#EVERY close friend i’ve ever had has had adhd

[handcat]

my friend recently went on adderal and was describing the difference between how she was before and after and i Realized…. i 100% fit her before symptoms…..

[struttingstag]

Week 3 Recap

The Strutting Slut Fest is a prompt-based fest run by The Strutting Stag pairing James Potter with at least two characters.

pulling pigtails (4888 words, rated T) by @gracelesslady23 Sirius Black/James Potter/Severus Snape

Severus has been on the receiving end of pranks from bitter rivals, Black and Potter, for close to seven years and believes himself to be well and truly sick of it. But after an eye-opening conversation with Lily (which includes the mention of a very famous muggle adage) Severus finds his perspective shifting. Can it be that Potter and Black are so emotionally repressed that they are using pranking as a form of flirting? And is Severus so lacking in good taste that he finds himself actually enjoying their attention? aka. a silly little starbucksprince rom com where none of them know how to properly communicate their feelings, but it all works out in the end.

Lips Like Morphine  (9708 words, rated E) by @bluedahlia912 Regulus Black/James Potter

He wanted to get closer, needed more, more. James was still just barely hovering over Regulus, one leg positioned between both of his own. Regulus began grinding his ever-hardening cock against the muscular thigh, the frottage doing pleasant things that had him moaning, making sounds he didn’t realize he was capable of making. “Careful love,” James purred, and the sound of his voice nearly sent Regulus over the edge. “Not yet.” OR Regulus Black goes to Potter Castle to repair his relationship with his brother. Little does he know that he has strayed willingly into the midst of vampires; AKA the vampire smut I’ve always wanted to write.

the alchemy (4119 words, rated T) by @ghst-boys Regulus Black/James Potter, Narcissa Black/James Potter, Past Lily Evans/James Potter, Minor Lily Evans/Pandora Lovegood

James Potter is one of the biggest pop stars in the world, and he has what appears to be the perfect relationship with Lily Evans. But what if things are not all they appear to be?

Scandal does funny things to pride (But brings lovers closer) (3801 words, rated E) by @dyke--vader James Potter/Ron Weasley, James Potter/Lily Potter

James knew what he should do. He should accompany Ron to the clinic. He should pay any necessary costs, be there for him as he recovers. They should end things. It was clear that they didn’t know how to stop themselves, how they’d taken every precaution necessary at the start - yet let their relationship wear down the safeguards until they had toed the line too closely. But when James looked at Ron, he couldn’t bring himself to say it.

What Are Friends For (ongoing, 9k+ words, rated E) by @samynnad102687 Regulus Black/James Potter, Barty Crouch Jr./James Potter/Evan Rosier, Sirius Black/Remus Lupin/James Potter, Lily Evans/Pandora Lovegood/James Potter, Regulus Black/Barty Crouch Jr./James Potter/Evan Rosier

James has ADHD and his mind is a mess. The only way to make it go quiet is by being fucked dumb. His friends decide to help. Prompt for Strutting Slut Fest 2024 A 5 + 1 Smut fic: Five times the members of the polycule fucked James stupid and one time James wanted them to but they all took care of him instead.

Venom Dripping In Your Mouth (9443 words, rated E) by @arviyya Regulus Black/James Potter, Barty Crouch Jr./Evan Rosier, Regulus Black/Barty Crouch Jr./James Potter/Evan Rosier

If you were to ask Regulus how he ended up here, he would tell you with conviction that he has no fucking idea. However, that would be a lie. And, now he’s the one with a vampire’s hand digging into his back, his cold lips pressed against Regulus’ ear, voice a growl so low that it’s a mere breath, enough to send shivers to every inch of his body, “For someone who was clearly searching for this, you seem more than a little terrified, sweetheart." Or: Regulus is a bio-chem undergrad fulfilling a humanities credit when he realizes there may be something strange about his professors, James and Evan. He finds more than he bargains for when he decides to test his theory with his best friend Barty in tow, leading to Regulus and Barty becoming human sippy cups.

[sleepdeprivedsimp234]

Really long headcanon post for the stuff that I’ve posted on Wattpad :3

Massachusetts:

-Mans is my height, 5'6, and he hates being bullied about being the shortest of his brothers lmao

-Is twins with New Jersey, though Jersey makes fun of him cuz he's five minutes younger

-he has reddish brown shoulder-length wavy hair and hazel eyes

-mf is built like the Dwayne Johnson though he's just missing the height

-TRANSMASC MASS SUPREMACY 🛐🛐

-this man acts all tough until the cramps come along. Then he's dead.

-doctor of the statehouse, along with Texas. He deals with sickness/illness whilst Texas deals with injuries. Though he can do both cuz we love that.

-tried learning how to make flower crowns cuz NY would always make them for everyone when they were younger. He tried his best, and he's actually kinda okay at it, so him and any will just hang out and make flower crowns.

-^he has put a spell on every single flower crown that he's ever given or received so that they never shrivel up and die

-OCD, autism, and ADHD

-loves rock, metal, and punk music. Especially FFDP (THEY HAVE NO BUSINESS BEING THAT FRICKIN' GOOD LIKE WHAT-)

-friends with the OG13 (no dip Sherlock-), Maine, Texas, and Louisiana.

-REFUSES TO ADMIT HE HAS A SOFT SPOT FOR NEW YORK. EVEN IF HE'S ACTIVELY HUGGING HIM. HE WILL DENY IT TILL THE DAY HE DIES. HE WILL DO ANYTHING FOR THIS DAMN KID.

-^the moment he met New York, he was filled with the urge to take him away from England immediately. He does pick favorite brothers btw. And it's New York.

-sharp lil canines like he's a friggin vampire smh

Sippi:

-he is a squishy boy and we love that <3 it just makes him better for cuddling

-he's not short, not tall, he's only 5'8.

-he's a pathetic loser tbh but we still love him

-sippi loves stuffed animals, but his favorite is a teddy bear that was given to him by New York (fun fact, teddy bears were invented in Brooklyn, and were named after the president that refused to shoot a bear!).

-he named it Mr. Cuddles, and it is the most beat up stuffed animal that he owns (as in, its ear had to be sewn back on, one of its eyes has been replaced by a button, and it has random stitches and patches all over) but he still loves it and cherishes it to this day.

-friends with (omg he has friends????) Texas, Louisiana, Florida, New York, South Carolina and Georgia

-yes yes he is but a cuddly marshmallow. Until you hurt someone he loves. Then you're dead.

-he SCREAMS whenever there's a bug. Strangely though, he likes ants, moths, and butterflies.

-mans is colorblind

-he doesn't like his squishy-ness and has tried to starve himself on numerous occasions :(

-I think that the fact that he's been owned by 3 different countries is grounds to give him abandonment issues right? Okay.

-if it weren't for his friends just simply existing, he would've been long gone by now. (same tho- I mean what?)

