Tag: adhd

Art

October 5, 2025

Art is the essence of capturing the beauty of life.

Even in the darkest times, there is still beauty to be found. It is hard to remember that these days. I cannot and will not allow these atrocities to ruin life completely. I need to always be grateful for what is still here.

– The devastating feeling of finishing a good book.

– Watching the sky paint in colors that are unreal.

– The soft feel of petting my beautiful cat.

What grates on me the most right now, (and this is showing my immense priviledge,) but the weather. It is in fucking October and today was over 80*F. Absolute madness.

The only solace I held was the joy in a crisp, autumn day. The blazing reds, citrusy yellows, and burnt oranges of the leaves before they fall. The smell of the chill air. The taste of pumpkin and apple everything. Even just thinking about it brings me peace. But right now, when I need it the most, the weather is not forgiving.

I hate summer. (sorry, I guess.) So, it has been destroying my nerves when people are celebrating this weather instead of cowering in fear, like I am over climate change. I don’t say anything because any joy you can find right now, except at the expense of others, is valid.

And climate change is only a small fraction of the previously mentioned atrocities. I can’t read the news without losing my mind. I’ve run out of comfort shows to soothe me. I’ve barreled through all of them, season by season, since January. Even new comfort shows are being overplayed.

I just need a release.

My journey with ADHD (not comprehensive)

September 14, 2025

I remember in high school and beyond, I kept thinking I was Bipolar based on my impulsivity and other manic-like habits. ADHD was nowhere near my mind until my 30’s. It took until it was officially my 35th birthday for me to be diagnosed with ADHD.

I can’t believe how far I got in life without the proper diagnosis and treatment. I was so messed up for so long and I truly believe my potential suffered. I wonder where I would be if I knew sooner. Maybe I’d be in a fulfilling relationship unlike the crippling loneliness I deal with now. Maybe I would feel more confident in my career and abilities? I know I shouldn’t dwell in the past. I have enough to dwell about in the present.

I’m not sure where all this is coming from. I guess it doesn’t have to come from anywhere. These feeling exist and are valid. I am still grieving for my lost potential and chance at a different, more accepting life. But I appreciate where I am now. I am leaning into the weird aunt vibe for my sweet niece and my future other niece.

Having children around now really reminds me of how much life has changed and how much it will change in the future. I only hope the future gets better from here. We owe it to the next generations to learn to be kinder to each other now.

Picture from IG: myvictoriannightmare https://www.instagram.com/myvictoriannightmare

Regrets(?)

June 27, 2025

I have many regrets in life and that is probably the root of my depression. Two major ones include not being a theater kid in high school and not being a librarian.

I was forced by my parents and teachers into doing march band for five years. I would have been eight but I didn’t get into the college marching band and was allowed to quit after my freshman year of athletic band (supports hockey/basketball instead of football). Now, don’t get me wrong, I had a bunch of friends and had fun throughout my marching band time. What I regret is not being able to be in the theater club in high school.

I love plays and musicals. I would have thrived as a theater kid. But my parents’ ambition for me to be in the college marching band overshadowed my desire to try out for the play. I just wanted to make them proud. I bought into the hype just to find out the college band was a toxic, gaslighting, alcoholic environment. I’m glad I got cut from tryouts.

I tried to quit band between middle school and high school but my band teacher refused to let me. I was decent without trying very hard. I was first chair French horn in high school mostly because I was the only person willing to learn how to play the French horn. I really wish I did choir though. I loved my voice more than I enjoyed being in band. But it wasn’t my choice to make.

I bet I would have been miserable in choir though. My high school choir was what the “cool” clique did for their art credit. I was a fat, neurodivergent, actively traumatized at home child. I barely fit into marching band and that was where the rejects were. They were my people. So, I guess I shouldn’t regret marching band. I just resent that it wasn’t my choice.

Second major regret was not pursuing library sciences for a career. I mean, I guess in retrospect, I would have hated being a librarian. I hate children. I’ve hated children ever since I was a child. They are always thrust upon me when I’m around them since I am a woman? People just trust me when their offspring? It’s annoying.

