be good. If you break the law, you suffer the consequences.

Some people truly are disabled and are unable to work and some would give anything to be able to work again. I think we can all agree that no matter what race, color, gender, religion or sexuality we are; our core values are the same.

The beauty of our country is in our differences and diversity. We are all immigrants or descendants of some. It is evident when we ask each other “what is your nationality?”

I mean, what does “American citizen” truly look like? Everyone can’t be born here. Someone had to come here first.

The hard work of Americans & immigrants is what built this country. Refugees come to America out of fear for their life. If you aren’t fearing for your life, then follow the citizenship process. If you are here illegally, then work, take care of yourself, don’t expect hand-outs or break our laws.

We have no idea what anyone has been through, so let’s have some compassion; we are ALL human beings.

Please increase the size of your heart this season and for 2026, consider a resolution of volunteering, paying it forward, compassion and empathy for others instead of judging and hating.

Make America Kind Again.

https://www.instagram.com/reel/DLu17xqxhGE/?igsh=Z3IxbGM2a2FwNG54

https://www.instagram.com/reel/DPmKEv6Ejt5/?igsh=MTd6ajB5YnZ0dDVxaA==

https://www.instagram.com/reel/DOw-GwFkZTi/?igsh=ZDdrcDU3MHY1aDBz

#Beyourself

I Say Hurl.

October 18, 2025October 28, 2025 quillankellydunn

“I say hurl. If you blow chunks and she comes back, she’s yours.But if you spew and she bolts, then it was never meant to be.” Wayne Campbell

Vulnerability is metaphor of Blowing chunks… spilling your guts…putting yourself out there.

It used to be something people rarely did. Usually confiding certain topics was saved for close friends, family or a mass audience when you publish a memoir.

Now it’s OK to completely “hurl” it all over social media. The bad habit or trend though, is when people put themselves out there, share too much, or offend someone, they get “canceled.”.

Therefore no one can ever make a mistake. No one can ever be misconstrued or misunderstood. Many statements and content can easily be taken out of context. This may lead to paranoia about everything you say. Some people may end up traumatized, clam up and are never heard from again.

When that happens, they no longer share their gifts with the world; all their possible contributions end up in the “idea graveyard.”

I used to share anything with anyone pretty quickly. I thought it was just me, my south side upbringing and “I am just like this.” The older I become, combined with the more I learn, the more I recognize that it was a total lack of boundaries. A lack of boundaries is not a personality trait, it is a trauma response. Lack of boundaries is a symptom.

I thought the word “trauma” was only applicable for populations like veterans, POW’s, victims of sexual rape/assault/abuse, witnesses to a murder, survivors of natural disaster & 911… you get the idea.

What it really is…

“Trauma is an emotional response to a terrible event like an accident, crime, natural disaster, physical or emotional abuse, neglect, experiencing or witnessing violence, death of a loved one, war, and more. Immediately after the event, shock and denial are typical. Longer term reactions include unpredictable emotions, flashbacks, strained relationships, and even physical symptoms.”

The sudden shut down of the world in 2020 is an example of collective trauma.

Who truly knows the long-term effects of this trauma had on kids, teens & young adults who got jipped out of their 8th grade festivities, graduations and other rites of passage.

Examples of long-term effects of trauma that you may relate to:

Growing up with hungry or a lack of food in the house…perhaps as an adult, you binge eat, over-shop for food and waste it. This could stem from not knowing when your next meal was coming or if you didn’t eat something, it would be gone. So now as an adult, you scarf dat shit down. “Clean your plate” as we were told…

No wonder why most Americans are overweight.

If your family life was chaos, your parents were always fighting, someone was an alcoholic or drug abuser… you learned to cope with unpredictable occurrences and stay calm in chaotic events because this became “normal.”

As as an adult “you’re always waiting for the other shoe to drop”, you pick fights with your significant other, you are excessively stressed and anxious over trivial, normal problems, you get depressed, anxious or “feel out of sorts” when relationships/life overall is going good.

Your body/brain does not know how to cope with calm, stable, & predictable…Therefore, what do you think happens if you cannot cope and become anxious with calm, quiet, stable, boring, everyday life…

You self-medicate!

Over-drinking alcohol, over-spending, over-exercising, over-smoking, over-masturbating, getting high too much or become addicted to porn and inadvertently are no longer be able to ejaculate with a real person.

Others may numb out binging TV for too many hours, clock in ridiculous hours on their phone/social media, over-use prescription drugs, use marijuana & other drugs too much…

Some people learn how to detach from their emotions, become numb or “frozen”… those feelings have to be felt and go somewhere… hello chronic pain.

Sometimes…Headaches, autoimmune disorders, migraines, back pain, fibromyalgia, IBS, and other unexplained ailments could be stemmed from chronic stress & stuffing emotions.

Therefore, if you think you are overdoing it in someway in your life, please see a therapist and possibly a trauma specialist. In that case, with privacy, HURL!

Vulnerability is cool, but we all have to process our trauma safely and re-learn healthy coping skills to live a less distorted life.

Unfortunately, I learned all this at an online two-day conference by the author of “The Body Keeps Score” when I was 49 years old.

So…I thought I would share with anyone else who is unaware. Also please keep being creative and share your gifts with the world. With AI now, we need some original, human creativity. Shits getting weird at lightning speed.

https://www.instagram.com/reel/DJz3rVKTWWA/?igsh=NnJwY3M0b2lxc3E0

https://www.instagram.com/reel/DJ6y6HNOj3g/?igsh=MTVndWVyZTU5ODJkaQ==

https://www.apa.org/topics/trauma

https://www.instagram.com/reel/DNBOZy3Cxxq/?igsh=M2ppbHF0bzQ3d2xu

https://www.audible.com/pd/0593412702?source_code=ASSORAP0511160006&share_location=pdp

#freedom, #homeschoolingrealshit, #teens, American, Anxiety, Autism, Find A Way, Health & Wellness, migraine relief, parenting struggles, prettyinpink, Women's Fight

Pretty Pink Poison

May 17, 2024January 16, 2025 quillankellydunn

Since I’ve been gluten & dairy free for 20 years, my binging on candy and baked goods has been a lot more challenging.

This is a good thing of course.

I found out about celiac disease, the gluten allergy, before most heard of it, in 2004. People would look at me like I was nuts when I told them.