-I'm not gonna say he's hurt himself before, but I'm not gonna say he hasn't either 👁️👁️

-bro thinks that anybody he gets close to is gonna leave him :[

-if he gets hurt, he's not gonna bother telling anyone cuz he doesn't wanna feel like a failure for not being able to defend himself

Texas:

-this man is T A L L- he's 6'5 (not as tall as Alaska though so HA-)

-I imagine him to be very slim and fit, but he has a tiny bit of pudge around his lower stomach and hips and thighs.

-he LOVES animals so, so much. More than humans tbh.

-he has a horse (Ranger), 5 dogs (Rosco, Daisy, Cassy, Billie, and Maria. Rosco and Cassy are German Shepherds, Daisy and Billie are heelers, and Maria is a demonic chihuahua), 3 cats (Mittens, Sassy, and Milo), and 2 snakes (Spot and Harvey).

-^thats just at the statehouse. Back home, he has an animal sanctuary where he takes care of animals, takes them in, nurses them back to health, ect... It's very adorable and I love it.

-speaking of animals, he cannot, I repeat, CANNOT keep it together if an animal dies or gets hurt in a movie. Homeward Bound? Mans was not okay. Hachi? He wasn't ballin', he was bawling 😔.

-I BELIEVE IN TRANSMASC TEXAS SUPREMACY 🛐

-he still wears a binder cuz he doesn't trust the doctors to perform top surgery on him.

-ADHD for DAYS- don't give him an energy drink unless you want a 6'5 chihuahua on cocaine to be following you around.

-ADHD, autism, ocd, depression, anxiety, and ptsd. Idk if daddy issues counts, but he has those for sure.

-this bitch has fallen off of so many things that he no longer takes fall damage

-Mexico was such an asshole to poor Texas...... I wanna skin him alive :)

-Texas CANNOT handle someone raising their hand or voice at him. He can't. He will flinch and/or cry. Which he hates. Cuz he's supposed to have this reputation as the big strong Lone Star State.

-he has SH scars on his wrists, sides, and thighs. They vary from blade marks, to cigarette burns, to even scratches.

-he hates all of his scars so, so much and sees them as nothing but a sign of his weakness and inability to defend himself.

-Texas is also kinda insecure about the little bit of pudge on his lower belly, hips, and thighs. What makes it worse is that he can't really help it. Especially the stomach pudge cuz that's just where his uterus is. Does he know this? Yes. Is he still insecure? Yes.

-he often binds too long or forgets that he has his binder on until it's too late and there is severe bruising and even minor bleeding underneath the band. Along with breathing difficulties.

-^to make the breathing difficulties thing worse, he has asthma :)

——————

[fraddit]

Okay, here we go. January’s not over yet, so I can squeeze my 2023 review post in just under the wire. I know it’s not technically necessary to do stuff like this, but it’s something I’ve done at least the last several years, and I do think I get some benefit from the ritual and also perhaps some benefit from forcing myself to type it all out and post it where others can see it (although nobody needs to actually read it. It’s probably gonna get long.)

Last year was the first year of me doing this, I think, where I pulled up all my original posts for the year, and had posted no original works of artistic merit. No photoshop edits, no architectural models of sets, no whatever else I sometimes do. Normally that would make me feel pretty shitty about myself, but I sat with it all for a while, and, yeah, I didn’t post any “stuff of merit”. But that doesn’t mean I didn’t do anything. And as someone recovering from a nasty addiction to horrible self-criticism, I think it’s important to stop and take purposeful notice of accomplishments, even neutrally, although positively is the goal.

And now I know why I put off making this post all month, because I’m already starting to get emotional, just thinking about what the bulk of this post is going to be about.

In a lot of ways 2023 was a really good year for me. I did a lot of behind the scenes stuff that’s been really great. I made an awesome new friend. I started therapy again. I started morning pages journaling. I started bullet journaling. I’m in a really good place right now. Which feels like such a fucking jinx to even think, let alone type out. But at least for the moment, it’s true.

But the thing from 2023 that feels too big to me to even look at really is this:

I don’t remember making that post now, I just found it in my regular review process and it knocked me on my ass. But apparently I made that post at 9:30 pm on December 31, 2022. So, basically the first post I made of 2023. Or at least close enough.

And that little post feels like a big deal to me, because two or three years before that, I’d sworn off writing. I’d decided my relationship to it was just too complicated and fraught and difficult, so I should just give up and put my efforts elsewhere, toward interests and hobbies that weren’t so complicated or fraught or difficult. I had decided that it was time to just be realistic and accept that writing was just not something I was cut out to do and move on with my life.

But here’s the context for that decision, or at least a high level overview that is hopefully succinct and also steers mostly clear of being too trauma dumpy. And it probably reads like a cliched former-gifted-kid humble brag, but it's how my life went so, it's what I've got to work with:

I’ve always been naturally gifted at stringing together words and sentences in a way that’s coherent and organized and readable. Every teacher I’ve ever had, all the way back to elementary school has told me so. All the standardized tests told me I was in the 99th percentile in most subjects, but especially the one’s related to reading and writing. My AP English teacher senior year of high school told me I was the best writer she’d had in any of her classes in her decades long teaching career.

I flunked freshman English and had to retake it over summer in order to move onto the next grade. I got Ds in English for basically all the rest of high school. I know in my heart of hearts that my teacher junior year fudged the math to give me that D, so I didn’t fail. I graduated high school a semester late.

Because, while I may have been good at writing, I’ve never been good at writing. Any natural talent I may have had was utterly paralyzed by my executive function issues (thank you adhd and autism) that generally made it impossible for me to actually put words on the page when it mattered.

Despite all that, I apparently thought it was a good idea to go to college and get a degree in English Creative Writing. I was going write best selling novels. All my professors told me my work was great. When I managed to turn work in that is.

I’ve dropped out of college like two or three times. Last time was idk, 2019 apparently (had to go look it up). I was almost done. Just another semester left or so. But instead I got burned out, had a breakdown in the parking garage before finals because I hadn’t written any of my term papers, and then just drove away and never went back.

And it’s not like I wasn’t trying. Which is probably the most painful part, honestly. I tried meds multiple times. I read self help and how to books. I got an electric typewriter because surely that would fix everything. In my 20s, I did use it to bang out the world’s roughest rough draft for the first "book" (I use that term very loosely here) in a trilogy I concocted. I tried handwriting. I tried voice to text. And there was a beautiful period where I was working on co-writing a much too ambitious fic with a friend where I manage to write several thousand words.

But I have never in my life been able to write On Purpose, with any sort of consistency or longevity or confidence or ease. I had folders of wips and snipets of ideas that all amounted to nothing. I had what all my teachers always told me I had: tons of wasted potential. My only tried and true method that had gotten me most of my results in school was to procrastinate until the night before and use the pressure and adrenaline to puke out a paper just in the nick of time. But even that method eventually failed me (hence the dropping out). And even if it hadn’t, that’s not a sustainable system. That’s not a way to actually get shit done on a regular basis. That’s not a way to enjoy a craft.

So I quit.

I decided, this is too hard. And it makes me feel too horrible every time I fail. It’s too easy to hate myself every day that I don’t write when I think I should. I decided I just wasn’t built for this and gave the fuck up.

