myysty2345

[myysty2345]

I feel more like myself today. Unsurprising, really. The one thing I can say about myself is that I'm resilient. I never stay down for long no matter how hard I'm kicked in the teeth. And I'm thinking a bit more rationally now that I've been granted some space to breathe and personal time.

I understand why my best friend was scared. I understand why she did what she did. And I know how potent love and fear are when they collide and how any options is on the table when you're afraid you'll lose someone. I know that losing her brother has done damage that can't be fully repaired.

And I know I needed to be pushed to face therapy. It doesn't change how I feel or that I was mishandled and railroaded and forced and that I feel betrayed.

It doesn't mean I'm wrong.

But...

I've been isolated, moody, angry, depressed and defeated lately. I've been put through hell the last 18 months. I've been disengaging from all of the people and activities I loved.

And I booked a two day hotel stay to be alone.

Yeah, I know what she thought. And she loves me. And she was terrified. Because people who commit suicide don't talk about it. They just do it. And they disengage and piss people off and push them away first a lot of the time.

How was she supposed to believe I didn't want to die when I said it?

I don't, though. I don't want to die. I never have.

I'd miss something. I'd miss everything. I'd miss her and my friends and my world and my life. Because my life isn't perfect by any stretch of the imagination, nor am I.

But it's mine.

Life is bullshit. Every day is made up of good bullshit and bad bullshit. Some days more one or the other.

I've got a lot of bad bullshit to deal with. True. But you can't deal with anything six feet under.

And every day, no matter how hard, ends eventually. And you get a brand new one, with new bullshit. I know what to expect, right?

I don't know what happens after you get your last day of bullshit. And I am nowhere near ready to find out.

I guess what I'm saying is, I'm Pandora's Box. And someone finally opened me up fully. It's let out a ton of horror and bad bullshit I've been toting around. And I've been struggling to figure out if I'm empty now, is there anything left in Pandora's Box?

Turns out there's still one thing left in here. Persistent and annoying and that final hunk of steel I can build better armor from than fear and defensiveness.

Hope.

I still have hope. For myself. For other people. For this world.

I'm not going anywhere. Not until I'm done. Not until it's my time. And I don't get to decide that.

I'm not ok. I've never been okay. But I know I can be.

Good talk.

[myysty2345]

Did she seriously just hand me a joke book and think that's going to make this okay?! I mean Jesus fucking hell, am I supposed to be happy I've been backed into a corner and forced into getting therapy or being committed? She really has no idea how badly she's hurt me. Am I supposed to say forgive and forget here...or...what?

If I had done any of this to her, regardless of why, our friendship would be over. But, I guess I don't get a vote on that one. I don't get to be betrayed or hurt here.

Is this helping me, or am I getting kicked in the stomach again? I wish I knew. I really, really want to trust my best friend. I've always been able to. Is this another safe place I have to give up? More ground I have to give? Or am I wrong and this is what help looks like?

I don't know. I don't know anymore. My feelings have been used against me, shouted down, invalidated and used as proof that taking my choices away was For My Own Good.

I mean, where is the line here? When do I get to say enough, just fucking ENOUGH already and be justified in my anger, hurt and feelings of betrayal?

She talked to other people about my mental health. She betrayed trusts that are 40 years old. She threw me to the chopping block and took my choices away and handed me a fucking generic I'm Sorry, Are We Still Friends book with a laugh and a "My bad!"

Yeah. Your bad. I'm terrified of therapy and you know it. I hate being seen as weak or incapable and you took ALL of my fucking armor away and didn't even leave me a single way to defend myself.

You proved to me that I am incapable, worthless, weak and pathetic. Because you were supposed to be the one who would NEVER do that to me.

You told me I could believe in you. You told me you'de be there for me. You told me I was strong and good and loyal and worthy and I fucking believed you my whole goddamn life and now I can't even tell you how I feel because I don't trust you to keep my secrets anymore.

And now I don't believe any of those things and I don't believe you do either.

But I still want my friend back.

But I'm afraid of you now.

But I need someone.

But I can't be myself with you anymore.

But.

But.

You're my best friend.

You're my best friend.

Are you still my best friend?

