#and my adhd self has spaced for a whole week filling out a form for the out of state but licensed to prescribe in MT psychiatrist

[hiddenbysuccubi]

.

[neverluckygoldfish]

27 -

Life creeps up on you - I’ve slipped back into it and have gotten a little disconnected from my greater She.

Too much worrying about the future & unknowns, caught up in trying to control it. True, there have been a ton of changes in the past few weeks and there are more still to come (hello big cross state move in two weeks!!).

I feel a little numb. Also I’m on welly b and let me tell you that the increase in anxiety is so REAL. I feel on edge and a sense of foreboding. I haven’t slept for more than 4-5 hours a night in weeks. And those hours are spent tossing and turning. I keep waking up in panic mode, having nightmares. But we just adjusted the dosage so hopefully things improve. They have to.

With that being said, I recently hit 60 days of sobriety. I barely even acknowledged it because we were busy flying back and had gotten some really awful news that day. In fact, I’ve felt more of a craving to drink. But I don’t want to start the clock over and that keeps me going.

I feel stressed. And I don’t know how to let it go. It’s just sitting in my chest, heavy and tight.

The hospital slammed me with a $35k bill for 3 days because that’s our healthcare system. Fuck, I don’t know how I’m going to manage that seeing as I’m unemployed and living off of savings. But I’m allowing the fear and stress to enter me and sitting with it. What will it show me?

Part of me feels like I’m going to implode. Like I’m teetering at the edge of a cliff.

I tend to focus on the negative - negativity bias, I think it’s called. I’m always searching for something to fix within myself, my life. And I’ve stopped prioritizing my mental wellness.

Once I get something down, I move on quickly to the next thing. Before I know it, I’m eating skittles for breakfast / not drinking water / feeling tightness in my chest / ignoring meals / pulling out my hair / unable to sleep all over again. I need to give these things time to form habits that will actually stick.

Blame ADHD and the dopamine rush lol

So a gentle reminder for me to pause, slow down, focus on the good because I have so much to be thankful for.

Gratitude list:

My rock, my life partner, my best friend - my husband. Our love is full of understanding, compassion, trust, laughter, kindness, honesty & affection. I wouldn’t trade it for the world.

Life dreams. We are moving to the PNW in two weeks! It’s really happening. I’ve dreamed of living there (maybe romanticized it a little lol and no, not because of twilight *rolls eyes*) my whole life and now I am doing it!

My body. It’s not as skinny as it was but that is a good thing. I have been waging war against it - filling it with poison, not supplying its essential needs, neglecting it. But it stays true to me and has not let me down health wise even through addiction. I have more energy these days and my thinking isn’t so cloudy.

Therapy. Having access to therapy & finding a good therapist is a privilege.

My mom. We don’t agree and she drives me nuts. But truly, she wants me to be happy and although overbearing at times, she protects me and anchors me.

Friends - I have some really good people in my life. I must not be so terrible as I think I am in my head if so many people love me LOL. But I have friends who have shown me grace and understanding as I try to navigate who I am now.

Recovery. I’ve been sober and am committed to staying sober. What a beautiful blessing and something I used to think was totally impossible.

Good food. Been cooking my own meals with loads of veggies and fruit - let me tell you that quality makes a difference. I firmly believe in a holistic approach to healing, not just taking a pill and calling it good.

Haven’t felt much of a desire to journal. Have spent way too much time trolling social media and it’s slowly having an impact. Pulling me back into the black, the space of self-loathing and hopelessness.

So I am making some changes. Going back to the basics. To be continued I suppose.

[thelightofthingshopedfor]

have 8 million things to do very soon and I can tell that I'm riiiiiight on the edge of a depression spiral (which is itself at least partly caused by being overwhelmed, dealing with it poorly and becoming more overwhelmed, and hating myself for dealing with it poorly) which is SUPER GREAT TIMING. so obviously I'm making a list, because sometimes that helps.

things I absolutely must do this weekend:

finish the hair repaint on my current Etsy order so I can mail it Monday or earlier

do anything I might need to do for the other outstanding order that the customer also wants in time for Christmas somehow, so that when the parts arrive on MONDAY I can put the thing together and mail it almost immediately (damn well better show up on Monday, which is itself irritating because the site said free 2-day shipping but nobody really means that when they ship to Alaska)

wrap and prepare any gifts I want to mail out because I should also send those no later than Monday, and in fact earlier would have been better, but for some reason every year I'm like "eh, it's fine, there's time" right up until there suddenly isn't

do...whatever I still need to do with Tumblr. import to Wordpress, back up the whole thing to my computer with one of several methods I've reblogged, try to find specific posts I want to save (original posts and anything tagged "fic ideas" will be tedious but at least easy to find; no idea about other stuff)

semi-related: add something to my Dreamwidth profile so it's not...blank

haul some more stuff to Value Village and other donation sites, because I’m about to pick up a bunch of shit that will take up too much space in my car (somewhat related: books, music, movies, and toys are 40% off today and tomorrow, which is unusual for them)

set up the damn tree, like even if we don't put ornaments on it I'd at least like to have the tree up (requires digging it out of the garage, which is a disaster and very much not my disaster)

do something with my dad and sister for my birthday (but first, figure out what and when, and like...I don’t have the mental energy for that)

try to get more birthday donations for SPLC (I went with Trevor Project last year and got several donations without doing much to promote it, so I don't know if this one's getting a lot less because it seems more political, or algorithms are hiding this and a lot of my other posts, or a lot of people have deliberately snoozed me because of my political posts, or...something else, idk)

transfer stuff into my new planner, because my current one is close enough to the end that it's not very useful anymore

other things that don't necessarily have to happen this weekend but should happen in the really near future, both because they need to get done and because they're contributing to my overall mental load that means everything is overwhelming:

figure out how to send in the claim for my car accident last year to my life-insurance-and-a-few-other-things company, because it's worth $50 (should probably also see if I can get something similar for the earthquake, because I think it did fuck up my neck a little more, and $50 is $50 when I'm paying them that much each month)

list other things on Etsy...now that it's too late to take advantage of holiday sales 😖

sign up for actual training with Hazy

also, bug the rescue group again about recent vet info to figure out whether she has any pre-existing conditions and when she needs a checkup (maybe soon, because she seems to scratch herself a LOT and sometimes she gets kind of wheezy)

also also, try to figure out ways to work on her separation anxiety and general hyperness, which I DON'T KNOW HOW TO DO because it's all a gradual process that I don't really have time for, and I have yet to find a smart/puzzle toy or a good chew toy that really seems to occupy her attention so I guess I still need to try more, and apparently mental stimulation through training can be good for anxiety and hyperactivity both so I should really be working on extremely basic commands on my own probably??

shit that's right I also need to figure out if I want to get her on VCA Care Club and do research for pet insurance that might be better than the one we had for Scully

get myself back into a better Planet Fitness habit, because I didn't go at all this week and I've definitely dropped off in the last few weeks, which is partly because I've been busy with other things INCLUDING THE GIANT EARTHQUAKE but partly because the main reason I was good about it before was that I literally tricked myself into wanting to work out so I could listen to The Adventure Zone, and once I caught up on that, nothing else I've tried (MBMBAM, occasional TAZ updates, Night Vale) has quite filled the gap of "hilarious goofs + suspenseful long-form narrative" that makes me actually want to work out, so...either I need to figure out how make myself go without that motivation (mixed success so far or I wouldn't be talking about it or feeling guilty about it) or find another podcast I want to binge. and try to figure out if there's any point to asking them to stop playing so many news channels (especially Fox two or three times and fucking OAN once) at the TV bank for the cardio machines, because that is...honestly another thing that makes me not want to go

related: somehow find a way to make myself do my core exercises regularly, because slacking on those and slacking on Planet Fitness is probably part of the reason my headaches and neck and general constant exhaustion have maybe been worse lately, AND ALSO start regularly doing the exercises that are supposed to help with my newish hand/wrist pain, all of which sucks because a big ol' theme here is me having a hard time forming un-fun new long-term habits (exercise, going to bed earlier) that are crucial for improving basically every part of my life and not worsening the health problems i already have

TYPE UP MY DAMN NOTEBOOKS and organize everything so I actually know how much I have in my current WIPs; now that my computer is back there's no excuse for not doing this

also like...write. in general. now that I have a Christmas-related idea I'd kinda like to do and I also want to do a Yuletide treat, and maybe Avengers: Endgame isn't really a deadline for lots of other fics but also it kind of is

actually organize my backups so they're not a disaster and it's not a crisis next time I have computer problems (plus like, I'm going to need everything backed up when I upgrade)

research and buy a CPU, motherboard, SSD, and maybe new PSU, ideally without spending a horrendous amount of money

make more progress in SWTOR because there's no guarantee how long it's going to be around and tbh it's ridiculous I haven't finished all the class storylines despite having been a subscriber for like. SEVEN YEARS

unfuck my iTunes library YET AGAIN

find a therapist, because I've probably been needing one for a while but a huge theme in all of this is being overwhelmed because I have too much to do and don't know how to deal with it, and then getting into guilt and self-loathing because I dealt with it badly and it got worse, and I'm increasingly sure it's my not-really-diagnosed-or-treated ADHD starting this old, old cycle to begin with and that means it's even more important to find a therapist who will actually. do stuff. with the ADHD. instead of just kinda...dropping it.

slight problem though, adding yet another regular appointment means less time for...everything else and that doesn't exactly help with being overwhelmed, so it's like...a disincentive to pursue it

the only thing I really want to do:

sleep for about a year

[sunnyfootsteps]

2020, to put it simply.