It wasn’t that big of a deal at first because I still had the option to binge on dairy products like ice cream, gluten-free pizza, Frappuccinos, cheese, & yogurt.

Then I kept getting these scorching sinus infections & migraines, so I went to the doctor. She suggested I try no dairy for a while because it’s mucus producing. Dairy is also a huge trigger for migraines.

Unfortunately, that was the solution. I felt fantastic physically, however, mentally not so good..

I went into a deep depression induced by cheese-withdrawal.

(I still have reoccurring dairy-free-depressive episodes, intermittently triggered by not being able to eat pizza or a grilled cheese etc.)

Dairy-free cheese has not been able to cut it…Cut the real cheese. 😔

Dairy, soy and gluten/wheat is in almost everything, especially most delicious candy bars and chocolate.

Since then, my occasional go-to favorite candy is pink starburst.

I savagely rip through my kids Halloween candy each year.

*Never realized that Andy’s dress resembles a PINK STARBURST* 🤩 *She looks delicious*

I’m usually irritable the next day if I eat a lot of sugar. Sugar hangovers are real. I do my best to limit it. However some days I cave if I’m really tired.

Anyways, my son bought me a huge bag of all pink starburst. It was a sweet gesture, yet I was furious with him.

“Don’t bring that shit in the house, you know I can’t control myself!“

I say this to him as I am shoving pink starburst into my mouth & frantically unwrapping more.

The binge began…

The scrumptious starburst were gone in about eight days.. Everybody in my house had some, but I consumed the most. I was pushing them onto my family like a crack dealer.

I was so crabby each morning.

I was in a steady, simmering rage for four days, irate, snapping at everyone, & ready to pounce.

Whenever I would have these episodes in the past, I would chalk it up to my period.

However, I had a hysterectomy in November 2023.

Can’t use my period as an excuse anymore. ….(next post will be about the correlation between diet, menopause & hormones).

I felt like I couldn’t sit still, couldn’t focus and I was so agitated.

If I am a 49-year old woman experiencing this type of chemically-induced rage, what do you think would happen to a toddler/child/teen if they consumed these products.

I used to think red 40 and behavioral problems was a bunch of baloney. I am humbled to admit that I believe the chemicals, artificial colors, flavors & Red#40 in our food is poison.

It may not be the instant, fatal poison. ☠️ However, it is clear in how the body reacts to these ingredients.

There are tons of tik toks, articles, & posts about the correlation of diet, red #40 & behavioral problems in kids/teens.

There is also concrete, scientific evidence that this is true here and article at the end.

This guy below is a doctor (@docamen) and boldly posted this, so there must be some truth to it:

Garbage in, Garbage out.

Terrible chemicals in our food combined with overstimulation from electronic devices sounds like a recipe for disaster.

Where do you think these episodes cause the most issues?

At school, where you need to focus, sit still and be receptive to learning.

Sitting still in a desk for hours is already difficult, why add anything to make it worse?

Maybe after kids consume starburst, skittles, nerds, twizzlers, fruit snacks, cheetos, doritos, pop-tarts, gatorade, sour patch kids, gummy bears, fruit roll ups, pudding snack packs, jello, powerade, high-C, juice etc, at breakfast or lunch-you may see behavior like this:

I am communicating this because I clearly overdosed on red 40. As an adult, who forgets sometimes and eats this crap; it’s obvious some people are very sensitive to this FDA permitted junk.

The FDA to consumers:

A friend of mine, a teacher of kindergarten, sent me this text after my last post.

Another teacher friend replied:

*We can’t keep dumping this on*
*teachers & schools.*

I won’t bore you with the details and the conspiracy theories. Instead, wondering if collectively, we ALL could stop purchasing products with red 40. Hopefully companies will stop making it the poisonous way.

Or perhaps, it can be banned like it is in Europe & other countries.

It’s all really confusing:

These products are fast and cheap but there is no food in your food.

Looking at the ingredients in products before you purchase them is frustrating and time consuming, however, if it prevents us and our kids/teens from behaving like assholes, isn’t it worth it?

Something quick now is slowly poisoning ourselves over time.

https://www.instagram.com/reel/C5To1VsgHKq/?igsh=MTkybDRnY3B0ODByMA==

https://www.sciencedirect.com/science/article/pii/S2214750023000926

ADDENDUM 1.15.25 Yay

https://youtu.be/vDsWU1qV_0k

#doitanyway, #freedom, #opportunity, #teens, #whiplash, Find A Way, sunshine & rainbows, Trauma

A Case of Whiplash

February 23, 2024January 16, 2025 quillankellydunn

The most difficult class I took in grad school was called Group Dynamics.

I walked in to a large classroom set up with thirty desks facing each other in a circle. The only person in the circle without a backpack at their feet, was a lanky, tall guy wearing a plaid shirt and navy tie.

He resembled a 45 year old Alex P. Keaton with Dick Van Dyke legs. His legs were crossed and he looked way too casual for a student. His elbow was propped on the desk and his hand held a pen that he clicked repeatedly next to his ear. He continued to look at each of us, yet didn’t say a word.

When the clock displayed the 6:30pm start time, no teacher introduced themself. It was odd. Five minutes went by without anyone speaking. The clock seemed to move in slow motion. The quiet was deafening and awkward.

After about 15 minutes, we all started looking at each other with that WTF-bewildered-look. Some raised their hands, no response. Students talked out loud, asked questions, some whispered to each other.…crickets…most students shrugged their shoulders.

We sat there in silence for 50 minutes. 🦗

It was maddening.

At the end of the class, the syllabus was passed around and the teacher left.

His name was Dr. Wolf.

The Assignment for the next week was to turn in five group dynamic observations we learned from this class.

But, we didn’t learn anything?

I scoured the book for hours all week trying to figure it out. I turned my sentences in, received it back at the end of class -grade 0/5. What?

Week after week I would relentlessly read and compose informative sentences only to receive a big fat zero. So I tried harder, read the chapter longer.

Continuous weekly ZEROS.

Each class, the silent Dr. Wolf would remain unresponsive, despite the students were becoming visibly frustrated, emotional, & downright irate.

When I received a zero on my test, my chest collapsed in devastation. I remember walking out of school into the January cold, sobbing. That Ugly cry. I cried all the way home and considered dropping the class.

Unfortunately, the class was mandatory in order to graduate.

I never tried so hard at anything in my life. Finally, I got angry.