I don't know anything anymore.

I hate this.

[myysty2345]

I can't talk to anyone right now. I'm just trying to be small and take up the least amount of space I can. Just be small, like a cat in a box. I want my walls back. I want them back so I can lick my wounds in peace. But my walls are bad. And being me is bad. I'm bad. Wrong. Ugly. Damaged. Broken. Evil. Scarred. Bruised. Dirty. Defective. No matter what I do.

What the hell am I going to do? Nothing feels like enough. I want my armor back, double strength steel and opaque. Complete with realistic false self esteem and fake smile.

I don't want to be me. The one under the armor, behind the walls. That mewling weak creature who crawled and begged for people to accept her and said it was her fault they kicked her in the stomach, that she just didn't try hard enough. I have no respect for her, just disgusted pity. How am I supposed to believe anyone else could see value in her? Care for her or love her?

Hell, I only protect me because I AM me. Most of my friends haven't even fucking met me. Because I cannot let them see anything else, one glimpse of me was enough to scare them.

I'm more afraid of them than they are of me.

Wonder if therapy can fix that too.

Damn, couldn't write for months and now I can't stop. Wish I knew if this is healthy or not.

[myysty2345]

Here's the thing, I don't know how to be okay because I've never been okay. I don't even know what okay looks like, except when I'm comparing myself to other people and finding myself deficient.

What does okay feel like? What does actually liking yourself feel like? I don't think I've ever looked in the mirror and seen someone worth liking all the way through. I've never looked at myself and thought, hey, she's doing pretty well. There's always a shadow behind my eyes telling me I'll never be good. I'll never be enough. I'll never be someone worthy of respect or trust. So why try? Why let people waste their time caring about me when I know it's worthless, I'm worthless?

I know all the statistics on ADHD in girls and women. I know the numbers and facts. I'm not a fucking statistic, I'm a person. I'm a person who's pretended she's okay her whole damn life. Who got so damn good at it that when she actually felt safe enough to drop her walls and armor, scared the life out of the people who made me feel that safe in the first place.

Which makes me feel worthless and unworthy and damaged and unsavable all over again, magnified.

How do you tell people that every single thing you think about yourself is the opposite of the person you project? How do you explain that it's not lying, it's not an attempt to decieve them, it's a desperate attempt to be that person instead of the dumpster fire you feel like you are? That projecting that person you want to be instead of admitting who you think you are is the only thing that's kept you going since you were a child who couldn't ever, ever get it right?

How do you tell your friends about being ten years old and being shunned by an entire school of other kids to the point where you think you're actually not really even there? Or how your mother made the teacher go after all those kids who switched from ignoring you to outright torturing you straight through high school in retaliation for ignoring the weird kid? Or how you're make a friend who was new that immediately ditched you when they found out you were the weird kid? How you started wearing it like armor, built a fortress around that little girl who didn't understand why she wasn't good enough to protect her because no one else would.

Or how you were almost thirty when you finally found people you could trust, finally brought your walls down and started pulling off armor that's been on so damn long it's ripping off skin too, left you raw and sensitive and desperately afraid of that little girl getting hurt again. There you are, raw and burned and scarred and bleeding, defensive and shaking.

And they are horrified. You've lied to them. You've his from them. They're betrayed and hurt and why didn't you trust them and God you need help. And it doesn't feel any different from those kids who ignored you, tortured you, abandoned you and threw you away. From the sisters who gaslit you into using you, the mother who couldn't see past her own self worth issues to see you bleeding.

Threw me away. Me. So many times, over and over again. Yes, I'm always waiting for it. Yes, I'm always going to hold back a little, hide a little, mask a little.

I'm always going to be a little afraid of you if you're my friend. Even calling someone my friend comes with fear. Because I'm always going to have these wounds and scars and burns.

But I can at least let them heal over. So therapy it is.

But I'm not going to apologize for being wounded. I will apologize for how I've let it effect the people that love me. And I'll try to do better, just like I always do.

It's all I can do.

[myysty2345]

This is the first time I've written anything in 16 months. I guess you could say COVID really took it out of me. I haven't felt like writing, which is something I've always done to express myself. If I'm honest, I feel like the pandemic has taken that away from me. Maybe if I write down how I've been altered, what I've struggled with, I'll move past it. Or start to, at any rate.