Even with a filled year of exciting activities planned, celebrating people, and working hard on my career - what a silver lining that a pandemic was finally able to make me stop. Every year got busier with making new friends, traveling more, and growing my career. It was amazing. Until, I realized fully one day that I couldn’t do it anymore. Heart break driven from something that gave my mind and soul a rest after two years, I was finally ready to do what I always wanted to do: leave. I didn’t want to leave because of my family, my friends, my career because they are... everything. But none of what I had was for me, not really. Just a life I ended up creating and putting together through my young adult life because when I didn’t like something, I overcorrected it and it usually stuck. Leading to a lot of extremes. And a lot of anxiety. I made the decision to get rid of the stuff that took space where I was living. Random trinkets that friends or old roommates left behind, clothes my boyfriends through the years have given me, gifts that were never used. To quit my job. To say goodbye to my loved ones. To finally leave during Jan 2021 in my car to travel across the country and recenter myself so I could finally push forward to create the woman I want to be while I saw the beautiful country my family and I grew up exploring (at least once before climate change changed it). I couldn’t do that here. To put it bluntly, I needed to fuck off. I always said “yes”. My weeks were long filled with 12 hour work days, friends that haven’t seen me in a while (but the groups were all split up, so there were lots of “catching up” activities and dinners on the same day with different groups), family activities, people that “needed their hair done last minute for the most important day of their life” every week, and romantic relationships that were never fulfilling because of loss/lack of communication and trust. “You can rest later”, was the biggest lie I told myself to get through. Every day dragged. Every week practically was the same shit. Every month there was something I had to kill myself reworking my whole schedule around. But all I wanted was to sit in the sun in my living room with my coffee and my animal friends laying around me. I always said “yes” to others, but always said no to myself. Not only did I start half-assing the life I was living (due to utter exhaustion, boredom, and depression) is where I really started to subconsciously kill myself. Not medicating myself correctly for my low thyroid or my ADHD was something I ignored for so long that I just did other stuff to counteract it and “help me get through the day”. Coffee was the only thing that kept me alive most days. I ate snacks and leftovers from family and friends when I came home, but ate out almost everyday because I didn’t have the time or energy to grocery shop or let alone meal prep. The time I did have for it was used for others or used for other house chores. I wasn’t giving myself proper nutrition. Lot of fast food phases. One week it was Wendy’s. Or it was Tim Hortons. Or it was Panera. I didn’t invite people over anymore or I constantly apologized for it for when people did come (not like I had time to plan anything myself anyway) because the time I did have to do laundry and vacuuming, it was usually too late. 2am is never the perfect time to run a load of laundry or vacuum when you live in an apartment complex. Thank god for my parents helping me with laundry by letting me drop it off. But the clothes pile still grew quickly along with the amount of fur I neglected to vacuum and I should’ve cleaned my basically empty fridge more because I never looked in there enough to keep up with it. I drank more alcohol than water, not because I wanted to, but because my social outings usually included a bar. Alcohol soon became a dependent to get me through another social battery killer event (because when you connect to 10 people a day in your chair, while connecting with your coworkers and then feel like you have to check and answer the 7 messages you received after only working a few hours during the only 5 minute break you have... it gets tiring to even form a sentence). It’s not that I don’t love the people I surround myself with, but it physically tires me. I never wanted to miss a moment in anyone’s (who I love) life. How I could say no when I didn’t want to deep down even though my body was saying “please for the love of god just go home and rest”. You could tell physically I wasn’t doing well. My psoriasis became uncontrollable by moving from my scalp to past the hairline, behind my ears, and eventually the bridge of my nose (due to stress and lack of self care), no products worked. I finally went to a dermatologist. But they recommended products I already have used with no luck. So I wore more makeup, kept it on for 18 hours, and could finally take it off. Barely giving it time to breathe before I had to suffocate it with foundation again. My hair was brittle and dry when I was finally out of the stage not bleaching the shit out of it. It felt better after going from blue, to pink, and to purple than it did when I left the color alone for months. I did the same 10 minute hairstyle everyday because it looked done when really I didn’t have the energy to deal with it and its problems. I just wanted to shave it off and not deal with it. I never really put much thought about emotionally vulnerability beyond romantic relationships. I didn’t trust people enough to become vulnerable to ask for help or accept their help like I would do for them my therapist and I have worked on that for the last few years now). I become overly paranoid and emotional if I did let people help me. I don’t know why I do that. I just do. Maybe it was my childhood, maybe it was my first romantic relationship, maybe it’s the years of bullying I endured, maybe it’s the years of bullying I did back - because I was so tired of being meek and picked on that I became angry instead. I don’t know. Maybe it’s all the above. Maybe it’s none of those things. 16-18 hour days being awake and fully “on” meant I kept up by taking naps in my car during my breaks at work. My coworkers always knew where to find me if they needed me. Soon those naps became less because I was blessed with the best job and became busier. That also meant every cancellation became blessings. I always told myself, “I’ll sleep when I’m dead” and that made it ok. 2020 I took a step back to look at my life and asked myself, “Where do I begin? “Because I am tired of distracting myself and it’s either I kill myself once and for all or I love life again.” I decided to love life again. I take steps forward and I take some back. The road is long as I look back from where I started this year. I decided last year that I don’t want to be angry anymore. I decided this past year that I won’t kill myself anymore. I’m deciding this upcoming year to break out of my comfort zone and really embrace my life for the first time. Becoming the person you want to be is a lot harder work than you expect. Forgiveness doesn’t come easy, the right choice isn’t always what you want, and relearning bad habits into better ones is a 24/7 conscious effort until it comes naturally. I’m still working on it, but I love how I’m creating the woman I wanted to be at 7 years old. My therapist would probably have a better explanation than I do for feeling the need to share this. Maybe it’s a personal challenge to be vulnerable. Maybe it’s an apology to people I’ve hurt (I will not enter anyone’s life again unless they want me to). Maybe it’s part of working through whatever trauma I hold onto. Maybe it’s because I hope it helps someone like me who has been dying for years and waiting for someone to tell them, “I went through this too and you’ll be ok.” But I do know that I don’t want to be sad anymore. I don’t want to barely survive anymore. I still have “bad brain days” and still have a hard time undoing some habits. However, I feel more fulfilled and content than I have in my life. End of the year always makes people feel bad for the things they haven’t done. I don’t feel bad this year for the things I didn’t do because it forced me to break a window in a burning house to escape the general unhappiness path I was paving for myself. I hope you find your window, whatever it is, to bring you peace in your life (and hopefully not when the building is on fire). Thank you.

[writerofblocks]

It’s a Process

[Note: This is an original work I submitted as part of a creative writing class. it’s kind of long, so I put it under a cut. I hope you enjoy.]

Two thousand words. How is anyone supposed to write a story that long? I mean, I know it’s technically possible; this definitely isn’t the first time this teacher has given out this assignment to a class, and it certainly won’t be the last. Page count wise, that’s like… ten, isn’t? That’s not much. Or at least it shouldn’t seem like as much as it does. The last story I wrote was 500 words- if you can even call something of that length a story- and it still felt like a stretch at the time.

At least it’s only a first draft. First drafts are allowed to be flaming garbage piles. And given that it’s due tonight and I only remembered its existence about thirty minutes ago, it’s a safe bet that this draft’s more likely to be a flaming garbage pile than not. Resisting the temptation to throw it all out and make it perfect is going to be a challenge. It’d feel better to wipe the slate clean than try to fix something that’s broken and worthless.