I said “Fuck it.” I stopped trying. I stopped caring. I didn’t look at the book for a week.

After the next class, I half-assedly wrote down what I observed in the class. I relished in my passive aggression to the teacher.

Get. Bent. Dr. Wolf.

My statements:

1. “Without proper leadership, a group begins to look to each other for a new leader because their current one sucks.”

2. “Without direction or rules, a group breaks into cliques or subgroups and complains or talks about their own topics.”

3. “When the leader ignores the group, the members become frustrated, disrespectful, or withdrawn.”

4. “Without leader guidance, group members may want to leave the group.”

5. “Emotionally unsupportive male leaders may become strangely attractive to group members.”

The last one cracked me up.

Clearly, I got a thing for tall, lanky, emotionally unavailable men. 😉

I turned in these statements at end of class. I didn’t even wait until the next week. I wanted him to associate my face with my answers. I gave him an obstinate look as I tossed the sheet on his desk.

That following week I was excited to receive my zero. At least I didn’t waste hours of my time for this F/Zero. I hoped to see some type of expression on Dr. Wolf’s smug, stupid yet sexy face.

The paper was given to me with a

5 out 5-100% in red ink!!!

My neck snapped back like I was in a head-on collision. My temples throbbed like I had a case of whiplash.

Huh?

Then the epiphany…

Ohhhhh, he wants to know what I think, not what the books says.

I learned this without him saying one word.

I was also trying way too hard instead of seeing big picture.

“Work smarter, not harder” finally became clear.

From that day on, I was on fire.

Once I “got it” … I was unstoppable.

Imagine if I quit before it clicked. What a shame that would’ve been.

I learned more from this class than any other in my entire educational career.

Why?

Now this occurred 20+ years ago.

What would’ve happened if this class occurred in 2024?

Most would’ve just given up, dropped the class, maybe even changed majors. There was no instant gratification.

The giving up reasoning aka whining or excuses would probably sound like:

“It’s too hard!”

“He is emotionally abusive.”

“I’m being bullied.”

“The teacher is racist.”

“He’s a narcissist.”

These are paraphrased statements that I have heard from my own children and from other kids/teens; even adults.

Which I usually counter with “Maybe they are, but what are you learning from this?” as my mind flashes back to Dr. Wolf…

However, I never realized that at times, I was enabling my kids to use their feelings as an excuse; or making them feel too special so they thought they didn’t have to try.

My intention was to empower my kids, instead, I may have been fostering dependence on my approval.

I believe collectively, we all wanted to ensure our children had a more positive upbringing than we did.

Unfortunately, it may have gone too far and it seems to be backfiring.

As Simon Sinek states here & in the below link that this mindset could’ve been exacerbated we started to give everyone participation trophies.

Kids learned that everybody gets rewarded even if they don’t try, so why bother exerting effort.

Painful revelation

I am humbled to admit this:

When my husband encouraged my kids to throw away all of their participation medals & trophies, my kids (7 & 5) were crying, I erroneously sided with my kids.

I didn’t understand what my husband was trying to accomplish. He was ten years ahead of me. All I could see is how upset they were.

My own childhood confusion was prolonged by not having the “WHY” explained, so I convinced my husband to explain WHY he wanted the kids to do this. It made sense, sort of. I still didn’t see how this would have an impact on their future.

I see it now.

How else are they are going to learn to get back up when they are knocked down?

When things get tough, are they going to get back up or quit.

Are they going to keep trying after they fail, or surrender.

Ten years later…

The whip lashes back at me.

https://www.google.com/gasearch?q=simon%20sinek%20participation%20medals&tbm=&source=sh/x/gs/m2/5#fpstate=ive&vld=cid:95ca8e54,vid:GjcuELSTYA0,st:0

https://www.ted.com/talks/simon_sinek_how_great_leaders_inspire_action

https://medium.com/the-outtake/on-demand-for-a-second-look-whiplash-864f3530be4d

#Beyourself, #doitanyway, Apollo Creed, relationships, Rocky Balboa, sunshine & rainbows

Sunshine & Rainbows

February 15, 2024April 23, 2024 quillankellydunn

I don’t know about anybody else, but I am definitely not myself from Martin Luther King day until about Presidents’ Day. Four long, full weeks, with no days off.

During this time, I’m pounding vitamin D supplements like nobody’s business. It takes effort to feel motivated. A tremendous amount of energy & preparation is required to go for a walk outside.

Work, grocery shopping, exercising, cooking dinner, raising-teens, dishes, laundry, etc. the day-to-day feels so much heavier.

Now, this is the time where it’s a good idea to schedule some self-care & make plans with friends and family. Having something to look forward to makes a difference. Seeing the people you love in person, has an impact. Social connection has the power to help get you out of this funk.

I know this. Yet, I’m too tired to reach out. I’d rather just sit on the couch and wallow in this.

Yesterday, a Wednesday & Valentine’s Day, was an exceptionally tough day. It is my husband’s birthday so I wanted to cook a special dinner. I always forget to take the day off, thinking I can handle working, then rushing around cooking an elaborate spread.

Yes, I was going to make my kids assist, but sometimes delegating is even more exhausting. I do not always have the patience. Plus they may screw it up. 😂

Clearly, I was in my head and taking everything way too seriously.

I received a random text from a friend, T, that I haven’t talked to in a while, like years.

I’ve been meaning to call her especially after finding out too late, that her mother had passed.

I have had a post-it on my wall to send her a card for almost three weeks. It’s like, “Why don’t I just execute and do it? Why do I keep waiting?”

I was waiting for a “good time” to call her and finding the “perfect card to send her .”

So instead of texting her, I just called her right then, even though I was in middle of a car maintenance appointment.

There is no perfect time.

The call was interrupted, chaotic and silly but in that 35 minutes, it was real. Also, we were both laughing hysterically.

We hang up and go about our day, working & juggling motherhood. I went for a walk on my lunch since the sun was out. I asked my retired friend to join me, which also helped me get out of my head.

Early evening, after we both got through our day, T texted me, thanking me for the call.

She then goes on to tell me some amazing stories about her mom.

Why do we find out how spectacular someone is, after they’re already gone?

Such as, her mother had TWELVE children.

My friend T texts about her mom:

She’d tell my husband “mi hija es chingona. Sabes porque? Porque es mi hija.”

Translation: “My daughter is a bad ass. You know why? Because she’s my daughter. “

How cool is this? She sure sounds like a fun & fiesty lady.