Working during the pandemic has made me feel unsafe in a place where I usually feel safest. I have depended on my job as a source of validation, acceptance and feelings of achievement for most of my adult life. It's the place I have always been considered competent, dependable, essential if you will. The place where I feel the most pride and sense of accomplishment. My safe place has been under attack for over a year. The environment I normally could control to a degree has become completely random, unpredictable and traumatic. I survived this, and I suppose that's something. I know I need to move on from my retail job. I'm building an exit strategy and I'm exploring options for therapy.

Apparently I'm not moving fast enough to suit the people who care for me. Nor am I able to explain to them in a way I'm understood that I can't take just any help or any form of therapy. I've been diagnosed with ADHD since I was nine. I was a part of control groups and research studies and multiple therapists mishandled my care, under or over medicated me, told me I was borderline retarded, honestly the list is longer than I have time for. Just any therapist is not going to help me and could hurt my mental health for years. And I feel like I'm being pushed to make a decision too fast to benefit everyone but me. I feel like I'm having the control taken from me, the choice taken from me. Again.

I used to not even admit I wasn't okay. I pretended to be, masked my symptoms and tried to be what I perceived people wanted me to be. I built heavy walls and armor even against people who I trusted because I knew that the real me wasn't socially acceptable or worthy. It took me years to break those walls down, to peek out from behind them and show my authentic, real self. And now I just desperately want them back so I don't have to feel this hurt and internalized rejection when I'm told to get help. Like, I said I wasn't okay. And my loved ones can't even understand how huge a step that was. So how can I make them understand that pushing me into therapy before I am ready will just toss me back behind those walls and into that armor and I might never get out again?

How can I get them to understand if every time I try to express myself I get told I'm too emotional or combative or deflecting? Like, I'm trying to tell you how I feel and you're telling me I'm irrational when I already know I feel irrational, what's the point of opening up if I can't express myself fully? Then make me feel defective by pushing therapy at me like it's an ultimatum for friendship. For being loved.

I just got home and went another round with my Aunt. Who was the only one who actually made me feel like she wanted me to get help for me. Who told me she loved me first. Who told me I deserved help. Who reminded me of who I am without all this bullshit in my way. And yeah, no one can break me down and get to the really hard shit with me like she can.

I know I need help. I know I'm not okay. I just wish I'd been allowed to make the decision on my own. Just once, I wanted to be able to control my own self care. I feel like I never get to do anything important on my own. I feel like I'm being treated like the borderline retarded person those bad therapists said I was. Like I don't deserve the kindness of normal people and should be grateful to be handled. Managed. Controlled. I know that's not logical or what's actually happening. I also know feeling that way is a clear sign of needing the help everyone is pushing me into.

I'm tired. I'm just so tired of hating myself. It's been 40 years now and I'm sick of me. At this point I'll try anything to just feel okay again.

[myysty2345]

Does anyone else with ADHD internalize all criticism like it's directed at them even when they don't know if they're the problem or not? I do this all the time when someone makes a general statement about something not working or a plan falling through. I immediately think I'm the one that fucked everything up even if I can clearly see other people dropping the ball. My household ran a certain way for thirteen years. We tried new things and multiple people failed to do what they were assigned but when my cousin said we're going back to the old way because it isn't working in a tired disappointed tone I immediately thought, well it's me that fucked it up. Now mind you, there are four functional adults in my home able to do these tasks, and all four of them have missed a task or failed to do things, and all three of the other people have failed way more than me. I'm the one with ADHD though. So naturally, I blame me. It's always me, right?