Wait. Stop. Thinking like that isn’t going to help.

What am I supposed to write about, anyway? The teacher said we could write about anything (within reason), but where am I supposed to go with that? Not sci-fi, I know that much. The amount of words I’d need for world-building would take up all the space given. I could write an elaborate fanfiction and disguise it by changing the names, but that just seems tacky. Besides, I already did it once this semester. Never again.

…Too hungry to think further. I need food.

The cafeteria’s a bearable enough place. At least there are a few staples I can get by on if the daily rotation of meals doesn’t work out in my favor. Though pizza every day has gotten pretty boring after a while. Maybe it’s the depression talking, but everything just tastes bland when it comes out of a buffet trough. Hot sauce would be a good way to go to fix that, if anything spicier than pico de gallo didn’t disagree with me. I still don’t know how people can willingly subject themselves to oral torture via condiments, let alone get into contests over who can eat the spiciest pepper in existence. What was it my friend said? Something about how some people are nontasters and need stronger spices to actually feel something and some people are supertasters where everything is intense. Dang, I need to look that up sometime. I wonder if the ratio of supertasters to nontasters or vice versa is linked to specific regions of the world? Would explain why some cultures enjoy spicier food while some can’t stand anything stronger than salt.

There are burritos today. A small blessing.

Write your story. Stop watching that video on your phone, pull out your notebook, and write your story. You’ll feel much better with it done, but you need to actually write the story. You’ve already watched this video ten times already, you know it by heart, why are you watching it over and over again when you have other things you’ve been meaning to get to? Put it away on the count of three. One, two, three. I said, one, two, three four five- damnit.

“We now bring to you on the Inner Brain Radio “Mambo. No 5”, but only the first measure. This will be on repeat for the next three hours.”

Excellent. Hey, can I request something different? Like, maybe some silence, or some thoughts on how I’m actually going to finish this freaking story?

“Sorry, we don’t take requests.”

That’s what I figured.

Damn, this burrito is hot. Why are all the burritos from the cafeteria burning hot? The rice is always overcooked, too. Tasteless. Feels like chewing on actual rice grains instead of, you know, cooked rice. At least it fills me up- won’t have to break my writing stride to get a snack, if it comes to that. And it always comes to that.

…Noise.

Too much noise. Mouths chewing with wet and obscene sounds. Conversations I can’t piece together but try to anyway. What if they’re talking about me?

I can’t tell whether they’re laughing or crying.

I can’t tell whether they’re laughing or crying.

I can’t tell whether they’re laughing or crying.

Need to move. No more people. I’m tired after two classes, how am I supposed to work in the real world? How am I supposed to do anything worthwhile? How am I supposed to grow and be an adult? I don’t feel like an adult. I stopped changing at sixteen and I’ve been stuck in this worthless rotten excuse of a body ever since.

Stand up. Stand up! Prickling in my muscles, everything’s too loud. Beep boop, out of people juice again. Where can I get more? People juice machine broke. Why am I thinking in memes at a time like this, I need to pack up my bag and go.

Out of the cafeteria, into the fall air. I don’t need to think about the path I’m taking. I may not be able to remember meetings, due dates, birthdays, names, anything short-term memory related, or anything that makes me viable and valid as a human adult worth caring about, but by God do I still have my muscle memory! Wondrous miracles!

What should I listen to on the walk home? Oh yeah, I’ve been meaning to listen to this album. It’d be good to listen to something new. Or, I could listen to the same set of songs I’ve been listening to on repeat for weeks now because that’s what’s comfortable to me.

Yeah. Let’s go with that.

It’s getting windier by the minute. I left my good jacket in my bedroom closet- didn’t think I’d need it today. I need to make it a habit to check the weather before I go out, I can’t keep going out under prepared like this-

What on earth is that squirrel doing?

…God damnit. Did it again. I’m just a walking stereotype at this point. I really hate that joke about people with ADHD and squirrels, but it’s true. Maybe that’s why I hate it so much.

I did take my pills today, didn’t I? The section for today is empty, so I must have. Good. I’ve gotten better about doing that.

Walk faster towards home, bow my head against the galeforce winds. It’s not galeforce, I’m exaggerating, but it’s damn windy is what it is. I’m swimming upstream, I’m a carp trying to jump a waterfall. I’m Sisyphus up a hill made out of air. I’m an adventurer on a solemn quest, I’m a badass with somewhere to be, I’m making up things that I am because the walk home is boring and I’d rather be at home under my duvet instead of be out here freezing my everything off.

Finally home. My room’s at the top of three sets of stairs. I’m the crazy lady in the attic. Stick me up here, forget about me. Or it could be that it’s smaller so they make the single rooms out of the space they have. Self reminder- finish reading “The Yellow Wallpaper”.

When I take off my shoes, I need to place them in the shoe caddy. If I do so, it will be easier to find them and they won’t be a trip hazard. Everyone wins.

I didn’t place them in the shoe caddy. Figures.

Set your bag down, pull your laptop and notebook out. This whole day will be a waste if I don’t get something down at least. Sit on your bed and make yourself comfortable. I’m not going anywhere for the next however-long-it-takes, and the desk chairs are too hard for my delicate lil’ butt to handle.

My bedsheets already smell like farts and sweat. I just washed them a few days ago. I don’t know what I’m doing wrong.

A thousand underperformances on the back of my neck, constricting my lungs. I’ve barely opened the laptop and already I’m at anxiety DEFCON 2, how am I supposed to start this thing? It’s impossible, why did I put it off for this long, I’m going to fail, I’m-

Wait! Breathe. Breathe in for five, hold for five, exhale for seven. That’s it, just like your psychologist taught you. Still stressed. Thoughts still racing. Howie Mandel, I’m going to use a lifeline on this one. Pick up my phone, flip over to texts.