That was like three years ago.

So for two years, if I had an idea for a story or a fic, no I didn’t. I’d just ignore it. I did other things. But the ideas were still there. I’d still think about them. Sometimes I even wrote little snippets down. But it was just to get it down. It wasn’t real. I gave up writing. I wasn’t doing that anymore.

And honestly? Maybe that’s what I needed? I have no idea if things could have worked out differently had I made different choices. That’s life after all. But maybe the total lack of pressure from genuinely quitting was good for me? I’ll never know.

But what I do know is that me from a year ago made this post:

And then this post:

And then this post:

And then this:

Then this:

And this is what this past month has looked like for me:

It not part of my system to write on the weekends, so that’s 18 out of 23 days, I managed to show up at my desk and reliably put some effort in. I’ll fucking take it.

And what’s crazy is, it’s felt easy. It’s felt good. I like the process.

I don’t exactly love everything I’ve written. Any natural talent I may or may not have doesn’t make up for lack of practice. But If I can keep this up, I’ll have the practice too. Eventually.

It’s a learning process. I’m having to relearn a lot of skills I’d forgotten or learn new skills for the first time. For example, I’ve basically never seriously edited anything in my life, and with my new approach, I really put the rough in rough draft, so the editing is extremely necessary. But it feels good to be trying. To be gaining ground little by little.

Since I dusted off my ancient install of scrivener back in idk? June?, I’ve written over twenty-five-thousand words, which is A Lot for me. And yeah, it’s across multiple fics. And yeah, I haven’t actually finished any one fic yet and posted it. But I’ll get there. It feels crazy to know that if just keep doing what I’m doing, I’ll get there. And it feels crazy to know that I can keep doing what I’m doing. It feels like I can keep doing it indefinitely, and I’ve never felt like that before. Not in my entire life. At least not about writing.

So yeah, 2023 was a great year for me.

[foulfiendfern]

ranking the different crowleys

6. j*hnny d*pp crowley

the fact that this was a possibility is the scariest thing i’ve ever found out. never mention this in front of me if you don’t want me getting extremely violent. i had to pixelate the picture because the edit i made was so horrifying i couldn’t let anyone else bare witness to it. think our timeline is the worst one? no. it’s the one where this happened.

5. movie crowley

why did crowley tell aziraphale to khs, why was that a thing? that’s literally all i know about what was planned for the movie but it’s enough. that is kinda funny though.

4. musical crowley

a step up from the more disgustingly terrible ones. he’s only fourth because i have no way of listening to or watching the whole thing (and if you do please dm me how). i really do love him, he’s silly and has a hangover when he hands over the antichrist to the nuns. a more grey-ish variation of the demon, like a refined glass of wine.

3. book crowley

listen, i love this guy. obviously i love this guy. however i have adhd and it took me a full fucking year to read the book because i HATE READING. him and the next one are so very close in ranking but i simply hate reading so much i’m putting him here out of spite.

2. bbc radio drama crowley

still haven’t listened to this, i very much want to. but from every single clip i’ve seen (or rather heard) of him, he’s my best friend, my pal, my rotten soldier, my sweet cheese and good time boy. also i love peter serafinowicz’ voice.

1. tv show crowley

obviously he’s here. who do you think i am? i really have nothing to say, you know why he’s number one, you’ve seen the show.

[magicmindless]

have any hcs for Emmlette?

Y’all I’m sorry it’s been so long since I’ve made one of these😭😭 mainly due to (lack of) interest in making these and other sorts of things

Anyways

A HC List but it’s just Emmlette

I really like her… theatre kid chicken lady…

- Very cheerful and sweet but is down-to-Earth. Being a transparent person, she can come off as a bit snarky sometimes but she only means well. She’s a gem to have around and usually tries her best to make people feel comfortable around her

- Has ADHD. It’s hard for her to focus and stay in one place, her thoughts overlap a lot, and she can be forgetful sometimes. She wasn’t diagnosed until her 20s. She uses medicine now to deal with it which helps her enough

- Developed depression for a good portion of her teenage hood and college years. She hated school and needed accommodations to barley keep her grades up but. Undiagnosed ADHD didn’t make it any easier

- Unsurprisingly she’s a theatre kid. It was one of the few classes she was good at and she always made sure to audition for every single musical/play Sakura Bay High ever did during her high school years (yes she went to Sakura Bay High and became a teacher there. Funny huh?)

- Her favorite musical is Into The Woods and she has a fond memory of it because she got to be the witch back in high school (I’m sorry I haven’t watched enough musicals and most of the ones I’ve watched idk if she’d like bear with me-)

- She used to write songs and play them on her piano as an outlet, even going as far as to record them though she’s never really shown them. She still has the recordings and admits that they’re really cringy looking back at

- Should be mentioned she’s actually really good at singing and playing the piano

- Her nails always look bad since she tends to bite or rip her nails whenever she’s bored or stressed out. Vicky nearly fainted seeing her nails for the first time

- The reason she became a theatre teacher was due to not only her having a lack on confidence in herself to make it big as an actress back then, but no one else at the time believed in her either, so she settled for teaching. She does sometimes wonder what could’ve been though…

- She does like teaching and has met some incredible students who’ve gone off to do great things, but teaching can also stress her out whether it’s from misbehaving students, or those who just have no interest and are taking theatre as only an “easy grade” in their eyes

- She’s not only a good support for her students, but also for her adult friends when they need someone to talk to or provide a shoulder to cry on

- Always had a bit of a chicken obsession. She had a neighbor who had chickens when she was little and she’d frequently go to their place to spend time with them. Now she has 4 of her own chickens named Scrambles, Tamagoyaki, Sunny, and Fluffles

- People think it’s weird that she doesn’t like to eat chicken out of guilt but is willing to eat eggs and other meat. It’s just an attachment thing for her

- Likes giving gifts to people randomly. Usually they are edible things like mochi or bread from a bakery but she also gives things like cute little keychains

- A great cook. She likes making cute bentos and stuff like that and has even cooked for her friends and family

- She’ll act like a mom sometimes trying to make sure her friends are eating enough and doing well. Some of her friends (like Petrona and Rollie) have found it irritating but they will sometimes tolerate it

- Is able to cry and stop crying on command. It’s a little disturbing, but helpful in acting

- Is the type of extrovert to adopt introverts, including Petrona

-She can read people’s faces and body language scarily well. Even if someone stands slightly off she can tell if there’s something wrong or bothering someone

- Keeps a bit of a close eye on Petrona since she always worries about her physical and emotional health due to her work ethic. She’ll usually try to do things like get food for Petrona’s lunch break or talk to her a bit if she suspects Petrona’s been crying/having a rough day. And despite Petrona’s annoyances, she seemed to have warmed up to her overtime

[miss-meri]

I’ve wanted to say this for months. Years? But it’s hard. I can feel myself losing my voice again. Fandom is important to me because in some ways I feel it’s the only way I can really connect with others.