Apparently not. I've pretty much done exactly as I'm told and picked up the slack for the other four multiple times. But I have a feeling those times are not going to matter at all here. I'm already braced for the criticism to pour down on me and excuses to be made for them. I'm already preparing myself to just take it because it's easier than fighting back. This sounds terrible, I know. It sounds like I am disregarding my own feelings. It sounds like the worst kind of low self worth to allow people to blame me totally without accepting their share of it themselves. But anyone with ADHD will tell you that this really is the path of least resistance. Because once they absolve themselves through you, they'll drop it. Life will go on and you will achieve peace. And I know I'm not the only issue here. I knew this change was never going to work. I know the players and they all categorically hate cleaning, doing dishes or having responsibilities forced on them. None of them think they should have to do these things so they don't, and none of them have the level of anxiety or guilt I do about failing each other that I have in regards to failing them. It doesn't make them bad people, it makes them normal people. My cousin runs two jobs from home, has a s vere back injury and takes on the lion's share of running the house finances while taking care of her elderly grandparents, who do not make that task easy. She's also unspecified Bipolar, which makes absolutely nothing easier. Her boyfriend has two jobs, is raising his son and maintaining his online schooling. My cousins adult son just joined bed the workforce and is subject to random call ins and weird unpredictable hours.

I work 40 plus hours in retail with a bouncing and unpredictable schedule and I have ADHD. We've all got shit. It's easier to just apologize, work harder and not need to be right. Does it really matter if someone else dropped the ball more than me? It doesn't change the fact that I dropped it. Arguments don't change anything and no one is going to magically think you're right afterwards. Easier to own your portion of the shit and forget about theirs. Because in the grand scheme of it, my cousin is the one who ends up suffering for it and she deserves it the least. And I don't want that for my friend. If it helps her for me to stow my bullshit and just move on trying harder, so be it. She's got enough to deal with and does enough for me I can eat my ego and soldier on.

[myysty2345]

And even medicated and trying as hard as you can you still manage to fuck up.

You ever just feel like there's nothing you can do to keep from being a loser? That's me today. The dishes came out of the dishwasher dirty while I was at work. Why, I have no idea. I hate it when I think I'm okay then I get blindsided by something I screwed up on. I hate my brain, which is basically hating the one thing about myself I can't hope to change.

I've been doing so well for months. Yeah I've had minor things crop up here and there but nothing a neurotyptical person wouldn't have. Now someone is upstairs in the kitchen washing the dishes I'm responsible for and angry at me but not letting me fix my own mistake. So I spent an hour on the porch cleaning up in 30 degree weather because I have to do something to make up for it. Because I fucked up and someone else is paying for it again. Why can't I just not do these things wrong? Why can't I just be the type of person who does these everyday tasks right everytime?

I know I have ADHD. I know that it causes executive dysfunction. I know that sometimes I drop the ball and I wasn't even holding it. Tell that to the people I live with who have to tolorate me not being able to perform one simple task right. Who have dealt with me doing this periodically for 12 years and are tired of me fucking up. Who were proud of me for going back on my meds and expected they would make me better. They're good people, understanding and kind and forgiving. They'll forget and forgive me for this. No one is going to boot me out onto the street, or beat me or starve me.

But I'll beat me. I won't go upstairs and eat even though I'm hungry because I'd have to use the dishes I didn't wash properly. I'll want to sleep outside instead of in my room because I didn't earn the room I sleep in. Because I feel like I don't deserve to be in the same house with the people I've let down again.

I know it's ridiculous. I know that no one I live with wants that. They just want me to do what I said I would the right way. And that's a promise that, thanks to my messed up brain, I can't deliver on. And I hate myself again. And I'll do better now, for days or weeks or even months. I'll be better until I'm not again. Until I get comfortable and feel like my routines and strategies are solid and I can relax.

Then I'll fuck up again. And I'm so damn tired of fucking up. And I don't know what to do. I'm at the maximum dosage for the medication that works for me without ruining my health. I have strategies and I rigidly follow them. Do I really have to just go everyday knowing eventually I'm going to have to go through this cycle over and over until I die?

Guess I'm going to have to. Dying certainly isn't an option.

[myysty2345]

I'm not allowed to be proud of myself. Every time I start to think I'm doing right someone has to bring me down and remind me I belong under someone else's boot. Work or home. There's no satisfying both. I can't remember the last time I did something and no one got pissed off with me for it on one end or the other. I gave up one day off. I've got five next week. Five days for home to run my ass ragged. One day and I'm garbage. I can't win. Oh, I've been medicated for five months and there's nothing to drag me over gravel for. We'll just make it the one thing no one has ever cared about before. It doesn't matter that the three days of vacation I took will be spent working at home to cater to everyone else. Again. I can't remember the last time I did something I wanted to do without worrying constantly if taking time for myself is pissing someone else off. I wonder if everyone with ADHD feels like this. Medicated or not, it still makes me feel like shit. I just want to be okay. Why won't anyone let me feel like a successful person for five minutes? I'm trying so goddamn hard it hurts. Is it really so essential for people in my life to whip me until I bleed to make themselves feel superior?