[Mom are you in a good place to talk right now?] [well, text] [not up for calling atm]

[I am. What’s up?]

[just. kind of stressed out] [I have a story due by midnight and I haven’t started  it yet] [trying not to beat myself up about it. not really working]

[At least you’re trying, right? That’s better than in the past.] [Maybe try doing something nice for a bit?] [Not forever, just something that will calm you down.]

[did I mention its due tonight at midnight]

[I know. But trying to do things when you’re riled up doesn’t work.]

I hate it when she’s right.

[maybe I’ll do some knitting for a bit] [still have to finish that blanket]

[Sounds like a plan <3]

One, two, three four… seven? Fuck, I dropped a stitch somewhere. Time to frog it and start over. Mom’s always astonished when I spend so much time on something and destroy it when it’s not perfect. Like I didn’t inherit it from her. She’s gotten better in recent days, but still. Still. Why do knitters call it “frogging”? Because you rip it, rip it.

…It’s nine o clock at night. When did it become nine o clock at night? Put your knitting away, goddamnit, what are you thinking? The story’s due before midnight, just open your Word doc and go!

Focus. Play with form. Poetry, writing, dance, art, living- it’s all just one connection of motion to another. But at what point does a story become a poem? Or a poem become a story, either or. I know free verse is a thing, will the teacher dock me points if it’s not within at least a certain limit of change? Maybe. I don’t know.

The word counter’s ticking up, one agonizing number at a time. It’s all bullshit, of course it’s all bullshit, I can’t write anything but bullshit. But in the Game of College Classes, all that matters is that it fulfills the requirements of the assignment. Nothing more.

Something something too rhythmic, something something “all writers are failed poets”, something something I don’t know what I’m doing, something something, just as long as it’s something.

You’ll never be good enough. This story will never be good enough. You’re unoriginal. And even if you were original, who would want someone who can’t turn things in on time? That’s all you’re good for, menial tasks, just get used up and thrown out when you’re no longer needed. You’re disposable. There are millions of other people just like you, only better because they aren’t lazy worthless garbage. No one likes you. People who say they like you and like what you do are lying. Why can’t you just write what’s in your head? You think you’re better than everyone else at this, but when it comes to brass tacks you just can’t live up to your own fantasies of greatness. Face it- you’re never going to get anywhere with this. You’re never going to get anywhere with anything you do. You’ll just give up as soon as things become even slightly tough; what were you thinking coming here, where it’s all tough all the time? Oh wait, you weren’t, you just go along with whatever someone in authority tells you because you’re a coward and can’t think for yourself without someone else giving the go-ahead. If you’re ever given control you just throw it all away and don’t do shit-

11:50pm. It’s done. Aborted thoughts that pro-lifers would have a field day with, flimsy thoughts, very little structure, absolutely meaningless in the long run, but done, blessedly done. Open your email, send it off to the professor. Write an apology for it being late at night. Send a joke that at least it’s on time. Delete the part that says “for once”- only so much self-deprecation is allowed when interacting with others before they get concerned. Hit the SEND button and try to feel proud, though you know you could have done better if you hadn’t put it off.

It’s late. I’m tired. Time to attempt to sleep. I’ll stay up until one watching videos- I know myself- but at least I need to pretend I’m going to bed or I’ll stay up even later with meaningless distractions

I’ll have to face my mistakes I’ve made with other classes tomorrow, the assignments I’ve put off elsewhere. But this is a victory. A victory that shouldn’t be this hard to get, but it’s a victory. And I’ll take it for all it’s worth.

[thecosmiccuttlefish]

‘Till the 20th!

August 13th 2017 12:52pm

    What a day. Oh man, what a major day. I went for a swim, I went for a walk with Azadeh where I saw some cliff divers and managed to meditate some of the anxiety away, I went for a fun slip and slide event with my siblings, and I went to a rap battle in a sketchy part of town a solid 75min or so of car/transit away.

I think it’s cause for a little celebration. It wasn’t perfect. At all; but I’ve made some break throughs.

It’s no use pushing intrusive thoughts away, or pretending they don’t exist, or you don’t need them. The best thing to do is just allow them to be there and leave the gate open for them to leave if they wish. Give them space. When I can manage my anxious/obsessive/impulsive thoughts I’m better at things generally. I procrastinate less on the internet. My inter-personal communication is better. I feel stronger, braver, and more creative. (I think me giving into impulses generally feeds into the strength of me needing to click on videos or google random thoughts and feelings.) I’m restricting less and calling myself out on bullshit more.

Tomorrow I’m leaving for an eating disorder camp. Well, that sentence is a little misleading. It’s not a camp that roasts kale around the camp fire and has HIIT paddling workouts on the canoes believe it or not. It’s a camp for people that have had eating disorders. So, it’ll probably be a camp for people that have suffered with anxiety, depression, add, adhd, obsessions, compulsions, impulses, low-self esteem, perfectionism, self criticism, and mental battles which have no name, classification, or text book written about them yet. There’s no internet or technology there (Yay!) So I won’t be writing here for a while (Boo.) Usually, when I do fun experiences like this so much happens it helps if I make a list of predictions I can check off after the fact which saves me the headache of having to recall every meaningful experience and nuance over seven days. Or at least lessens the obsessive blow.

So here goes:

Margo’s prediction for the ED Camp.

I will do some sort of backflip off of a dock. Obsessively or genuinely.

I will write something original and perform it.

I will write something funny. It may make people laugh.

I form hecka close friendships.

I make more than 3 good friends.