T texts:

“Yep. I got all my seven sisters matching t shirts that say “chingona como mi madre”

T goes on to say:

“She loved the Rocky movies because my brother that passed, idolized the character. I went to Philly for work and took her with me to walk the steps and see the statue of Rocky.”

“I played the Rocky theme song on my phone while she walked up the steps.“

This is on my bucket list, so I’m intrigued. T sends me these fantastic pictures.

I am tearing up & smiling. I have the chills. Now…I’m obsessed with her mom. I am grieving this woman that I, unfortunately, never had the opportunity to meet.

Good reminder: The grief is always there. The griever will want to talk about the experiences they shared & the great things their loved one brought to this world. If they don’t, let it be their choice.

Don’t ever feel like “I didn’t want to bring it up.” It’s not like the person forgot about the loss. That pain is always lingering in the shadows.

I assume and doubt anyone is like “Oh, I forgot my mom died, thank you for the reminder & ruining my day.”

We can’t be afraid or avoid talking about this because it’s part of the beauty of life. The more powerful the love, the more powerful the loss.

To my surprise, by T talking about her loss & grief, she remembered a great accomplishment of her own.

T Texts:

“Omg and when I ran Chicago marathon my niece (my deceased brother’s daughter) made this poster for me.“

These trembling chills emerge down my spine, goosebumps on my arms as I’m reading her text, sitting in my office with these pictures right next to me:

If I never called her, I would’ve never known about this coincidence…this connection. This obsession we had in common.

I was chilly and involuntarily tingling for some reason. I put my cold hands under my thighs. I looked down at my chest and observe what I’m wearing.

I swear to God, this is 100% true

This is one brief moment in an ordinary day. Life again reminding me to:

Make the call. Send the text. Go out when you don’t feel like it. Show up for your friends. It’s not about you.

That imperfect phone call at a horrible time…

Wow.

P.S. My Husband “slyly” suggested we go out to dinner instead. I didn’t shower first and I wore the Rocky sweatshirt. 🤗

I’ve been also grieving Apollo Creed, Carl Weathers, Chubbs like he was my personal friend.

I also knew never this:

https://www.menshealth.com/entertainment/a45810629/sylvester-stallone-reflects-on-relationship-with-late-son-in-sly-documentary/

#doitanyway, #freedom, #greatpretender, #teens, Anxiety, Badassery, coming of age, Find A Way, Health & Wellness, Mental Health, parenting struggles, relationships, Trauma, under pressure

When the Levy Breaks

February 12, 2024February 15, 2024 quillankellydunn

Have you ever had a vivid memory of an experience from decades ago come flooding back to you out of nowhere?

I had this memory tsunami happen to me yesterday.

I have been doing this Meditation challenge since the beginning of 2024. This app was referred to me by my brilliant colleague. (Links below).

Yesterday morning, I completed session four of the “Taming Anxiety” challenge. The topic was about cognitive distortions.

I haven’t thought about my own battle with cognitive distortions since college.

Feeling compelled to share my experience in case anyone is feeling stuck or discouraged. I could’ve used the information below way earlier.

This life-altering moment occurred when I met with the school counselor about my schedule. Apparently, something I said was a red flag to the counselor that I was struggling with anxiety.

Thankfully, she did not use the word “anxiety” at the time. Unlike now, that uncommon, scary word and its symptoms were foreign back in the 90’s.

The counselor handed me a paper describing cognitive distortions (CD). I distinctly remember reading these, with my eyes bulging out of my head. I was in utter shock that this wasn’t a “normal” way to think.

As a student, I was able to start seeing her weekly for free. If it wasn’t free, I would have never gone through with it. I needed to save my money for nickel beer night. (A non-clinical, absurd cognitive distortion. 😏)

Each week, I discussed all of the stupid, irrational, and impulsive behaviors I did while operating in a perpetually, anxious state-of-mind.

It took a tremendous amount of effort to retrain my brain, unlearn old ways and reframe the CD. I truly believed I would NEVER be able to stop them.

I kept showing up even though I dreaded it and was uncomfortable.

By going to counseling & actively participating, I inadvertently leaned toward anxiety and its clutches.

Then an emotion showed up…humiliation aka cringe.

All I can say is thank effing gawd there were no cell phones or social media back then.

I experienced all of these:

After about 20 sessions, the counselor subtly addressed my lifestyle and inquired about how I have been coping with these tricky little fuckers.

The counselor then pointed out that contrary to popular belief, alcohol will only temporarily help. “Alcohol and marijuana are like a band-aid, and they make anxiety worse if using them to “self-medicate”. They may also cause paranoia.”

Every single one of those pesky, mind-fucking, cognitive distortions were on blast all-of-the-time. Ironically, they were present before, but I did not notice because I was detached from myself.

Suddenly, when I got in-tune with my body & mind, I felt paralyzed with anxiety. I froze, couldn’t make decisions, and just stopped everything.

Which led to…

I was terrified that I would have a panic attack in public. Panic attacks are real & scary AF.

I was very confused that I felt worse in therapy. The counselor gently reminded me that “Things get worse before they get better, it is always darkest before the dawn.” I let go & trusted the process.

Once I accepted it…I became consumed with talking about anxiety and explaining myself to everybody.

Side effect of untreated trauma+anxiety=lack of boundaries…

Thankfully, I had a very, wise friend, who could see the big picture. She said something profound to me like this:

Engaging with a friend who “gets you” without judgement, makes a monumental difference.

With time, patience, and lifestyle changes, this way of thinking extinguished itself. Of course this anxiety got “canceled” by utilizing a combination of counseling, mindfulness, physical exercise, limiting caffeine/sugar/alcohol, spending time outside often, taking vitamins, journaling, yoga/pilates, mindfulness, medication and most importantly, in-person human connection.

Looking back, it appeared to be absolutely impossible to overcome.

Now it seems like no big deal. I had to feel it, do the emotional work and allow it to pass.

I am glad that there is less stigma & more awareness about mental health and anxiety, currently.

However, it should not be used as an excuse to give up. No one IS their diagnosis. The more you avoid, numb, or hide from it, the longer it takes. Running from it only prolongs the process. The process can be conquered with the proper guidance, effort, & dedication.

In 1998, there was no other option in my outlook, except to keep trying. It was also way easier to unplug and detach back in the olden days.