I hope this is just the rejection aversion aspect of ADHD and not actually what's happening to me. Either way, I know I'll talk my way through it and find a way to make it my fault. Hell, it's already happening.

Meds can't do everything. Days like today, that is painfully obvious.

[myysty2345]

Some days I just break. I'm composed of a thousand pieces from a thousand different puzzles and they were never designed to fit together. I wish someone would take me apart and put me away. At least then I wouldn't have to worry about the unnatural picture I make.

Everything looks pretty when it's packed up and out of sight.

Maybe that's the answer. Just stay in my box. Stay in my lane. Go back to only letting people see what I want them to and never really know me. Even a puzzle made of steel can fall apart.

I said I was medicated now. I never said I was perfectly okay. But then, I remember this much...

Puzzles are not meant to stay together. They are constantly broken apart and put back together again.

I guess it's okay to not be okay sometimes.

[myysty2345]

Back on my medication for a week. To say my mental state has improved is an understatement. I read back what I wrote on that last day, and I'm so glad I wrote it.

It's important to understand that struggle inside someone who is returning to their medication for any mental health issue. That, to them, it does feel like failure. A failure to be able to regulate themselves in what society still considers a "normal" way. There is so much shame and stigma attached to medication, particularly ADHD meds. Thanks to a combination of self medication and the illegal abuse of these meds, those of us who need them are judged for having them or for "choosing" to cave to their disorder.

Let me tell you, we're not caving or surrendering to anything. This is a fight, bloody and real, to be our true selves and not be driven by an imbalance in our minds that we cannot fix alone. Self medication isn't the answer, but if the stigma associated with mental health wasn't there many would feel more comfortable asking for help. When they do, be there. Be kind. And be helpful.

I wouldn't be where I am right now if I didn't have family and friends who supported me without pushing me. Who understand that I had to come to these realizations on my own. I'm grateful for them, every single day. I've been fighting my ADHD for almost forty years, and I can tell you it was worth every minute to feel the way I do right now. It's wasn't just the meds that saved me, it was changing behaviors and listening to those who care for me the most. I had to do the work too.

But it was worth it. I was worth it. And so are you.

If you're considering going back to your medicine, or going to the doctor for a diagnoses, I commend you. I can tell you that no matter how dark it feels right now, there is a light at the end of this tunnel. You'll have to work at it, and medicine isn't the only answer, but I promise you can do it. But never let anyone else tell you that you have to do anything. This is your struggle and your decision.

Either way, I'm proud of you.

[myysty2345]

I've never written about how it feels on that last day. The last day of feeling useless, worthless, frustrated and angry. The last day of worrying about missed cues, missed conversations, missed time. Headaches and confusion and obsessive behaviors. Mistakes that everyone else thinks are funny but you think make you look stupid or ignorant. The last day of living in a mind that is actively against you.

The last day you have to get through without medication for your ADHD.

I've struggled with medication for years. I want to be able to live without it. To succeed and be able to enjoy it without it. Accepting that I can't has often felt like failure. Like giving up. I've finally come to accept that living without my meds is giving up.

So this time it's going to be different. This time I'm going to think of the meds as something I need, something that helps. My meds are like my glasses or my shoes. Sure, I can survive without these things. But not having them makes life even harder than it has to be. I don't question that I need my glasses or shoes. Why question my need for the meds?

Sounds easy, but it isn't.

It's not easy to need help. It hurts, it demoralizes. And admitting it to the people you love is way bigger than just saying, "It's my ADHD, I can't help it."

Because you know you can help it. You know there's an answer. You have a responsibility to yourself to do what you can to improve your quality of life. Sometimes, for some people with ADHD, meds aren't the answer. But sometimes they are.