There are mean girls.

This camp is where all the arch-typical eating disorder girls have been hiding out through my entire treatment process. (Blonde, superficial, gossipy, dramatic, unlikely.)

I tell a spooky story.

I make up a spooky story.

I cry. For emotional or physical reasons.

There are some people that are not super recovery oriented.

There is surprisingly little talk of eating disorders.

It’s a little cringy in a it treats us like little kids sort of way.

I’m one of the oldest there.

It’s mostly white people.

It’s kind of a life changing experience, not going to lie.

It seems like a low budget operation.

I love my cabin mates.

The cabins are divided by age.

The showers are surprisingly nice.

The food is significantly better than hospital food, not as good as regular camp food.

The portions are good. Maybe a little on the big side?

There’s a few emotional breakdowns.

There’s an “emergency.”

I don’t feel very lonely.

Some shenanigans go down in the night time.

I develop a gay crush on a leader. Or camper.

It’s very beautiful.

It’s a little too close to civilization.

It inspires me to become a camp counselor.

The lake is small. It’s a small lake.

The sugary, possibly triggering food is kept to a minimum.

Stories about eating disorders are told, but not formally.

Lots of girls already know each other.

I am one of the more outgoing ones at the beginning.

It’s a little too structured.

Makes me wish I went to the treatment facility this is being run by instead of the other one.

The camp leaders are surprisingly funny.

It rains.

There are a surprising, or not so surprising amount of adrenaline junkies.

We vote on a  movie in movie night.

There is a small cohort of campers.

Camp rules are laid down first thing, like food, body talk ect.

There is singing.

You can see the stars.

We have worksheets we fill out.

The campers are chiller than the staff.

The “Mystery Activity” is maybe improvised?

It’s better than that one camping experience I had like, 6 years ago. That was two whole weeks longer.

It brings back memories for some strange reason.

It makes me glad to be moving away from my family eventually and crave independence.

I feel inherently optimistic when I leave.

You can hear wild life at night.

I have a surprisingly few amount of dares (impulses/perseverations)

I FORGOT SOMETHING.

I have a good story, one that I thought I might not get.

It makes me grateful.

So there you have it, 57 predictions. Till the 20th my friends. 再见

11:18am edit.

Bonus predictions

58. There will be a diverse range of body types, from the maybe unhealthy skinny to the maybe unhealthy fat.

59. Some people have trouble eating food.

60. The campers become divided by age.

61. Some people make physical activities such as rock climbing/canoeing questionably vigorous.

62. I have a great time.

Notes from me when I get back. (Hi future me!):

[lordofvos-blog]

Seekers and ADHD

A Mental Health Meta

Before I start the meta proper, I’d like to say that the thoughts and opinions stated in this post are formulated mainly off of popular fanon stereotypes and interpretations of Seeker behavior, as well as my own headcanon and the headcanons of my friends. These fanon interpretations and headcanons are all based on canon sources, but evolved further into being their own thing. Though written in a more informative, essay-like format, they are not meant to be viewed as canon and should not be taken as absolute, irrefutable fact, just the thoughts of a man with ADHD, an interest in Seekers and Transformers, and too much time on his hands.

As well as this, despite having ADHD, I am not an expert on it and do not ask you to view me that way. If you have questions or concerns regarding ADHD please consult professional medical sources, not me.

If you have questions concerning the meta itself, however, please feel free to hit me up with them.

Seekers, as a specialized frame class, are Cybertron’s air strength; they hold more firepower than couriers, more speed and maneuverability than shuttles and spacefaring vessels, and hold air superiority over similar, ground-bound frames. Being specialized as they are, their processors are wired, on the whole, for different things than other frametypes: the intricacies of flying, maintaining spacial awareness and awareness of their opponent or opponents during dogfights, as well as the signature “seeking” they are named after. The result of this is that, on the ground and out of their “zone”, Seekers very commonly display behavioral patterns associated with humans living with Attention Deficit Hyperactivity Disorder.

Lack of Focus = Overstimulation

The intricacies of flying require very delicate and very precise spatial awareness algorithms and sensory equipment. Seekers have to know where they are, where their bodies and wings extend, how close they are to other Seekers, how high up they are, air pressure, projected flight traffic, outside and inside temperature, fuel levels and pressure, and many other things to fly safely and smoothly, all while tracking targets and relegating tasks. Those tasks may be something as simple as “make it to your destination on time”, or as complex as a choreographed or freestyle aerial routine.

The upside is that the sky is near void-like compared to the distractions of the ground. On the ground there are other mechs, there’s entertainment and music, there’s the hustle and bustle of large Cybertronian cities or the constant noise of an army’s base of operations that mechs with other functions might be able to tune into the background with little to no hassle. For Seekers, this level of constant sound, smell, and sight triggers can be a huge source of frustration. Their sensory equipment pings at every little thing, making it incredibly difficult for them to focus.

Because of this, among ground-frames Seekers have gained a reputation of absent-mindedness, forgetfulness, and a lack of genuine focus. Small things they might ignore, like the buzz of a roadway or the simple ticking of a clock, can keep Seekers distracted and “out of it” during day-to-day conversation. They might not recall things if their processor deemed them “irrelevant”, or they may forget to do everyday tasks other mechs have no issue keeping up with. Many require very rigid self-scheduling to maintain the sort of balanced life non-Seekers enjoy, and most relish routine and repetition.

