#but it is. like. on a deadline. so naturally i've been procrastinating a lot)

[fruitsyrups]

ok so like tbh im bored of doing the whole "drawing an AT character every day of december" thing which i doubt anyone was, like, particularly invested in, except me bc i wanted to prove something to myself i guess? anyway. i've proved enoughhh

sooo yeah. i'll probably just go back to posting art irregularly lol

[minisugakoobies]

It's You - Choi San | 3 AM

Pairing: San x Reader Genre: smut, crack, fluff, angst, roommates to lovers, BFF’s Lil Bro!AU Series Rating: M (18+) Drabble Warnings: sneaking around, sloppy making out, lots of cuddling and kissing, honestly this is super soft, drunk San is a whole different type of menace, a little angst on OC's part, pet names deployed as weapons (baby) Word Count: 2.1k Disclaimers: SFW, obviously I don’t own ATZ - they just inspire me

Summary: He was only supposed to be a temporary roommate. Your best friend’s little brother, crashing on your couch for a few weeks. That’s it. How did this happen?

A/N: This started with talking about drunk San with @minttangerines and @kiestrokes, and then @moni-logues made me miss this couple, so boom! New vignette! I should warn you that I wrote this over the course of 2 days, entirely between the hours of midnight and 5 am because I've been staying up wayyyy too late to watch the Coachella livestreams (can we talk about Chellateez?! because holy shit!), so it's probably a mess and it's unbeta'd, so… blame any typos or incoherency on my fucked up sleep schedule! 🥱

Lyrics are from "Moondance" by Van Morrison, inspired by that one toktoq of San singing that song, which absolutely killed me.

Taglist is open! Reblog, comment, or send me an ask to be added! You can also send me any ideas/thoughts you might have for a future scenario - who knows, it might end up in a drabble! 💕

It’s You Masterlist 🐈‍⬛ ATZ Masterlist 🐈‍⬛ Main Masterlist

It’s three in the morning, and you’re wide awake, at your desk, working frantically on an article whose deadline is mere hours away. For not the first time tonight, you curse your natural inclination towards procrastination and scrub your hand down your face, wishing you’d chosen a different career. 

There’s some noise outside your door and you realize San must be home. He’d been down at the Blue Bird with Hongjoong, drinking and hanging out with Wooyoung as he bartended. From the way San’s shuffling around, it sounds like Woo had been his typical kind self and given San more generous pours than he should have. A loud “oof” resonates, and you hear the armchair scrape the floor a bit, as if he were setting it back in its place. You wince, hoping he didn’t wake his sister, who has an early shift and needs to be up at dawn.

“Noona. Nooooooona.” Tap tap tappity tap. “Are you up? I can see - I can see your light.” 

San raps on your door, calling out to you in a voice that’s hushed but maybe not quite as quiet as he thinks it is. From his spot on your bed, Nero lifts his head off his paws at the sound, then blinks at you with his bright green eyes. 

“I know. He’s loud as fuck, isn’t he?” With a cluck of your tongue, you quickly hop up and open the door. San must’ve been leaning against it, because suddenly you’ve got a mountain on top of you, a loose-limbed one at that, eagerly but clumsily wrapping its arms around you. “San!” 

“Hiiiii,” San coos into your shoulder, where he’s buried his face. You shudder slightly as his breath tickles your skin exposed by the tank top you wear, and stagger away from the door enough to close it quietly as you can, not an easy task to do given the giant mass of man hanging his dead weight on you. 

“You know, your sister is sleeping just on the other side of this wall,” you remind him, but he doesn’t respond, too busy lathering the column of your neck with tiny kisses. “San. Come on, sit down.” 

With some stumbling from San and a not insignificant effort on your part, the two of you make it over to your bed. Your attempt at coaxing San into a sitting position fails miserably as he promptly splays on his back, pulling you on top of him. Nero hops off the bed in a huff. 

You go down like a sack of flour, not a gram of gracefulness in your fall, but San appears not to notice when your chin bounces off his sternum or your knee rams his thigh. He sighs contentedly, wrapping his arms around your back, tucking you against him.

“Mmmm. So nice,” he murmurs, resting his cheek against the top of your head. 

It’s three in the morning, and you need to finish this damn article. Except that right now, your body is telling you that what you really need is to stay exactly where you are. Because the minute the warmth of San’s embrace surrounded you, your stress melted away. The steady rise and fall of his chest calms you, makes your own breathing slow. You close your eyes, nestling closer to him, sliding your own arms around his waist. You could so easily fall asleep like this. 

But he can’t sleep here. 

“San. San, are you awake?” 

“I’m awake,” he replies, but with closed eyes, which doesn’t really give you a lot of confidence in his response. “I am,” he insists when you shake him, rolling his head away, but he still doesn’t look at you.

“Don’t fall asleep,” you warn him sternly. “I mean it!” 

San smiles, the one that tells you that he knows you’re going to give in to him, which is the smile you tend to see him flash the most often, because you’re weak for him and always giving in. But this isn’t one of those times when you can indulge him. No matter how much you want to. 

“Wish you’d come to the bar tonight. Wanted you there.” 

You knew that. He’d told you as much when he’d texted earlier. Unfortunately, you had to turn him down for the sake of remaining gainfully employed. He’d tried to convince you otherwise at first but finally said he understood. And then sent you a series of sad selfies, each one more pathetic than the last, lips puffing to an extreme. Because he understands the power that pout holds over you.

It’s embarrassing how bad you’re down for this man.

San’s fingers dance idly down your spine, and you sigh, eyes slipping shut again as you speak. “Believe me, I would’ve rather been there with you.” 