They are for me.

This is the last night these doubts will plague me. This is the last night I'll lay awake thinking of all my mistakes and spiralling into depression and low self worth.

This is the last night I let my ADHD control me.

It's scary. It's actually terrifying. Whatever else my ADHD is, it's a part of me. Sometimes taking the meds feels like I'm cutting away at what makes me who I am. I'm trying to look at it differently.

Two nights ago I dreamed I was sitting across from myself at a table. I was the version of myself I like. She was my brain's manifestation of who I am at my worst. Ratty shoes with holes in the sides because she procrastinated on buying new ones. Sleep pants with holes in them and unwashed hair because she forgot to shower. Broken glasses she taped together be sure she couldn't remember to schedule an eye appointment. I call her ADDY.

I folded my hands on the table and looked at her in the dream. I said to her "It's time to be done with this. It's time to go back on my meds."

And ADDY? She started crying and laughing at the same time and just said, "Oh thank GOD! I've been waiting for you to notice!"

She took my hand and we both smiled. Then I woke up.

I finally feel like my ADHD and I are on the same side. I feel like maybe all the mistakes and forgetting and anxiety I've been feeling has been trying to tell me that it's okay to need help. That I'll be okay. That it's time.

This is the last day I'll live without my meds.

[myysty2345]

I don't do New Year's resolutions. I've always felt like they're kind of pointless. No one seems to keep them and it's basically setting yourself up for failure. You make promises to yourself you don't keep.

But...this year though. Maybe this time I will promise myself something.

My mental health has deteriorated. My ADHD is completely out of control and I know I've reached the point where I need my medication again. But that's not the problem. After 37 years that's just oar for the course. It's the rest of it. The things I ignore until it's three am and there's no one to distract me or amuse me. When tv and books and disappearing into those worlds isn't enough anymore. When I'm not writing because I'm afraid I've lost that spark.

That's when I start thinking it wouldn't matter if I just stopped. Just stopped fighting the thoughts that infect me when I'm alone. The ones that say I don't really matter. That tell me I'm a burden to everyone I care for. That if I wasn't around things would just go on the way they do when I am there. I feel like a ghost in my own life. I'm insecure and jealous of everyone who seems so confident in their place in the world. I don't want to die. I'm not suicidal. I just want to stop. Stop hurting. Stop caring. Just...stop feeling like I have to keep moving, to outrun myself. I work myself to exhaustion at my job but have no motivation to do anything at home. I wear a mask of humor and fun and I choke tears back every day that I can't explain.

I call myself weak. I am weak. I cannot be weak. I'm supposed to be that person in your life that's always okay. The one you don't mess with, the one you don't worry about. Tough and made of stone. Instead I'm a ghost. I'm detaching from everything I care about like I'm going to disappear one day and I have to get everyone used to me not being around.

I need help. I need help. Me. Right here. Can you still see me? Can't you see me bleeding out?

Time to change something before I'm really gone. I'm afraid. But all my dead are crawling out of their graves and someone has to help me put them to rest.

Time for therapy.

[myysty2345]

I used to feel like I had power. Like I was tough and untouchable and nothing could come between me and the people I love. But I was wrong. I'm not tough or strong or powerful. I'm hideously human, sickeningly weak and vulnerable. Horribly powerless. I hate feeling like this. I hate being miserable and I hate feeling like there's nothing I can do to change it now. Have I lost too much? Is this what giving up feels like?

Just going through the motions. Another day. Another day. And on and on until I finally die. I don't want to die. I'm not suicidal. I'm just so tired. Tired all the time and happier asleep because I don't have to hear the voices in my head telling me I'm weak or feel the pain built up in my body when I move. Stress and rage and helplessness attacking my bones and muscles and draining me of all my strength. I used to be a powerhouse. Now I feel like a power failure.

When did this happen to me? When did I stop enjoying the fight? When did I go from warrior to broken doll?

[myysty2345]

Goodbye Gryffindor

We say goodbye to you tomorrow. It's been a year since you died and I'm not ready. It wasn't supposed to be like this. We were supposed to all be old and grey, taking bets on who would be the first to go with a laugh and a toast to the great unknown. You weren't supposed to die this young.