Seeking vs. Hyperfocus and Hyperfixations

The flip side of overstimulation due to constant sensory input is understimulation, which can be just as stressful and detrimental to their mental health. Seekers can get very bored if not given enough stimulus or a task to focus on, and oddly enough, can often become understimulated because of the effects overstimulation has on them. Somewhat aleving for this is, though they may lack focus in some areas, they have an overabundance in others. Differentiating Seekers the most from other flight frames is the “seeking” behavior they’re named for. Seeking behavior is, in short, a specialized form of coding that helps Seekers pursue a target in the air without losing it to various obstacles or distractions. Seekers will pursue the target they’ve been assigned until the task associated with it is complete, nearly without fail, and because of this are near-unparalleled as fighters and as air recon.

Seeking behavior is another thing that carries over into ground life, though once they’ve left the air, they often call this sort of laser-guided attention “hyperfocus”. A Seeker in hyperfocus may as well be dead to the world aside from the thing they’ve chosen to focus on, whether it be something productive like finishing a stack of desk work, or something not so much, like binging the entirety of their ship’s media library in a single week. Breaking a Seeker out of this might result in them reacting in anger and/or lashing out; it’s hard for them to focus on a normal day, so making them lose what concentration they can manage to muster can be genuinely upsetting and frustrating, even if it’s for something important.

A downside to hyperfocus is that it normally only clicks on with activities and subjects that the Seeker finds interesting and engaging -- deadlines or consequences don’t usually effect it, only interest. One such type of interest is dubbed a “hyperfixation”. These are, in the simplest terms possible, intense hobbies or interests that Seekers may latch on to as coping mechanisms or just because they find them fun. They can include literally anything a mech might find interest in, like fashion, or movies, or very commonly among Seekers, flight itself. Some Seekers might find very little engaging outside of their hyperfixations. Many describe this as Seekers either being obsessed or deeply apathetic in regards to any given thing, with very little in between.

Behavioral and Emotional Side-Effects

Because of the way their processors behave and everything described above, Seekers often show symptoms and side-effects that other mechs do not, or at least do not show in the same ways. Very common behavioral and emotional side-effects include:

Fidgeting or “Stimming” -- This can be a result of both over- and understimulation. A Seeker might fidget in different ways, like bouncing their legs, twitching their wings, or moving their talons. This helps keep them grounded and in the moment while also keeping them occupied. They might also engage in vocal stimming, such as constant or persistent repetition of words or actions. There are many other types of stim activity on top of the ones listed here.

Aggression and irritability -- As stated before, Seekers might react in anger if their concentration is broken, or if they feel much too overstimulated for their own good. On a bad day, Seekers might be far more irritable and sour than other mechs, and they’ve gained a bit of a reputation for snapping for seemingly “no reason”.

Excitability and hyperactivity -- A common symptom of understimulation in Seekers is hyperactivity. A Seeker may act bouncy or over-energetic in cases like this, moving from task to task without stopping.

Impulsivity and lack of self-restraint -- When it’s hard to clear the fuzz from your processor, sometimes you do things without fully thinking them through. This is especially true when Seekers feel overstimulated and overwhelmed.

“Flight calling” or becoming “sky mad” -- Commonly attributed to Seekers’ alt modes, the “inherent need” for Seekers to fly can actually be chalked up to a simple need for relative silence. The sky is a good place for Seekers to rid themselves of constant sensory overload, and so a good way to clear their processors of all the static. Nearly every time Seekers forged as adults come online for the first time, they take flight instinctively and immediately to get away from the noise they wake up to. 

Claustrophobia -- Claustrophobia in Seekers is very often caused by sensory overload, not so much “sky madness” like most (including some Seekers) may think; in enclosed spaces, especially enclosed spaces filled with other mechs, noises are louder, olfactory input is heightened, and mechs feel closer than they may actually be. Most Seekers can still handle enclosed spaces, however, provided they have a clear exit route and there aren’t too many others in the same space at the same time.

[breathebravegirl]

Update for A

General update/recap of the last 3-4 weeks/the 1700-ish word long update I sent to A. 

Read more because long as fuck

@p-for-penguins​--here ya go! 

Alright welcome home, sending this because otherwise it’s going to take approx. 8 hours to catch you up so here is a recap of my shit-show of a life, organized by category (and hashtag because obvi) and written in point form for your convenience:

Work: 

SO MUCH work drama happening (more context to come, but I’m not typing out the whole situation that is sinking ship Dalhousie)

I want to scream and so many unknowns and so overwhelmed 

Feeling so disregarded and unimportant and so worthless and feel like I’m being punished for being hella fucked up and I kind of just want to completely disappear

I'm kind of like, let them do what they're going to do, whatever. It's like, they clearly don't care about my wellbeing or me so why should I? It's not up to me and I'm delusional if I think I have any agency in that place. 

Was filling my dad in on the work situation and literally almost burst into tears on like 4 different occasions which, I don’t know if you know me or not but that doesn’t fucking happen. But this whole work thing is fucking killing me and I’m so done. And I don’t fucking have time to be thinking/worrying about this which is making everything so much worse. 

The work thing is taking up too much time and stress and space and it very much feels like the wanting to do not good stupid things (as opposed to the good stupid things…? or maybe just the less awful stupid things?) has increased significantly with the work thing 

That’s probably not great and it’s probably less great that I’m super apathetic to that fact and just don’t really care and have so few reserves and am so burnt out and am getting super close to the end of this rope

Emailed boss last Saturday asking if we could chat that Monday and he never responded which is whatever, and then didn’t say anything about it on Tuesday (or Wednesday or Thursday), let alone acknowledge my existence and that’s fine like I don’t want to deal with me either, nor am i worth wasting time on so it’s fine

I'm done with the work thing. I mean, and all of it, but I'm done fighting for myself as if I matter and I'm done pretending that I think I do because we all know I don't so whatever. They're going to do whatever they want and I really don't care what the outcome is anymore. It doesn't matter

ED:

Purging is literally not even a semi-effective ~skill~ anymore and yet apparently brings everything down except I don't think it actually does which makes little to no sense

I am too big and too much and it needs to go down and weight needs to go down and it ! cannot ! stay ! here ! and it’s completely unacceptable for it to be here (and 😊this😊used😊to😊be😊a😊goal😊low😊weight😊and😊now😊it’s😊TOO😊HIGH😊)

Purging needs to be done. Or it needs to just fucking kill me already.