My therapist said something interesting right when we met. After talking about my life and friends and worries, she said, like it’s the most obvious thing in the world, “Oh, so you’re an extrovert.”

?????

I have been scolded for being too quiet and too private and too scared of speaking to strangers since childhood. An extrovert?

But she’s not… wrong.

I was lonely, weird only child with too much of an intense interest in things no one else was interested in. Meteorology: I watched the weather channel like other people watched cartoons. Books: I read the same ones over and over and over. Star Trek: I sort of lived in space with them and got the nickname “little miss vocabulary” because of all the language I mimicked.

ADHD explains some of this, now. Very intense fixations with zero interest in anything that doesn’t align. And maybe I’m a little on the spectrum too, although I will not seek that diagnosis and don’t score high on the RAADS test.

I feel like most of my childhood was spent searching for someone who cared about things the way I did, and then coming up empty handed.

That’s not to say I was without friends!

I’ve always had friends. Close friends, starting in kindergarten and continuing on, even when I was years younger than everyone else, ahead a grade and getting bullied, even when I was bad at hiding how weird my interests are. That’s really lucky, and I’m grateful.

But having friends did not mean sharing my intense interests with them. They’d let me chatter about it, just like I listened to things I wasn’t interested in (boys mostly later on, this is long before I realized I was ace), but it wasn’t shared, if that make sense?

Fandom and my best friends were the first place I felt that mirrored back. Anime conventions. Writing stories together. Cosplay. Watching The Show and then reading The Fic and then discussing, endlessly. It is the high I’ve chased ever since. All my close relationships are based on it. I met my spouse through cosplay.

I finally had people!! I finally had people who understood what I was trying to say!!! And I understood them too, deep and unambiguous. Fandom is the best thing that’s ever happened to me. It’s driven me around the world, brought me joy and creativity and self-worth and new skills. I love it.

And then, my longest, deepest, and going-on-eight-years-strong hyper fixation: Yuri on Ice.

Holy shit.

Nothing has ever hit so hard. I spent literally years talking about it with other fans, every day creating. I’ve published over 400,000 words of fanfiction and have much more yet-unpublished. Before writing this post I wrote 2k. I think about it constantly and enjoy it for its own sake, as evidenced by how much of it I just don’t post anywhere at all. I love sharing but in the end fic truly is for me.

But the fandom has slowed down, in the natural way things do. It’s no one’s fault. There are plenty of other interesting things to see and read and do. All my precious friends have been moving on, one by one. And we’re still friends, don’t get me wrong! Of course we are. I have spoken with most of them every day for years, and care deeply about their lives outside of fandom.

But what I’m trying to say is I’m an extrovert in a *very specific way*, and now I’m back in that place again. I can’t connect and have it reflected back, I can’t hear something new. There’s no end to it. Have been trying to have some space for grief. I have been getting quieter and quieter, and not feeling a lot to look forward to.

Been playing mobile games to fill the void and just feeling gray. I’m not sad, just. Faded out. It sounds so dramatic that I don’t want to even type all of this out. I want to say there’s no thesis, nothing I’m seeking, no end goal.

But maybe it’s the same as always: I want understanding.

So that’s what’s up.

[rothjuje]

A quick list of what I miss most about Texas: stone creek, Buc-ees, all the amazing donut places, how close/convenient everything was, how laid back everything was. And my people of course.

I watched the weirdest movie last night. It was set in California and I think I forgot how beautiful it is there, just flowers everywhere. But also, I haven’t experienced spring here. I did see the Boston public garden in May and it was like something out of a fairytale, flowers so big I thought they were fake at first.

I was definitely the biggest whiner ever about snow. It hasn’t snowed in two weeks. With no plans to snow next week either, in fact we’re supposed to have two days in the 60s! Which I don’t think is the norm for here at all and climate change is terrifying. But wanted to note we only had one snowy week and in hindsight it was not a big deal at all. In fact, I miss it. We didn’t even have time to make a snowman!

First thing yesterday morning, before I had even put my glasses on, a kid asked me to blow up a balloon. It wasn’t even half full when it exploded into my right eye. It was so painful I couldn’t even scream. I just remember kicking the couch in agony thinking my eye had exploded. Five minutes later when I could finally open it I realized it was (mostly) fine. But oh man. Close your eyes when you blow up balloons, folks.

Apparently Justin has a yearly meeting that falls over Valentine’s Day. This year and next it’s Feb 13-14. He celebrated with the kids this am and then left for the airport. In our last house, I used to get super freaked out when he left on work trips. We lived by the woods, but we had a fence and I knew all our neighbors and I was still freaked out.

Here we actually live in the woods, we don’t have a fence, I don’t know all our neighbors, we find animal remains on our property—but I feel safe here, go figure. I don’t know if it’s because I view Mass as safer than Texas, or because of neighbor friends. I was close with my old neighbor too, but she was a frail old lady. I know if there was ever an issue with an intruder or the house or a wild animal my bff’s husband would be here in 30 seconds. We also just keep a general lookout for each other. Good neighbors are such a gift. Also, Peabody has become such a guard dog since moving here/being the only dog. It’s annoying usually (especially when he scares people) but nice when Justin is traveling.

Why is it that in above freezing temps our lawn turned brown in Texas every winter? Here we had below zero temps and our lawn is still green. Grass type? Maybe we have moss? I don’t know but I’ll take it.

Can you train cats? I have a friend who swears she can train her cats to stay off counters and leave her plants alone but I just don’t believe her.

I was thinking the other day about how people appear online vs in person. I’ve been told by people lately that I’m high energy and I ask a lot of questions. The question thing is a problem I’m working on, I’m just insanely curious. About everything. All the time. It does make me lol though that people think I’m high energy because I always feel half asleep. Maybe it’s the ADHD. Anyway. I just think it’s interesting that we create personas for people as we read about their lives, like we do for characters in a book.

[6knotty6thotty6]

Unpopular Friendship Opinion

Ever since I joined the furry fandom, there's been a pet peeve I've been noticing, specifically with streamers and artists.

Don't try to force your way into people's cliques by constantly meddling in their conversations or doing grand gestures like buying expensive gifts or making a ton of free art. If you can tell that a clique is permanently closed off and won't let new people in, just accept it and move on. I've seen so many people see a steamer or an artist they really like and try desperately to be their friend in the worst ways possible. For starters, there's in infamous "hi" dm. Don't do this, ever. No one in the history of the internet has ever sparked a friendship that way. On the streamer's side, it's random chat members asking invasive questions. Or when the streamer is collabing with someone, or is talking about collabing with someone, and the random chat member asks if they can join. Like, no. They don't know you. Collabs are for their friends, not randos. Also, never invite yourself to something that was only meant for friends. If it's not an open event and the conversation for sed event was made by people who are clearly friends, don't butt-in and act like you can just show up. I also understand that some people just lack the social clarity to form friendships organically. Neurodivergencies such as Autism and ADHD can definitely inhibit one's social awareness and intelligence. So some people are just too awkward to communicate with new people.