But back to library sciences, I was encouraged to look for a lucrative career in college. In defiance of my parents, I went into psychology. I was a victim of a barrage of “you won’t make money in psychology.” It was all my boomer parents cared about. I was misunderstood most of my life, so, studying psychology made sense as I tried to understand the misunderstood.

I never wanted to be a therapist. I recognize a weakness of mine is unregulated emotional sensitivity. I am super empathetic and take on everyone else’s mood. I burned out as a rape crisis advocate after a year. I would suck as a therapist and would have burned out super quickly. I wanted to go into research. I wanted to help remotely. Not hands on.

Aaaand back to library sciences again. I love books. I’ve loved books since before I could read. It was one of the only things my father did to benefit me. To show any sort of caring. Books are a passion of mine.

Monetizing a passion doesn’t always work out though. Especially with adhd. I would have moved on by now. The fact that I have 8+ years in my actual career is a marvel. I give up and move on so quickly. I hate that part of myself. I don’t know how to fix it. My apartment is filled with half-finished projects and crafting materials I never use. It’s a problem.

So, regret is a misnomer, I’m content with where I am. Every decision I’ve made has lead me to finally being comfortable in myself.

Thank you, dear reader, if you’ve made it this far, for sitting with me while I process all of this. I appreciate you. Take care.

Reason #782 that I hate Summer

June 22, 2025

Once I was invited by a person, I thought I was friends, to a pool party. I was so excited. This would have been a step up in our friendship and I was ecstatic. I went out the day of and bought a brand new bathing suit and sat by my phone waiting to hear from them to give me the details.

They never contacted me. I spent my whole day in a rejection sensitive brain fog waiting to hear from them. By sundown, I was devastated.

I finally contacted them and fucking apologized for not contacting them first. I was being so gentle with this relationship that I debased myself when it was their fault for inviting me then leaving me out. They downplayed the event, saying it wasn’t that big of a get-together and I didn’t miss much. I was so upset.

This got to me so badly, I ended up in a crisis. I believe this was around the time I fell and hit my head so I also blame that too, but I ended up in the psych ward. It was a perfect storm but this story still haunts me. I eventually gave up on that friendship and it absolutely ruined one of my hobbies.

This person is a huge influence on the hobby I used to love, they are impossible to avoid. So, I’ve completely given up this hobby. I had put so much time, effort, and emotional energy into this hobby and I lost a ton of friendships in giving this up. This person’s rejection wasn’t the only reason I gave up this hobby but it is a large part of it.

Maybe I’ll do more posts about why I hate summer but knowing me and my adhd, I’ll forget and never do another one.

Be safe and stay hydrated, dear reader.

The Great Fall

November 1, 2024

TW: suicidal ideation

Once a few birthdays ago, I went to a show at a local mid-range theater. They had recently renovated and their stairs became a small death trap. They were slate tile stairs and someone had spilled beer on said stairs. My clumsy ass stepped in the beer, snapped my ankle, swung my legs up over my head while tumbling down the stairs. In a dress, no doubt.

I hit my head in the process but I can’t remember it happening. I had to have people tell me later that I hit my head. Well, I also must have scraped my knee at one point because my leggings were ripped. My shoe was lost and I was humiliated. I had royally biffed it in front of a mildly large audience.

What really stood out to me, not at the time, but especially now, was how I was able to stop myself from tumbling all the way to the bottom of the balcony. In my ADHD crisis brain, I was able to think to grab the handrail. I heard a voice in my head say, “Stop”, and I reached out and made contact. I was still upside down and absolutely panicked.

A medic had to come and tend to my ankle and scrapes. I refused an ambulance because I didn’t want to pay for it but ended up driving myself to the hospital. My head was not right and I barely remember being in the ER. They probably scanned me but I could not tell you which kind. I’m scared of head MRIs but if I were a gamblin’ man, I’d say I got a CT scan. Thankfully my brother was in town and was able to get me and my car home.