How terrifying for gen z, teenagers & children right now? The social pressure, “cancel culture”, picture-perfect-life-posting and the “it’s-too-hard-I-give-up” mindset is disheartening.

Humans have survived thousands of years before iPhones, social media and the internet.

Reminder: Humans are resilient.

The epiphany empowered me today to push my teens to face uncomfortable emotions that sting.

Pain teaches you something.

Nothing ever grows in a comfort zone.

It’s a constant effort to remind myself of what is considered a big deal to my kids.

Social connection is getting worse, not better. Therefore, it is never too early to start healthy coping strategies. I mean, if nine-year-olds are spending $900 at Sephora on anti-aging skin regimens, then it wouldn’t hurt for a child/teen to unplug their mind for 15 minutes a day.

What I really like about this app is it makes the decision for you. It is like a parent that perhaps all adults need sometimes. “This is what is on the agenda today, do it and stfu.” It has a calendar that keeps track of your progress. Lastly, the founder, Dan Harris, describes how he had a panic attack on national television.

Any generation could understand how mortifying that had to be.

He recovered.

He wrote a book and is now helping others.

https://app.tenpercent.com/link/download

https://open.spotify.com/episode/5NgnSCyzVkaVfgDwzFevtf?si=TU-6WTk5Q8yjLBwYHy7GPg

https://markmanson.net/podcast/david-brooks

https://a.co/d/9WpMZ9K

*If numb & detached, you can’t feel love*

Since I published this, I completed this 7 out 10 day challenge. I don’t know why but this little badge made me feel a slight bit of accomplishment.

#Beyourself, #brenebrown, #doitanyway, #freedom, #greatpretender, #opportunity, brene brown, coming of age, Grief, Health & Wellness, Mental Health, PTSD, unlockingus, vulnerability

Cruel Summer

July 21, 2023July 21, 2023 quillankellydunn

This is a revised re-post. It’s was a therapeutic, free association that is too difficult for me to shorten…

September 8, 2020…When I saw that “Cobra Kai” was the #1 watched series on Netflix, my mouth dropped open. I started trembling. I assume this reaction was due to a level of euphoria that I have not been able to publicly get in touch with since 1986. It was an intoxicating feeling of true belonging, like “I am not that big of a weirdo” after all. Other people in this world are clearly are obsessed with Karate Kid as well.

My siblings and I can quote The Karate Kid pretty much word for word. I’m sure people who have witnessed us in “Karate Kid (“KK quote mode”) must have thought, “Jeez, how many times have you watched this.” Daniel Larusso’s self-righteous anger & Johnny Lawrence with his gleaming, blonde, visor haircut never gets old.

“Belonging is the innate human desire to be part of something larger than us. Because this yearning is so primal, we often try to acquire it by fitting in and by seeking approval.”

Brené Brown, The Gifts of Imperfection

Over the years, there has been brief moments where I’ve had the courage to be my authentic-KK-loving self. This was usually brought on, subconsciously, by enough alcohol that could kill a small child. Some may get white girl wasted, but I prefer to say Mr. Miyagi wasted.

This first incident was released by liquid courage, not true courage. I was 21ish, enjoying the last few hours of the weekend at Reilly’s Daughter. As Cruel Summer by Banana Rama began blaring, one of my sloppy, drunk, guy friends slurred these words to me “Hey! The Karate Kid song!” Omg. Suddenly, there was something there between us that wasn’t there before.

As he was clumsily swaying back and forth to the song, holding a pitcher of Lemovox in one hand, a full cup with a cigarette in the other; he stepped out of the friend zone and he became strangely attractive. I was captivated by his lack of rhythm and impeccable hand-eye coordination. I was entranced and ready to make out with him in the middle of the bar; kinda like how Daniel nearly swallowed Ali at Golf ‘n Stuff.

By the grace of God, he slipped and wiped out on the perpetually sticky and damp, bar floor. The pitcher of lemovox spilled all over his clothes, hair and eyes. He stumbled to get up, screeching that the cheap, acidic combo was burning his eyes.

The laughter of all the guys combined with his fall, broke the lemovox induced spell.

Where am I? Perhaps I should re-think this?

Anyways, it was a close call. This was my first indication that my private obsession with Karate Kid could potentially become a big problem. If I acted on my irrational impulses, it would have been, literally, a cruel summer for me. My friends would’ve ripped me apart for the next six months; perhaps years. I made sure to keep this side of me repressed in the future.

The second time, the obsession re-surfaced during an emotionally vulnerable time. I was married for two years and had my first baby. The newness of having a newborn had run its course. The financial pressure of adulting with a mortgage and unpaid maternity leave left me no choice but to be back at work in 10 weeks.

I had just stopped breastfeeding/pumping and the hormonal-fluctuations resulted in giant eruptions on my chin. My body…that awful in-between phase of maternity clothes and regular clothes. Nothing fit right and I felt uncomfortable, bloated, and fugly. My wardrobe consisted of stained tops and a choice of either cameltoe khakis or muffin-top black pants. I wanted to hide.

All this combined with running on 3 hours of sleep and the fluorescent lighting of the emergency room where I worked; left me feeling real attractive.

To make matters worse, my husband and I were working opposite schedules to be home with our son. We slowly became disconnected, sleep-deprived roommates.

Meanwhile, a single, energetic, childless guy started training in our department who was extremely witty and funny. I was shadowing this guy to make sure he was performing the psychological assessments correct. The patient we were evaluating lived in Reseda, Illinois. The guy says to me:

“I never heard of Reseda Illinois. I thought it was in LA. I only know that because of Karate Kid. “Oh you have a date? With whoommm? Not that boy from Reseda.”

My eyes widened and without thinking I replied, “Yeah Dad, he’s from Reseda.” Then I nervously laughed, blushed, & started to sweat.

“Yea whoop dee do. You want me to do cartwheels or something?”

Suddenly, my KK repressed self was unleashed. I could not stop. I couldn’t remember the last time I laughed like this or felt so alive. We continued this banter the rest of the evening; driving my other co-workers nuts. Walking to my car that night, physically exhausted, but mentally, I am was in the best mood. I felt like “me” again.

At the time, I thought he put me in the best mood, but in reality, he just made me feel comfortable to be myself without pretending.

Sometimes joking isn’t about making fun of someone, it’s about making fun of a situation to disconnect ourselves from whatever uncomfortable emotion it creates in us.