Sometimes you can be good friends with everyone in a clique, but they won't officially let you in. People in cliques have outside friends all the time, but they're still low-priority and the last to be chosen for hangouts compared to their best friends within the clique. Is that fair? Probably not, but oh well. Who people choose as their best friends is not your choice to make.

People who've been lonely for a long time are also prone to being clingy to anyone who shows them an ounce of kindness. Just because someone is nice to you doesn't mean they want to be your friend. Being nice is just the right thing for a decent human being to do. There are plenty of people who are beloved by many but still only call 10 people their friends and only 3 their best friends. Clinginess is also a toxic trait that no one likes.

It's usually nothing against you. Some people are just extremely picky over who their best friends are. Or they just like the number of people and the dynamic of their clique as is, and adding a new person would disrupt that. Another sad truth is some people have a history of being betrayed and/or abandoned by their so-called friends and aren't able to open their hearts to new people, so they stay in their comfort zone.

People also severely underestimate just how much hard work comes into maintaining friendships. It requires constant and consistent communication to build up a friendship. Even if you don't chat directly every day, you still have to do some form of continuous bonding. This is why videogames and/or social media platforms like Twitch and Discord have been great gateways to so many friendships. So some people have just reached their emotional limits for friends and don't have the time or energy to make more.

I know the frustration of seeing other people experiencing the joys of best friends when that's something you've never had. I also know what it's like to be a "low-priority/odd-one-out" friend. This is why I was also guilty of being a desperate meddler. I didn't have anyone to call my best friend until I was 23 (I'm currently 24). It wasn't until I got my own clique that I realized how terrible and embarrassing that was. When I asked them why they let me in, they said it was because they liked my personality and wanted to get to know me more. I met them through Twitch and Discord. I was just chatting casually and trying to be a good supportive member of the community. That's really all it takes to make friends. Just be a generally kind and caring person, and you'll either find your tribe or you'll be invited to be part of one. It takes a long time. I took me a good 6 months, but it will happen eventually.

[iamnathanieldanger]

Just spent a couple days at the (very conservative) church camp I grew up at visiting family, and the new dosage of my ADHD meds had me very introspective about the whole thing.

To put some context into how important this place has been to me: between nine months and twenty-one years old, I was here every year. My mom grew up here. We have dozens of relatives that go. My grandfather has preached in the chapel many times.

Many of the longest lasting friendships of my life were born here. My close college friend group all grew up at the camp. My college internship was with a leader I met through the camp.

I went through the entire childhood curriculum. I stayed in the dorms from 6-12. I counseled in the dorms for two years when I was in college. I’ve responded to altar calls and got direction for my life and received messages from God. It fundamentally shaped my faith—primarily in good ways. It’s the place where I learned forgiveness, gratitude, faith, compassion, and more. But it’s also the place where I learned shame, anxiety that I’d miss my calling, and some pretty unhealthy ideas about romantic relationships.

I have not stayed for an entire (ten day!) session since my last counseling experience (initially because of conflict with the youth director, but then because of general growing up and life changing stuff). I do not intend to ever again, but I’ve gone up for some weekends to visit family, and will likely do that more regularly since having a child. That said, many people who grew up here STILL come every year. I saw many people I knew as a child, whose kids are now going through the same programs we grew up going through.

As much as this place as meant to me, it has become a pretty handy microcosm of the specific brand of faith that I have largely abandoned. I’m not sure how much of the population votes for non-Republican candidates, but it would not be something they advertise.

As I walked the grounds and reconnected with folks (and waited in a super long line for ice cream on my own), I had a few realizations that bright me a lot of clarity.

First was just how narrow most of these people’s experiences are. I saw maybe ten POC in the 2,000+ people there. Most of them live in predominantly conservative small towns, suburbs, or rural communities. They almost exclusively come from an economic position that gives them the freedom to afford to take ten days off of work and buy a camper or build a cabin. Their communities are filled with people who look, speak, think, and pray like them. But, most of them know missionaries overseas, so that widens the self-perception of their experience. Most of the friendships at camp go back generations so these perspectives are further enforced.

Ignorance itself is not a Vice. We do not know what we do not know. But I’ve seen the way they rile up when the edges of their experiences get pricked at. I’ve seen how hard some of them have fought to keep their boats from being rocked. I know dozens of relationships that have been cut off or significantly pulled back when one side starts exploring ideas outside of that circle—different political positions, different perspectives of doctrine, different sexualities or gender expression, etc.

Regarding these now-outsiders, there is a sort of idea that if they were actually serious about seeking God, they would come to camp. I jokingly addressed myself to some friends as being backslid, knowing full well that that’s kinda how they feel. In this idea, they ignore any hurt that might have been experienced from this community: particularly how unwelcome queer folks and deconstructing folks would be back at camp. There is an almost wholesale dismissal of the insurmountable anxiety that would be faced by reentering a community filled with people who have caused some deep, deep wounds. Besides, they should just forgive them anyway.

My own wounds are not nonexistent, but they are slight compared to many of the stories I know. But even I had some underlying anxiety as I was around the grounds. I found myself raising my guard up in a way I haven’t in a long while. Conversations would take subtle turns that set me on edge—casual comments that would remind me that I was not in a place I could be honest.

A thought kept bubbling up: what if they’re right? What it purity culture and conservative politics and fundamentalist doctrine and American exceptionalism and rapture watching and young earth creation and eternal conscious torment were all the truth, and I was backslid and headed for a specific version Hell that I don’t believe in anymore?

I would remember the long path that brought me here—all the study and prayer and experiences that led me to shed those ideas in the first place. I would remember how recent and rare and exegetically flimsy they are. And on top of that—if that is who God really is, I’m not sure I want it.

In spite of all this, I don’t doubt any of the immense, lasting moves of God that I experienced there. But all of these moments seemed to come in spite of the community’s tendencies. Moments where God reached out through the boxes we stuffed Him into and shattered the walls we built around our faith. I still trust that He can move in the same way again. And I hope against hope that these people listen.

[tellthemeerkatsitsfine]

I have two full seasons of Britcom sitcoms that I’ve not yet listened to, but have downloaded and ready to. They are wildly different from each other:

Honestly, I probably should be sick of Not Going Out by now. I first watched it three years ago, when watching WILTY early in the pandemic sent me down a path of obsessively watching the collected works of David Mitchell and Lee Mack (and reading both their autobiographies). Lee Mack particularly interested me, for a bunch of reasons, only a few of which are defensible. A big one is that I horribly missed a good friend of mine, who coaches a team about five hours away from me, whom I normally saw most weekends at tournaments, but the pandemic meant I didn’t know how long it would be before I’d see him again. It ended up being nearly three years, I saw him again for the first time since March 2020 in December 2022. In May 2020, I knew I had a long stretch ahead, and I missed him so much. Obviously I missed a lot more than that, I missed my sport and all the people in it and all the things about it, but this one guy was the only really close friend I had from outside my own city, so the only one I knew I wouldn’t be able to see until travel became safe again, so I thought about him a lot.