It was less than a month later, I was still experiencing concussion symptoms and ended up going to the psych inpatient against my will. I was sent by ambulance to the hospital from a doctor’s appointment, so, I ended up paying for an ambulance ride either way. I hate the US medical system. $800 because I told my doctor I wanted to die. I don’t blame the doctor, he was only doing his job. But it took me a while to pay off that bill.

No matter what the consequences of the fall, I am still haunted by that voice in my head that helped me stop falling. Where did it come from? Was it me or was something watching over me?

Believe what you want. Thank you, dear reader.

Life minus (some) meds

February 10, 2024

[TW: food, body image, dieting, weight discussion. I recognize I grew up in privilege and never experienced socioeconomic situations where hunger happened because there was no food. I struggled with money in my twenties and had to go hungry a few nights or live off oatmeal for a week but I always had safety nets. This post is solely my opinions on how I grew up and how that affected my relationship with food.]

I’ve been having issues with accessing my doctors lately. I’ve had many appointments pushed, by months, recently. I am leaning on the hope that everyone in the hospital system is just doing their best and this is just an unfortunate circumstance but it doesn’t remove all the frustration. One of these appointments was with my psychiatrist.

I was recently put on mirtazapine and stopped taking trazodone for mood/sleep coverage. Mirtazapine was supposed to cover what I was going to lose with the trazodone. But mirtazapine came with more than just some okay-ish sleep, I got a new emotion, fake hunger. Yup, I became hungry at all times. I woke up hungry, I went to bed hungry, I was hungry right after eating. It wasn’t normal.

Maybe it’ll get better?

My life’s motto

I’ve been on some restrictive diet probably around 20% of my life. Being overweight since age 9 will do that to you. I know what hunger feels like. Whether it be weight watchers and their point system to zone diet with their zones? I don’t remember. Neither really took. It wasn’t until ozempic that I truly discovered comfortable weight loss.

I’ve lived my life believing that weight loss had to hurt. You had to be punished for being fat. Your life was too indulgent and you need discipline, now learn to starve. Do you know how much it messes with your head to ignore a basic human need? My body wants food and I can’t eat it. To this day, I ignore bodily signals like having to pee for hours on end because “I can’t possibly have to pee yet.” (I blame ADHD for that.)

“I can’t possibly be hungry yet,” was a thought I never wanted to experience again, so, I spent the last 4 years eating what and when I wanted, regardless. I topped off at 322lbs at my heaviest and it wasn’t until this miracle drug, Ozempic, that I’ve ever been able to lose any significant weight. (I’m at 40lbs so far.) And I don’t feel hungry on it. I actually had a side effect of forgetting to eat at all then almost passing out from hunger. (Whoops.) That faded while my body got used to the drug and now I eat a normal amount of food to a small bird. It’s almost like a gastric band in a shot. I was able to be restrictive without the gut wrenching, soul crushing pain.

The mirtazapine brought back the hunger I was without for over 6 months and with it all my feelings of inadequacy and triggers came back too. I actually would feel hungry after just consuming anything. It was impossible to know when I actually needed food or was being tricked by this medicine.

As a child, I had a doctor tell me medication doesn’t cause weight gain. “Pills don’t have calories,” That was his excuse to shame me for my weight. I have been on hormonal birth control and antidepressants since I was 16. I was also 200lbs and 5’8” in the early 2000’s. I was fat and it was all my fault was the general message from everywhere. Society, peers, parents, doctors, gym teachers. But this new medicine might as well be served with a side of ice cream.

Pills don’t have calories.

My childhood doctor

Around the time I started mirtazapine, I was losing around 2lbs a week, consistently. I would have been on Ozempic for 7 months by then. Within the first 2 weeks of mirtazapine, I gained 2lbs. I not only stopped my descent, I pivoted and gained weight. It devastated me.

I decided to wait for my psychiatrist appointment to bring this up because my life’s motto is, “maybe it’ll get better?” It didn’t.