Brené Brown
Braving the Wilderness

This guy had the ability to connect with anyone, he had everyone laughing. However, I started getting jealous, wanting his attention. (Don’t judge me, when you’re dying of thirst in the desert, you don’t care who gives you the water.)

However, since I had not felt this type of connection in so long, I continued to make awkward attempts to keep it alive. Thankfully I got the hint eventually and knocked it off.

In hindsight, I did not recognize how disconnected I was from myself, my values and my pain. This having-babies-rite-of passage is a huge adjustment. The more I tried to “pretend” I had it all together to avoid feeling the shame; the more I kept myself in this vicious cycle. Kinda like Daniel LaRusso, who likes to blame the school, his bike, his mom, and moving to LA on his current situation.

Most recently, this movie came up again last year when my son went on his first date. At the time, I didn’t realize it was a first date because my son kept saying they were “just friends”. When I picked her up, I witnessed how the two of them were interacting… Unfortunately, this revelation unfolded in slow motion in my brain; …omg my son is…a GUY.

Flashbacks of my son and I holding hands, snuggling on the couch began to flash before my eyes. My little boy is gone. In the middle of this bittersweet epiphany, the girl’s dad came to the car door to meet me. I behaved like a complete fool, a total awkward nerd. I turned into Lucille LaRusso and I had no control.

Lucille was a damn good mom.

Anyways, I have accepted my siblings and myself are weirdos. I love this about us.

In our defense, we have a good reason. Our memorization of KK wasn’t a typical situation. The Karate Kid was part of our daily routine.

You see, our brother, was non-verbal and wheelchair bound. After he got home from school, there was not much he could do but watch or listen to TV. So this movie was playing continuously in the background. My youngest sister would sit in her playpen eating melba toast and my brother would lay on floor and they would watch this movie (and The Muppets) together almost everyday. It was so cute that we would sit with both of them and watch it, again.

Despite our age difference, this movie connected all of us.

In spite of my brother’s limitations, his stellar personality and sense of humor shined through. Our brother, Johnny, would have this smirk on his face while watching KK.

Over time, we noticed a pattern in what Johnny found the funniest. He laughed the hardest when people were loud, yelling, angry or sniffling/crying. When I say laugh, I mean he displayed that shaking-silent-laughing-so-hard giggle.

One time I was crying about some nonsense, sniffling. My brother erupted with the laughing. I wanted to tell him to shut up, which is funny in itself. I stopped crying and started laughing too. This was the first time I recognized the irony of his reactions. There seemed to be a deeper, non-verbal message he was trying to communicate.

“I’m laying here on the floor, I can’t walk, talk or feed myself. What the hell are you crying for? Get some real problems”. -Johnny Durnell

Johnny passed away from respiratory failure on July 21, 1999 at the age of twenty.

I suppose repressing The Karate Kid is also like repressing the grief and all the uncomfortable emotions that go along with grief. Guilt, anger, despair, resentment, etc. feelings I don’t want to feel.

Trust your gut Johnny, ignoring those feelings. will only hurt you in the end

What these three examples have taught me is that the story I told myself kept me stuck. How repressing these emotions can result in HUGE mistakes if caught in an irrational, raw, vulnerable place.

The most difficult part of our stories is often what we bring to them—what we make up about who we are and how we are perceived by others. Yes, maybe we failed or screwed up, but what makes that story so painful is what we tell ourselves about our own self-worth and value.

Brene Brown

Thinking or talking about The Karate Kid makes me think of my brother, my childhood, and what this movie triggers inside me. It brings me joy, but it makes me feel pain in my heart. This movie unleashes a floodgate of all emotions.

If I want to feel, I have to feel it all. You can’t “show up” and “hide” at the same time.

Alcohol is a slippery slope, especially with trying hard to numb & repress grief. It is a band-aid that works at first, then it just makes it worse. Sleep deprivation, hormones, poor self-worth, disconnection contribute to an irrational & vulnerable state of mind. My coworker caught me at a weak moment emotionally and unknowingly made me feel safe by bringing up this movie. The connection felt euphoric because I blocked my story for so long.

If you won’t allow yourself to feel the sadness, anger, shame, grief and pain; you will also deny yourself the feelings of love, joy, growth and happiness.

Owning our stories means acknowledging our feelings and wrestling with the hard emotions—our fear, anger, aggression, shame, and blame. This isn’t easy, but the alternative—denying our stories and disengaging from emotion—means choosing to live our entire lives in the dark. It means no accountability, no learning, no growth.

Brene Brown

Doubling Down on Love

https://ideas.ted.com/finding-our-way-to-true-belonging/

quillankellydunn | September 8, 2020 at 8:17 am | Categories: #freedom | URL: https://wp.me/p9zGxM-iu Comment See all comments Like

#Beyourself, #brenebrown, #freedom, #teens, coming of age

The Perks of Being a Therapist

July 3, 2023August 14, 2023 quillankellydunn

I’ve been at a crossroads for some time, stuck in a moral dilemma.

I keep waiting for my sense of humor to arrive to discuss this topic in a jovial manner. However, some things just aren’t funny.

The Perk: My counselor really helped me when I was in high school, so I wanted to become a counselor when “I grew up” to help others. I also wanted to be a part in ending the stigma about mental health and substance abuse.

Yet, I’ve been involved in a personal mental health situation and found myself contributing to the stigma by wanting to “keep it quiet” and “not wanting anyone to know.”

When I caught myself saying “don’t tell anyone.” I realized the truth.

The real truth is…I have been afraid.

Afraid of being judged.

Because let’s face it, we all judge. We all have our own opinions, our assumptions. Our brain defaults to judgement even if it is not our intention. It is a conscious effort to be mindful of this all the time.

After all, “Other people’s opinion of YOU is none of your business.” (Salt-N-Pepa got it swinging again…)

I have accepted this as human nature and decided to stop being afraid of IT.

“IT” meaning the harsh reality, the fear of the judgement, the blame, the assumptions of other parents, adults & maybe even teens. That “we must have done something to mess our kid up.”

Now I am being 100% sincere, I am NOT looking for reassurance or for anyone to say that I didn’t screw up as a parent. I know I am a good mom. I know we are good parents. We did the best we could with what we had at the time. We all know there is no parent handbook for every situation. No matter how many books you read, you are never 100% prepared.

Why does Ruthie look like 39 year old Mrs.Roper instead of a high school student?