None of that really matters now, though. It is what it is. Now there are only three instead of four. Three left to remember and to grieve. The shut in, the social butterfly and the weirdo. Missing one goofball to make the four. Kings and queens of the back porch. Rulers of the basements and the night time living rooms. Slumber parties and summers, holidays and adolescence and the roar of our 20s when we thought we would live forever.

You meant the world to me. I hope you knew that. You all mean the world to me. I wasn't the weird kid who read too much and spoke too much with you. I wasn't the too loud, too crazy, too weird woman that slept too much and worked too much. I was just me. It was the four of us against the world. I'm going to miss that. I'm going to miss you. Every day of my life I will think of you. And I'll never stop wishing I could have saved you. But I will never forget you. Who could forget a cousin, a brother, a friend like you?

I'll see you on the other side. But not anytime soon. I'm not done living yet.

Goodbye, brave Gryffindor. You can lay down your sword, your battle is done.

[myysty2345]

Try not to look at it as failing. But it is. Nothing changes that grip in your throat or the sinking feeling you've disappointed someone. The voice in your head that calls you worthless, useless. Burden. Always waiting for the day they all have enough of you and leave. You can vividly see yourself living on the street. Dying. All because you forgot a phone number or a task. Because your brain just dumps things without checking their priority status. Because you were made wrong. Every day you hurt. You're skin burns and your muscles scream from stress. You work yourself to the ground to be mediocre. You can't be proud of the 87 things you got right because of that one damn thing you didn't do. Constantly in a state of panic because you know you forgot something but you have no idea what that thing is. You are afraid all the time. You pretend to be okay and happy because you can't let anyone know this hurricane is inside you destroying your mental landscape faster than you can rebuild it. You hate it. You feel stupid because you can't always say things the right way and people laugh at you. They don't know your mind moves so damn fast that no human language could ever keep up. Miles ahead and light-years behind. You can't defend yourself when you're right because what if you did something and don't remember it? Hell, it might have been you. How can you know, when your brain dumps things without your say so? You lay in bed at night and force yourself to repeat your day over and over before you go to sleep. Please, don't let me forget it all. Please just let me have memories. Let me remember so I learn. And you do. Eventually. And you get to feel stupid all over again.

Welcome to ADHD as an adult. The dark side.

[myysty2345]

Today I held your best friend's baby. You would have adored her. She is barely bigger than one of your frying pan hands. So precious. Her little boy has so much energy and imagination, he would have run you ragged. Her oldest needed to borrow my Harry Potter cloak and scarf for a school dress up day. You would have thrown such a fit, I dressed her in Slytherin. Serves you right for not being here to stop me.

This is when I stop being so understanding and I kind of hate you. These kids, they needed both of us. You didn't even get to know some of them. Some of them will never know you. Man, you really piss me off. I wish I could slap the shit out of you for ditching out on all of us by dying. How dare you get to rest when all these damn kids are around? They're all so beautiful. So smart and so little. They need to be encouraged and protected. Fuck you for abandoning them. Fuck you for abandoning your nephew. It's ok though. They have me. Nothing will ever be more important than them.

I still love you though. Jerk.

[myysty2345]

My friends keep things from me. Secrets. I fucking hate secrets. My best friend doesn't. She tells me everything they won't tell me. Everything they say not to tell me. I wonder what they see in me that she doesn't. Or what she sees in me that they don't.

They justify it by saying they don't know how I'll react. Or that it might cause me pain. And the worst excuse, that they believe I might be cruel or vindictive. Oh if only you knew me before. You would know how far I've come. I didn't realize how much it bothered me until now.

The truth is that I don't have that kind of cruelty left in me anymore. I've lost too many people that way with words I can never take back. Once I would have been the first to confront, to demand respect. Now I know that only gets you fear. I guess nothing has changed.

I feel like I've chipped away so much of myself the last few years. Like an artist with a hunk of marble I'm trying to dig myself out of all my bullshit and reveal to the world my inner self. I guess my chisel and my hammer have more work to do if I ever want to be seen. Maybe that's why I was gifted an artist for a best friend. She can see through that hunk of rock to who I really am.