Then, my appointment was pushed two months. Thankfully, I am able to message my doctor through a patient portal. I explained the situation and he promptly (within 2 business days) messaged back to stop taking the mirtazapine. Full stop. There was no, “and start back on trazodone.” I’m just stuck now, in medication limbo, not sure if I will be able to sleep ever.

My only redemption is that I still have my adderall prescription. This is for a future post but I’m pretty sure I have always had ADHD/neurodivergent tendencies and not fitting in, being shamed when unmasking, and being exhausted from all of that is why I’ve been depressed since I was 9. Now, I’m learning how to live with the correct treatment and I would have to say, it’s not too bad.

Thanks for reading.

ADHD

June 20, 2023

I was semi-officially diagnosed with ADHD on my 35th birthday. I still need the report to be completed but I received a verbal confirmation. Good enough for me.

When the doctor told me that I had ADHD, I was surprised at how upset I felt. I went in knowing that I fit under the neurodivergent umbrella pretty comfortably, and at this point, I was convinced I had it. The sensation of hearing the diagnosis was like a pit in my stomach. There was a hollowness in my core. I think the doctor noticed that I was not responding well. We spent the last half of the appointment exposing childhood trauma through drawing pictures to cheer me up. It felt like a shadow was over me.

While growing up, I was always treated like I was lazy and not trying hard enough. I skated through school. I was smart enough to be in honors classes, but I was pulling solid B’s without much effort. There has been a lot of trauma around my “potential” and never being enough. What I’ve been learning through therapy, is that I was dealing with some serious mental health issues hindering me since I was young. It was true that I wasn’t “reaching my potential” but I was given the wrong tools.

My drive home from the specialist was long and filled with much dissociation. I can’t remember when it started but I started to feel relief. I was almost lighter somehow. It wasn’t my fault. I am not inherently flawed. That was a huge revelation.

My self esteem is so low though. How low is it? It is so low that not even Megan Thee Stallion knees could reach this floor. (Relevant reference)

I am waiting to hear back about treatments and interventions for the newly found ADHD but for now, I’m just telling everyone who will listen. Take care.

Self-Care Sunday

November 27, 2022

Hello, friends. I wanted to drop in and post about this product I started using that had changed my world.

I’ve always dealt with poor skin. I had many strikes against me with a genetic double whammy of acne and bad hormone control, along with [many] medications since I’ve been a teenager. My skin was doing the best with what I provided. I would get deep, hormonal acne from age 12-30+ which resulted in a slew of cheap, early-millennial, skin-care routines and striping chemicals.

Up until recently, I’ve been neglectful at best with my skin care routine because I can now. Well, I shouldn’t but I do. One of my worst symptoms of depression is not taking care of my hygiene. Which is super frustrating but I haven’t worked through that completely, yet.

Which brings me to today. I got a great promotion and raise at work before Thanksgiving. Wonderful news but it ignited my imposter syndrome, hardcore. I’m excited though, to be able to afford to indulge in something for myself. Of everything to invest in, I chose, skin care.

I got myself a starter set of Clinique products from one of their Black Friday/Cyber Monday deals. Of all the products I received, this was the clear winner in my books.

Clinique Moisture Surge

This is a product I endorse because as a neurodivergent individual, I appreciate the feel of everything. For me, at least, I’m big on textures and tactile stimulation.

I find this moisturizer to be both as a product and the results of my skin are pleasant to the touch. The moisturizing gel is silky and smooth. The results for the first few hours are dewy plump, healed skin, as if the silkiness of the gel fused with my acne-scarred visage.

Don’t get me wrong, I love a nice cream lotion for my hands and body. It causes a heaviness on my face that becomes frustrating. It’s a sensation I have trouble not obsessing over, I can’t block it out when I’m trying to talk all day. I end up touching my face a bunch and causing breakouts.

This product is very well rounded and worth the cost, in my opinion. Lastly, this is not an ad, I really believe in this product.