The Perk: Raising awareness to help other parents. This is a reminder that this could happen to anyone. My hope is that if anyone else is going through something similar, then perhaps this story would bring them comfort or direction.

When I caught myself saying “shh, don’t tell anyone” I realized, being quiet about this situation is a betrayal to myself.

It is also a betrayal to all those patients/clients I promised that they had nothing to be ashamed of. In order to break the mental health stigma, I have to overcome my own bias, my own self-stigma.

Despite my profession, addressing my own parental believe that this condition is a sign of personal weakness or that it should be able to be controlled without help. I had to let go of “that someone/something is to blame” or “it’s our fault.”

I realized that regardless of what the cause is, it happened.

So I’m just going to rip this off like a band-aid and blurt out my story.

We choose to admit our 17-year-old son to an outpatient partial hospitalization mental health and substance abuse program (8am-2pm) in the fall of 2022 for three weeks.

We didn’t wait for him to get “caught” by the school. We didn’t wait for him to be mandated to have an evaluation. We knew something was wrong.

In the spring of 2023, I had a call 911 on my son for suicidal ideation. An ambulance & paramedics came to our house. (My retired neighbors were so confused.:)

The Perk: I knew what to do, kept my cool throughout the crisis, and understood the process. Even if my son was bluffing, I wasn’t playin.

Later, we admitted our son to a locked, inpatient psychiatric unit for a depressive episode and marijuana-induced psychosis for 10 days. He then did the outpatient program 8am-2pm for another three weeks.

He hated us, despised us for atleast five days.

The ironic dilemma, I am a mental health counselor who has had to assist in admitting individuals who suffer from mental health problems to an inpatient psychiatric unit or an outpatient program.

On a personal level, I’m struggling with this. As a parent, I am in shock. I am confused. I thought if I did everything “right” as a parent, my kids would be okay. Secondly, I never thought marijuana was “that big of a deal” until I witnessed what happened. These concentrated vape pens are no joke and can be purchased easily at gas stations & vape shops without being carded. Good times.

I tell patients all the time that “Everything is going to be okay. Your health is the most important and if this was a medical problem, no one would be embarrassed; so you shouldn’t be. You should be proud of your courage that you got help.”

Yet there I was, feeling ashamed.

As I smashed onto a four-foot long cot in the ER waiting room, I remembered many of those parents I had to talk to, while they were attempting to sleep uncomfortably in ER chairs.

I found comfort in remembering the empathy I provided them for the pain I imagined them experiencing.

The Perk: Growth. Nothing matches the pain of being the one going through the actual hardship. No one could understand fully what it is like being on the other side of the situation, as the terrified parent, until you are in it.

I was reminded, you truly never know what a person is going through until you go through it yourself. You can imagine, but you do not know their story. It is so easy to pass judgement and assume.

However, we are all able to CHOOSE to be mindful and be aware of our own “human stuff”.

The Perk: I learned how to re-frame my thoughts. We do have control over our own thoughts and possess the ability to CHOOSE empathy and compassion. We can CHOOSE not to judge.

Our son is alive and well. He is not ashamed and is glad we got him help now. He is a lot more insightful, but still an impulsive teenager thou. 😉 We are taking things day by day, mostly great days.

The Perk: Even on the “bad” days, there are still good moments in every day.

P.S. Go ahead and judge away, I’m cool with it. I get it. You won’t fully understand unless it happens to you. I hope you never experience it. Also, the more you judge, gossip, assume & blame, you will continue to be a part of the mental health stigma.

Push play 😊

•I did not cause it•I cannot control it•I cannot cure it•

Always better to be safe…

#Beyourself, #freedom, #opportunity, American, coming of age, march for our lives, PTSD, Veterans, vulnerability

Semper Fidelis

August 13, 2022August 13, 2022 quillankellydunn

I have been feeling very uninspired lately. I have not felt like writing or speaking my truth because it seems like there is no point. Feeling disheartened, discouraged, disappointed, and unpatriotic is a terrible mindset to be stuck in.

Thankfully this changed on Thursday, August 11th, 2022, when I accompanied my sister to her friend’s book signing.

It was a privilege and honor meeting a true HERO, Major Tom Schueman.
.
And Added bonus, he is from the Southside of Chicago!

Major Tom Schueman & my baby sista Allison

See pic 👆🏻Tom is writing on his hand 😉 …just a quick quote by William Faulkner 🤯😂- you can take a guy out the south side but ya can’t take the south-side outta the guy;)

Major Tom Schueman, A Marist High School, Loyola and Georgetown graduate raised by a single “hippie, cop mom” has authored his first book with Zak, an Interpreter from Afghanistan.

This one- hour interview, had me choked up-then-laughing numerous times about Tom’s experience growing up and what he went through serving our country.

Laughing when Major Tom describes his Grandma having a crush on Tom Cruise and A Few Good Men was on all the time at his house growing up.

Major Tom describes the values his mother instilled in him, the childhood friends he made, and how both combined helped build the foundation of the amazing man he has become today.

Tom’s core values of resilience, adversity, integrity, persistence, and always being faithful led Major Tom, to not giving up in any aspect of his life.

These core values provided him with the stamina to persevere in his deployment in Afghanistan, watching his military brothers become wounded or even killed and in helping his friend Zak and his family escape from the Taliban to the United States.

Zak wanted to improve the quality of life in Afghanistan and chose to take a life-threatening job as an interpreter to the United States military.

Zak’s expertise and cultural knowledge saved lives of countless lives of US soldiers.

Zak is not a trained UNITED STATES soldier, yet he faced the same challenges as US troops and over time, he became one of them and served our country without even being a United States Citizen.

Tom so eloquently describes how some individuals can have American values and “BE American” even if they are not born here.

This story of adversity, loyalty, friendship and always being faithful provides readers with the empowering journey of how Major Tom assisted in getting Zak and his family to the United States after after two previously failed attempts.