May 2020 was when I watched WILTY all the way through (I’d seen a few episodes of it in previous years, but had never sat down to watch all of it), and used it to cope with the world ending. It’s relevant to note, at this point, that my out-of-town friend whom I missed has a fucking massive case of ADHD. A case of ADHD that can be seen from space. And I know every person with ADHD is different, but in this case, every symptom presented exactly the way it does in stereotypes. We made the perfect team when we worked together (to bring down the corrupt and predator-protecting systems in our sport, or so we thought, though looking back, we didn’t accomplish much of anything) – I, being compulsively organized, could actually keep track of everything the way he never could. And he could stand up and talk to people and take risks and put himself out there the way I never could.

Anyway. I'm getting side tracked here, but the point is that there’s a chance that that may have impacted on why I liked Lee Mack so much on the first proper WILTY watch, the way he violently exuded that same stereotypical ADHD energy every time he opened his mouth. There may be a similar explanation to my strong attachment to Rhod Gilbert. Either way, I wanted to see everything Lee Mack had ever done.

So in summer 2020, I watched every episode of Not Going Out that had aired as of then. It probably wasn’t the best use of my time. There were a lot episodes, and it wasn't really great enough to justify the time commitment. I mean, obviously it’s meant to be good, but it’s not meant to be revolutionary or anything. The fact that it’s a formulaic sitcom is by design. Lee Mack liked the sitcom formula, he created a show that followed it, and then relentlessly continued along that path for two decades, watching the comedy revolution happen around him and resolutely and intentionally ignoring it. He didn’t want the revolution. He wanted a classic multi-camera sitcom.

Not Going Out is better than most other formulaic sitcoms. It’s very joke-dense, which is impressive even if not every single joke is laugh-out-loud funny. Its writing is quicker and sharper and stronger than what you’d get in some paint-by-numbers sitcom that was created by someone who wasn’t passionate about that genre.

I’m not sure Lee Mack is a great actor, but he’s good at playing the character he’s written for himself. And at this point, it’s come back around from being tired and formulaic, to being classic. At times during Not Going Out’s run, that kind of formula was incredibly common, the sitcom market was oversaturated with it. Now, that sort of thing is rare, as trends veer toward something with more depth and realism. I like those trends, I think depth and realism are good things in a comedy TV show. But given that everything is going in that direction, I think it’s nice that we still have Not Going Out in 2023, a relic of a formula that served us for a long time, and that has plenty of potential for humour.

The main thing is that Lee Mack watched all those eras happen. He watched the years when that formula was common, the years when it was out of fashion, and then the years when it started to make a comeback for being “classic”. He watched other styles come and go. And all the while, he just kept making what he loved and wanted to make.

I hugely respect that about Lee Mack. He was one of the first comedians I got really into in my pandemic-era Britcom obsession, and now that I’ve gotten more into comedy, I’ve learned more about what styles and sub-genres I like, and mostly, Lee Mack isn’t really it. But he remains one of my favourite comedians because he does what he does well. It does make me laugh. He does it with an amazing amount of competence and care, and the result is funny, even to someone who would not call that their favourite style. I’m really glad that I got so familiar with his work (not just WILTY and his stand-up DVDs and Not Going Out, but also his autobiography and The Sketch Show and Duck Quacks Don’t Echo and a few other things). I think he’s very intelligent and very talented. So of course I will watch season 13 of Not Going Out, even if it’s not entirely my thing.

I haven’t started Bridget Christie’s show yet, so I can’t really speak to that one. I’ve heard a bit of her recent stand-up about menopause, and I’ve liked it, and I know her TV show The Change draws on that subject, so that sounds good to me.

Honestly, given her profile and work, it’s weird that she hasn’t had a show like this before now. I do like that genre of comedy TV show – the sitcom (and/or “dramady”) where a particular comedian wrote something semi-autobiographical, and then played a fictionalized version of themself in the lead role. Shows vary in terms of how autobiographical they are, and how fictionalized the main characters are. Other examples of this genre that I’ve seen include: The Dutchess (Katherine Ryan), Grandma’s House (Simon Amstell), Ladhood (Liam Williams), This Way Up (Aisling Bea), Feel Good (Mae Martin), Out of Her Mind (Sara Pascoe), Moone Boy (Chris O’Dowd), Josh (Josh Widdicombe), GameFace (Roisin Conaty), Starstruck (Rose Matafeo), and for that matter, Not Going Out (Lee Mack). I’m looking forward to seeing Bridget Christie’s addition to genre, it sounds like exactly the sort of thing she does well.

[chaoticpeachtea]

Letting go of my fears

The last full moon was an odd one to me. The days leading up to it my mind was filled with thoughts and feelings about my fears and blockages, and how they affect me. Oh, and how they have affected me!

Some of them are rooted in trauma (such as abandonment), others are irrational and learnt in childhood (like spiders and bugs). Whatever their origin may be, on bad days they are prevalent and very annoyingly in-your-face. They can be helpful as well - sometimes. Let’s look at arachnophobia, the fear of spiders. While utterly irrational in areas that don’t have any venomous ones, being aware of them can save your behind in others. This paranoia makes sure you’re aware of your surroundings and has (hopefully) taught you how to deal with a possible bite. Fears shouldn't control your life, however, or make you completely obsessed. But what if it does?  In my experience the fear of abandonment (autophobia) takes control of you so ridiculously easy. It’s constantly in your head, makes you question everything, any and every disagreement and argument is a sign of impending doom. If you lack confidence and security, it can even force you to change your behaviour and personality in favour of approval and affection from another person. In all of that clinginess you lose yourself.  The past year taught me a lot about myself and how my brain works. My ADHD was identified so very late and I had plenty of catching up to do. During this soul searching and research I recognised how it works with my fears. The overthinking is not helpful at all, and I’ve hyper focused on my fears during depressive episodes. It scared the crap out of me to see me tearing myself apart and thinking such horrible things. Clinging so hard on any and every positive word, desperately trying to keep it alive in fear of losing them. Abusing myself and accusing my friends and family of untrue things in my head. I don't want to do this ever again. Never again do I want to hand control over to fear and doubt. With the help of therapy and tons of self reflection I am doing better now. I’ve observed the patterns occurring in my brain, the triggers of certain feelings and thoughts, and closely watched the way my brain comes to conclusions. Then, bit by bit, I adjusted and learned. I regained consciousness, independence and confidence. I started to believe in myself and my strength again. So here we are, shortly after this magical, warm and illuminating full moon. I declared to myself and the universe that I am done being afraid, that I’m letting go of my past, that I’m stepping through the fire and am leaving my bubble. I know I am more than that. I believe in myself and the path I’ve chosen. Farewell and goodbye, my now old fears and harmful patterns. May you remain in my past. Hello and welcome, change. May you continue help me grow and heal.