I cannot express how much I need to get the fuck out of my body

It’s getting to a point where the later in the day/night it gets, the more terrified I get of having it end in purging and it’s like, I know I just need to not do it but i don’t know what my problem is and it seems like it’s not that simple and i know that rising panic and anxiety re: going to bed doesn’t help but… 

I cannot continue to exist in this disaster of a body and NEED to get out and it needs to go down and get smaller and be not so big and awful and horrendous and i need to get out of this fucking body

#CopingWithShitty(ButHellaEffective)Skills:

(Is it possible to hate yourself so much that you give up on self-destructing in the traditional way…? Like, not doing the cutting or making it to 5km because that would be doing something that feels good/feels deserved so I'm not because it’s more torturous not to, which is probably so fucked but…)

#ActuallyCoping:

I made the not so stupid decision to come home and do food and low and behold, Maddy stops losing her shit quite as much after food happens because apparently you can’t survive on coffee and a fear of failure WHO KNEW

Also was wanting to do all of the stupid things and so did something that I never do and texted Alysia and asked if i could go over (ugh i hate myself, inviting oneself over is never okay) and went and hung out with her and talked for literally hours and didn’t do stupid things

#MaddyBeingNeedyAsFuck:

I literally am the most pathetic but all i want is a legit hug and to feel like someone gives half a fuck about me and logistically, I know that people do but knowing that rationally and feeling via actions that it is true at all are two very different things and I should know that people care and I do but… I don’t know, clearly I have inflated expectations of other people and am selfish and am undeserving of anything anyways so it’s fine)

I kind of want to just stop bothering with everyone and stop bothering everyone and stop being annoying and whiny and complaining constantly and stop reaching out/texting/emailing and that’s not uncommon for me to want but it’s normally just a passive desire but like, I actually might, and I’m just a complete disaster and would really like to disappear like, yesterday and I don't want to do the things and everything hurts too much.

Dr. K:

Didn't end up seeing Dr. K. I guess because I had said I didn't want to touch adhd meds until after exams, he was like well then maybe we should just wait till then and I asked if we could meet today and just make a plan for afterwards and he said we should just meet after which is fine but like also kind of wanted to talk about the fact that I can't and don't sleep but whatever

The other thing is like, I know that if he were to give me anything for sleep, I would PANIC because that’s what I do with new meds. So.. It’s like a fine line. I don’t know. And part of me is like, maybe I’m just not trying hard enough or not putting in enough effort to sleeping. I don’t know. Also having meds like that is scary.

The-general-awfulness-that-is-my-life:

no !! one !! fucking !! understands !! and !! so !! alone !!

Can I put discrediting myself and minimizing all my experiences on my resume because fuck I’m good at it… 

Such high distress levels and such constantly high distress levels and so exhausted (what else is new…)

I know I’m thinking myself in circles and all that but there are so many things going on that like, if I stop the spinning in one area, we jump straight to another one and there’s no calm or quiet and everything is loud 

Trying to be gentle but want nothing to do with being gentle and simultaneously am too exhausted to do anything super bad (I say now, until it's 3am and I'm still awake and purging). I don't know. I just really don't want to do this anymore and want a break and I don't know how long I'm expected to hang in not being able to breathe because it's been so long and I'm exhausted and I don't want to do it anymore. 

Everything is so loud and feels so irreparably broken

Have I mentioned that i hate my life and am so fucking exhausted?

The Thing™:

Things with The Thing were like, fine and pretty non-existent and then…

I went to the class I had skipped one week because the prof said we were done with the not okay topic but things were said and similar things were said in class that morning and i left but shouldn't have and I need to do well in this class and I already bombed the midterm and like I shouldn't have left and was literally about to burst into tears or throw up but it's like, what if I was just being dramatic and trying to get out of going to class 

I don’t know if I’ve ever had such a physiological reaction to a ~trauma trigger. (lol fuck i feel like such a fake calling it trauma when no one fucking knows if it happened). Like, eyes welled up with tears so. many. times throughout that class and immediately felt like I was going to throw up and was on the verge of panic for probably the next 6 fucking hours and I’m exhausted and scared and want to disappear 

The other day something not super cool happened except literally nothing happened but everything felt wrong and suddenly uber unsafe—in the unsafe-in-my-existence-I-am-not-safe-being-on-the-planet way, definitely not the I'm-going-do-do-something-bad way—and scared and flashbacky and unsafe and I couldn't even tell you what fucking happened or changed but something must have and super not cool

Feels:

Everything has been feeling entirely numb and we're back to everything feeling overwhelmingly heavy. Like moving is unfathomable and breathing feels like too much of a chore and is taking any existing energy.

It's like, this is brutal but so is everything else so it doesn't really matter

It’s not like this all the time but I think what scares me is the numb combined with the apathy

Good Things:

There has been minimal self-harming (maybe twice? maybe once)

There have been NO stitches 

There have been 3 and 4 day long periods without purging

9 days until undergrad is done

I found a place to live

Cats

TL;DR:

Things are either literally fine or completely Not Okay™ (black/white thinking because what even is grey)

Reserves are so so low and so burnt out

Everything is so loud 

And feels so irreparably broken

And so alone

Have I mentioned that I need to get out of this body?

It feels like I'm going to be trapped in this forever 

I’m exhausted and scared and want to disappear