If you have been feeling uninspired, discouraged, disheartened, disappointed and unpatriotic, read this book. 🇺🇸 ❤️ 💙 🤍

Always Faithful: A Story of the War in Afghanistan, the Fall of Kabul, and the Unshakable Bond Between a Marine and an Interpreter https://smile.amazon.com/dp/B09NW2TFVV/ref=cm_sw_r_cp_api_BNBM2Q1EFWQE1V4H1C94

https://www.instagram.com/p/ChGRhlVrT4P/?igshid=YmMyMTA2M2Y=

#Beyourself, #johnhughes, #clarkgriswold, #nationallampoon,

#WWCGD

November 18, 2021November 18, 2021 quillankellydunn

The older I become, the more I realize that I can now relate to most of the characters in National Lampoon’s Vacation, not just the teens & Uncle Eddie… 😜

What triggered thoughts of the Griswold’s was an incident with my daughter a few weeks ago. My daughter’s friend asked her to go to Fright Fest at Great America, I agreed, assuming the other mom/dad were going. Unfortunately the other mom/dad assumed I was going.

Since we already told them yes and they were so excited; neither of us could say no. So I agreed to drive one way and the other mom agreed to drive the other. Neither one of us were thinking about the round trip time. When I realized I would be in the car for 2.5 hours going nowhere, combined with my daughters additional side text requests for other accommodations; I started to get a tad bit resentful. Hence, my text below to my daughter.😜👇🏻

On my round trip to Gurnee, I got to thinking about how much I will enjoy seeing my daughter sing zip-a-dee-do-dah out of her tiny butt😊😅 like Louis Armstrong. Then I realized I am becoming more and more like Clark Griswold! How did this happen?

Becoming CG

Despite our parents, grandparents, aunt, uncles’ best efforts to provide us with social guidance and teach us society’s unspoken rules; there are many instances that do not “come up” in everyday life. Therefore, movies & TV shows assisted in bridging the gap of the absent social cues on how to behave.

Looking back, I now recognize how being exposed to the encounters faced by this family has played a key part in my upbringing. Here are some of the crucial components I might’ve missed if it wasn’t for this family and their interactions with others.

#1. Hand Hygeine is important

Growing up in the 80s, where most of us probably washed our hands once a day, if that, before dinner (after the street lights came on.) It is a damn good thing that Clark Griswold (CG) subtly suggested to cousin Vicki, (a young Jane Krakowski!🤯), to not stir the Kool-Aid with her hand.

As an avid, Kool-Aid stand entrepreneur, I might’ve thought this was behavior was acceptable if I could not find a large spoon. Thankfully, I caught Clark’s subtle hint.

2. Don’t Judge/Be Proud of where you’re from.

Cousin Vicki is uncouth, however, it is not her fault since behaving this way appears to be normal where she resides. Hence, when Audrey confronts Vicky: “That being a farmer isn’t cool” instead of reacting offended, cousin Vicki advocated for herself with an “Oh yea?Well…”. Vicky counters Audrey’s statement with a shoebox full of weed.

#3. Drug use can get you arrested

In the 80’s, we were lucky enough to have those amazing commercials about “This is your brain on drugs 🍳, any questions?” Also, the powerful “I wanted to be a ballerina when I grow up.” (I am being serious rn, it was powerful, it stuck with me;)

Other than 🍳that, there really was no other protocol for not participating in the use of illegal substances. Thankfully, I witnessed Audrey’s attempt to throw Aunt Edna under the bus when the cops pulled them over. I realized, “Holy smokes Audrey could get busted, in front of her parents! Yikes! No drugs for me.”

#4. Don’t get caught, but if you do, indirectly blame the crabby person

I was never able to pull off this one: If you are always happy, nice, kind and sweet-no one will suspect a thing. 😜 I have zero poker face. I kept this default tactic in mind “blame-the crankiest individual, no matter what age, for the “bad” behavior”…

#5. How to shotgun a carbonated beverage

In my family, pop or “soda“ was a rare commodity in the 80’s. A day I could have pop was the best day of my life. 😎

Which usually meant, the next day was the worst! 😩 The sugar & caffeine withdrawal left me tapping my inner-arm veins like an addict for some more high fructose corn syrup & artificial flavors.

For some reason, I also thought that “I better drink as much as I can today because there might not be any tomorrow!” Which made me feel normal when I saw Rusty slam that beer.

#6. The Mom is the Smart One 🤷🏻‍♀️

Ellen Griswold taught me that I need to be smart! Better go to college!! Also that I need to question the dad just in case ;).

#7.The Dad will rarely admit he’s wrong 😜

Therefore, I don’t waste my time waiting for an apology or acknowledgement. With no expectations, I am never disappointed, but there is always that possibility of being pleasantly surprised.

#8.The Dad always wants to impress the hot women.

Turn a blind eye ladies, they can’t help themselves. 😜 It is in their DNA.

#9. Props are important while dancing.

My family can attest that I use this tip at most functions that involve dancing. Props can include, but are not limited to, (CG) bologna sandwiches (me)trays of cold-cuts, plants etc.

#10. Many unforeseen problems will occur on family vacations

This tip has come in handy over the last few years. Clark planned his vacations meticulously, yet many unfortunate events still occurred. I expect our family vacations to be disasters, and they usually are.😜 Incorporate same mentality as #7.

Learn from disasters for the next shitty family vacation

#11. Find a job with an excellent PTO package 😉

Allow for some extra time during your vacation in case of a setback.

#12. Don’t Shoot the Messenger

The majority of people in this world are doing the best that they can, (even if they are annoying;). Overall, the majority of people are good, unfortunately we only hear about the people with bad & rude behavior. Most annoying people are just doing their job as instructed.

#13. Don’t believe everything you hear, no matter how convincing and like-able someone is…

I was very naive and innocent growing up; still am sometimes. Somehow, I knew that Clark was an example of a dorky parent. (Ya think? Yes I know I’m a genius.:) Anyways, everyone in the family rolled their eyes and sighed at Clark; yet they went along with whatever he suggests or does.

I am aware this is a movie, however, I would like this type of cooperation without the eye-rolls & sighs from my teens. Did Clark know he was a dorky parent? I wish I didn’t. 😉

Fortunately, there is one thing that I partake in that Clark does and I do not care about the sighs or glares… The final way I’m like Clark Griswold. 🥁 roll please…

#14. The more Christmas lights, the better 😜

My tip: Don’t buy 300 light sets. They always burn out in half. Purchase 100 light sets, probably 12-15 boxes. Easier to keep track of the quantity.;) They also seem to last a couple more years without the annoying and impossible fuse changing.

Contrary to popular belief, the holidays actually start a week from tomorrow, ya know, the day AFTER Thanksgiving ;)…Sweet baby Jesus…Hallelujah…Well holy shit, where’s the Tylenol ?🙃