[lunarshadowfae]

Personal journal entry 1: I’ve been a victim. My life has consisted of failure after failure. I’ve lost all semblance of myself in motherhood. It feels pathetic. My relationship with my partner is disappointing to say the least. I love him dearly and deeply. I cherish him I am grateful eternally for his constant forgiveness and patience with me and my laundry list of flaws. But I do not feel loved by him, or appreciated at all. He doesn’t notice anything about me. I’ve never had a friend group or close friend that I truly connected with. My partner is the only person I’ve ever been close with, and he’s loved me but I feel so unfulfilled. I have never been more than who I am which is a disappointment to myself and my family. I’ve victimized myself for a long time, it’s been the only way I’ve been able to cope with my childhood abuse. I’ve been so unable to do anything to better myself. I’ve been so depressed for so long and I have so little motivation or energy to do anything with my life. Every last effort goes into caring for my daughter. I feel deep distain for who I am. I want to do so many things I want to be capable of going after my goals but I just don’t. I feel so incapable. There’s this pain and pressure in my stomach/chest anytime I try to have discipline and it feels so exhausting to do small things. I constantly have terrible anxiety but it manifests in anger and rage. I am deeply afraid that my self hatred will manifest into me becoming a narcissist, only thinking of myself because I hate myself so much. I recently read this book called The Mastery Of Love and in that book there’s a quote that says “no one wants to be around a big victim all the time” those words have stuck to me like glue for weeks and I think that all the time. “No one wants to be around you”. I see myself as a victim to all my flaws and mistakes. Always making excuses for myself as to why I can’t do things, why I can’t have discipline. I know I have adhd, I’ve had it my whole life and can’t get medication because I do not have insurance. (Is this just another excuse)? Every time I try to rationalize anything I find myself hating myself for making excuses. Does anyone else feel this way?

[rhazimpulsivelyposts]

I just saw a sticker that says “I love at work and I visit home sometimes” and I want it for when I get that new position at work I want lmao 🤣

It’s so hard to both hype up how much on the position without making the boys feel like they are going to hurt my feelings if I am not chosen for the position. 🤣 like I’m trying to walk the line of “I’m perfect for this, vote me. I’ma get it, I know I’ma get it cause I’m great and it’s so perfect for my lifestyle and how I want my life to go” and “I understand if I don’t get it because I’m so new to the job type. I have realistic expectation on if I fit the role completely over others I work with. I promis I will not be upset or complain or talk shit if I don’t get the position over someone else”

Like I promise me hyping this up is just me trying to stay positive and speak like , dress for the job you want right? Speak about like it is already true and it has a higher chance of becoming true. That doesn’t mean if it doesn’t come true I am going to be devastated. I promis my ego is in check for this but is just loudly proclaiming awesomeness to show confidence because people love a btch with confidence.

Confident people get farther in life and that’s why all the psychopaths rule everything 🤣 I’m not quiet to psychopath levels of low empathy but … you know… I’m pretty self serving and annoyed by others negative emotions 🤣

I read somewhere though that it isn’t that I don’t have empathy, it’s that I’ve gone through so much that other people trauma is unrelatable to me and my adhd stops me from processing the language they use to describe it. I think that’s why I cry at every movie, but not at people. I just don’t understand the full picture of your life as to why you made decisions that led you down that path that now caused you to be complaining about something 🤣. The adhd medication helps though, I can have emotionally intelligent conversations now with my dopamine and norepinephrine flowing smoothly through my brain.

It’s wild how much those two chemicals , actually intaking them at a normal amount , has changed so much of how I think about things. It made me better at communicating while also deciding I don’t believe in monogamy. I think it made me pansexual? It made me hate eating eggs now. The feeling of Rage is basically non-existent anymore which was an everyday blood boiling emotion I would feel. I can actually feel grateful for people around me and things they have done for me instead of always thinking it’s me against the world and I do absolutely everything for myself. (I do a lot for myself but I have had help and people who care about me and it’s nice to process that now and actually see it)

When I got on my medication like legit a half a year in I went “oh this is why neurotypicals cheat on their partners” , I didn’t cheat on my partner though I stuck it out for another year and a half and then I left because I don’t want to hurt him anymore with the fact that I love him and want him in my life but I’m not in love with him and I want to be non-monogamous. I don’t want to live with someone and then go fck around and come back to the same bed , that feels fcked up for some reason. My morals are soooo fcked though because I definitely don’t care if men are in relationships anymore when I flirt with them. Like yeah I didn’t cheat on my partner, I left, but you should totally cheat on yours with me because monogamy isn’t real and men are weak willed. 🤣 I’m such a villain now. If anyone ever thinks I’m a good person, just know that I’m not. I’m shallow, I talk shit, I don’t like helping people unless it’s at work for some reason, and I WILL fck your man if I think he’s hit and he’s down. And I won’t tell you, unless you are a close friend and then I probably won’t fck your man but I only have like 4 close friends so …. Most of them are male and they are males I’m not attracted to 🤣 .

[lucygraysboy]

“thank you, doll. both you and my ma are to blame for that.” for who he is today. “yeah, ‘cause we take playwriting classes together and there’s only eighteen people in our group so it’s impossible to avoid blair the grinch. but i guess that’s life, right? you sometimes have to spend time with people you don’t particularly like.” comes an honest answer, followed by a sweet smile and a shrug. it’s no big deal. “alright, glad we’ve got that settled early on and that we agree on three,” he laughs, melting into a puddle the longer he dwells on the possibility of a future like that — just them and their babies. “do we want them to be close in age?” they’ve had this conversation before, countless times while playing house, but he can’t help himself. it’s his favorite thing in the world. daydreaming with her. “hey, no… froot loops are my friends. they don’t rot my insides. if they’re so bad, why don’t they hurt my belly, huh?” huffing as he turns into a froot loops’ defense attorney, billy picks up the familiar red box again and turns it over to scan the list of ingredients. “mmm, maltodextrin! don’t know what it is, but it sounds absolutely delicious,” he muses, sarcasm heavy in his voice, pale blue eyes widening the longer they linger on the small text on the side. “red 40, yellow 5 and 6, blue 1. it’s a wonder i don’t glow in the dark.” which could be a possible side effect of having this radioactive mix for breakfast almost every single day. “but look, here it says, vitamins and minerals.” he points his finger to the bolded letters, brows furrowing in confusion. how can it have both?

“and didn’t god also create froot loops?” he inquires seriously, struggling to keep his composure when lucy gray goes on a rant about god’s creations and fake food, it takes him back in time to when he was just a little boy and she’d lecture him like this at least once a day. his heart soaring sky-high, ocean hues brimming with nothing but sheer admiration, he even finds himself nodding absently in agreement. she’s so cute when she’s all worked up like this. “well, yeah, but also back in the day, a lot of diseases went undiagnosed due to the lack of resources. not enough doctors with proper training. if you were infertile, it was god’s will. if you had cancer, it probably went undiagnosed until it was too late. and i don’t think they even knew what adhd or autism were. they labeled those people as crazy, put them in institutions and went on with their lives.” he wouldn’t be himself if he simply agreed with her. he has to try and rile her up, coax another rant out of her. 

“i don’t think i’ve ever had organic froot loops.” thinking out loud, he finds himself nodding along to her little lecture. after all, there are things that even he can’t argue with. he inspects the box that she’s holding, doesn’t spot any strange ingredients and figures he’ll have to remember to only buy this kind in the future. “cocaine and bad food equal each other? does that mean we’re skippin’ mcdonald’s tomorrow and findin’ ourselves a local dealer instead?” he teases with a laugh, loving how passionate she is about eating healthy, impressed by how much she knows on the subject. “the blue one,” he repeats, but this time doesn’t argue, couldn’t when she’s smiling at him so sweetly. he simply puts the jar of jif’s peanut butter back on the shelf and reaches for the one called richard’s. 100% peanuts. sounds promising, he thinks, handing it to lucy gray before pushing the cart farther down the aisle. candy. he’ll make sure to find organic gummy bears so she doesn’t take them away. “i mean, since you want to have my babies, guess i need to make sure they don’t grow up fatherless and crippled,” he deadpans, struggling to remain serious for a second longer. “you’re the cutest, pajarita. you know that, right? an actual angel.” even when she tells him to save the pie for tomorrow. “hey, what’s that? did i spot a paparazzo?” laughing when she pulls out her phone and takes a picture of him, he makes sure to beam at the camera. it’s followed by a series of goofy faces, his tongue out, eyes crossed, beanie pulled halfway down his face, to give her some extra footage. “aww, look at yourself! my new lock screen.” and he does just that, sets the photo of lucy gray with the biggest smile on her lips, hands forming a heart, as his brand new lock screen, then shows it to her, seeking approval.

“well, i am proud you are that guy.” she replies honestly, not afraid to admit that part. “you have to spend more time with them?” lucy gray wonders, after catching how he said that part. “that works too.” the brunette amusingly smiles, she wouldn’t mind that either. “i don’t care if they’re delicious, they’re rotting your insides. especially if your eatin’ them everyday.” she shook her head, she was very big on eating from the earth and growing her own things. when she couldn’t eat her own garden in the winter or at inconvenient times like now, she always tried to eat whatever is the healthiest at the store.

“god didn’t give us wholesome foods to fill our bodies with fake food. yes it does affect our bodies. what we eat is important. does a flower blossom and grow if you feed it bad stuff? it don’t, right? it doesn’t flourish at all. our bodies work the same way. food dyes and the same ingredients they put in bleach does affect our health and future children— why do you think things like cancer, infertility, adhd and autism were lower back in the old days? oh, cause there wasn’t all this processed food dye crap.” her brow perks, giving him a knowingly look.

“besides that…organic food is tastier anyway.” so she doesn’t see what the big deal is. she takes this box of cereal he chooses and stands up in the cart to throw it back on the shelf, getting down the organic version of froot loops. switching the back over. “colored pretty with natural things AND made with real sugar. and with a total of eight ingredients opposed to that box…” the kelloggs she points at, “that has like FIFTY ingredients just for cereal. mmhm.” smiling triumphantly, sitting back down and placing the organic cereal in their cart. “oh, cocaine and bad food probably equal each other.” cocaine probably is safer at this point. grinning at the kiss beneath her eye, her heart picking up every time he comes close to her like that, hands that placed on his cheeks slip away when he pulls back to grab peanut butter.

“no…not that one darlin’. go with the natural one, that’s called richards. in the blue jar.” she sweetly smiles, at least he’s trying. she appreciates that. “oh, but when you listen to me about eatin’ healthy— you’ll have the strength of hulk to build one hundred bird feeders. you can get pie, but save it for tomorrow.” so his system doesn’t overload on so much sugar in one sitting. when he takes a picture of her, lucy gray smiles for it and holds a heart shaped sign up. once it snaps, she gets the idea to get the other point of view for her instagram and camera roll so she takes out her phone and turns it on her camera app to get a picture of him rolling the cart like a mom.

[3rdoption]

I’ve been thinking a lot about happiness lately, about what it is and what it isn’t. On her podcast, my friend is always challenging people to seek joy, to follow your bliss. Marie Condo asks us, “does it spark joy?”

I’m a very in-my-head kind of person. Over my 4+ decades I’ve often mourned that my partner, best friend, sisters don’t want the things I want, that if they really knew me they’d show up at my house announcing, “Get in bitch, we’re going bowling”, or hug me for no reason, or spam me with memes, or want to talk about movies till 2 am. But thing is, in these scenarios, THEY are the one’s initiating, THEY’RE the ones putting in the effort. And, have I ever actually asked for these things? Also, in these scenarios I’m always in the right headspace and have the time and energy at the time. The reality is if they showed up on a Wednesday night after an exhausting day and my hair is greasy and I’m already in my pjs, it would probably stress me out and going out would fill me with dread.

I have ADHD, depression, and a general anxiety disorder, and Doing The Thing™️ has always been extremely hard for me. Initiating almost anything can feel like a herculean task. But, seeking is a verb, an action word. If I want joy, I have to be the one to go get it. Love the smell of water drying on a sun-baked dock? Go to the lake! Love the feel of the wind in your face on the trail? Get on your bike! Dreaming about trying a fancy pastry you’ve never had? Go to the bakery. You get my point.

Happiness is not a thing you hold on to, it’s not something you can have, it’s not a state of mind, and it never lasts. You can’t depend on other people to give it to you. Happiness is a conscious choice, one you need to make every single day. And for some of us, it’s hard as fuck. Accepting your own agency and responsibility in this can be a hard pill to swallow. But it’s one that needs to be acknowledged.

A great quote that really resonates with me is: build the kind of life you don’t want to escape from. Damn, that shit is terrifying, and yes, in trying for that there’s a very real possibility of failure. But you’ll never know unless you try. And sometimes try, and try, and try, and try.

I’m beginning to think that happiness is more like a muscle that needs to be worked or a skill that needs consistent effort. There are naturally gifted artists out there, but the majority of them will tell you that they got where they are with dedication and practice . LOTS of practice. And I don’t think seeking joy is any different.

I’ve never been good at sticking with things I’m not instantly good at. I don’t like the not knowing, the looking like a fool. Trying to initiate things with people and being turned down can be incredibly disappointing and frustrating. But assuming they’ll reject your ideas every time can be a trap. Maybe they’re in the same head space waiting for you to reach out first. Maybe last time they said no, but still really appreciate being asked.

And have you communicated, and I mean really communicated want you want and need? Or, are you trying not to be a burden, to not be clingy, or needy, or too much?

Needs are ok, wants are ok too. And you’re not too much, you’re enough. You are worth the time and energy and effort it takes to find beauty and happiness every single day. And maybe that happiness is just a moment,a warm beam of sun, a child’s giggle, a piece of chocolate after dinner. But it something, it’s a start.

And remember, joy is contagious. The more you have, the more will spread to others. Some people may judge you (fuck ‘em), but others will be inspired to find it for themselves.

So, put down the phone, step away from the computer, close your eyes, and ask yourself: what have I done today that makes me happy?