He hums, fingertips quickening their light minuet. He mumbles something into your hair, low and unintelligible from the way his lips are smushed against your head, so it takes you a few seconds to realize he’s not talking, he’s singing. 

“... marvelous night for a moondance, with the stars up above in your eyes…” 

“San,” you begin, but before you can warn him not to get any louder, he does so anyway, raising his beautiful voice a little, starting to get into it. 

“A fantabulous night to make romance, 'neath the cover of October skies…”

“Shhh!” Your shushing is cut short by your giggling, as you clap a hand over San’s mouth. “Oh my god, now is not the time for this!” 

This is one of San’s more notable habits - when a song gets stuck in his head, you’ll hear him singing it for days, just walking around the apartment humming the melody or, if he has an audience, belting out the lines. He knows how much you love his sweet tenor. Another fact about you he’s filed away to devastate you with at the most opportune times.

Like when you need to kick him out of your bed. 

He continues singing despite your hand pressing on his lips, slurring the words directly into your palm. His eyebrows are working overtime, top half of his face playfully conveying whatever lyrics are being smothered against your skin. He’s so ridiculous, so over-the-top, even at three in the morning when anyone else would be exhausted, like you felt before he walked into your room, since his energy is infectious and perked you up better than the multiple cups of coffee you downed in your desperate attempt to stay awake. That’s San for you - he’s always giving you something when you need it - his time, his help, his energy. 

So you decide to give him something back, and replace your hand with your mouth, drawing him into a tender kiss, imbuing it with all those things you feel but never say. His muffled singing becomes a hum becomes a moan, at first surprised, then pleased. One of his hands drops to your thigh and with a bit of urgent tugging, he maneuvers you on top of him, chest pressed to chest.

His kissing is only the slightest bit sloppier when he’s been drinking, wetter from his tongue caressing yours with somewhat less skill than usual, but it’s never bothered you. You like seeing this side of him, looser with his inhibitions, with whatever holds him in place - or holds him back. One day you’ll ask him to show you more, when you’re both sober. 

And when things are different. Less… ambiguous between the two of you. 

If you reach that point. 

“Noona.” San whispers, thankfully pulling you from the heavier thoughts threatening to sink you right out of the moment. You open your eyes to look at him as he pecks your cheeks.  “I like kissing you.” 

You grin, letting your forehead knock against his. “Yeah, I kinda noticed.” 

“Aren’t you going to say it back?” The look he gives you would melt the hardest of hearts. This is why you’re not afraid to be needy with San. There’s no reason to be, not when he’s just the same. 

“I like kissing you too,” you declare, kissing the tip of his nose, laughing at the way his eyes cross as he follows your lips. “But now’s not the time for that, either.” 

“Then what time is it?”

Laughing, you gently guide him into a sitting position, keeping your arms looped over his shoulders. His lust is morphing into sleepiness, eyelids drooping as he gazes at you, and your heart goes so soft at the sight of him. 

“It’s time for you to go to bed.” 

“Okay,” he chirps, immediately flopping onto his back again. 

“Ohhhh no, not here. You gotta go. I still have to finish my work, and you…” The words stick in your throat. You can’t be here. You don’t want to say them. You want him to be here. Tonight, and tomorrow, and on and on. 

But that’s a conversation for another time. Not three in the morning.

“You have to go,” you groan, sliding off the bed and grabbing his arms, less gentle and more insistent this time. “Come on, get up!” 

San lets out a whine of protest. “But baby, why can’t I stay here?” 

Oh, he would drop a ‘baby’ now, slipping it in so casually, so naturally, like there’s nothing unusual about him calling you that. As if it’s not something new he only started doing the other day, happening maybe a handful of times since. 

Since the two of you have been doing this undefined thing, there’s really only been one unspoken rule. You sleep in your bed, and he sleeps on the couch. Even on the nights when Haneul’s working the late shift, or she’s over at Jongho’s. You never know if she’ll come home early, so you don’t risk it. It’s just easier this way.

Doesn’t mean you like it, though. 

“Because. If Haneul catches you coming out of here - “

The sound of a door opening makes you freeze right down to your tongue, leaving your sentence unfinished. Your head swivels towards your own door. A pair of feet pad down the hall, getting closer, then fading away, until you hear another door being closed. The bathroom. 

“Noona.” 

You turn to find a sober-looking San staring at you. He reaches out, hands settling on your hips, holding on to you as you stand between his legs. Clinging again. 

“She’s in early today, right?” 

The two of you probably know Haneul’s schedule better than she does. You nod.

“Then I’ll just stay in here. She’ll think I never came home.” 

He makes it sound so simple. So reasonable. He’ll stay here until she leaves. Why didn’t you think of that? Is it because you don’t like thinking of San with someone else, even if said person is an imaginary person who exists solely to provide an excuse that will allow you to get what you want? And if you get what you want now, it’s only going to hurt more when you can’t have it anymore?

Yeah, that’s probably it. 

“I don’t know…” you bite your lip.

“Come on,” he wheedles, drawing you into his lap again, cupping your face with both hands. “Let me stay with you. Don’t you want me?” 

And there it goes, the last remaining bit of your resistance. 

“Okay.”

San seems a little shocked, face lighting up in delight, and you wonder if it’s at how quickly you agreed, or that you agreed at all. Maybe both.

“But we have to be quiet. So, you know…” You trail off, gesturing wordlessly. 

“No moondancing?” He emphasizes the word heavily, lifting a brow, and you roll your eyes but grin as well.

“Right, none of that.”

“Just cuddles?” 

As if he needs to ask. You nod. “But I’m not coming to bed until I finish my work.” You reclaim your seat at your desk, folding your arms over the back of it, trying to give the appearance of someone with a solid backbone, since yours is apparently made of pudding. 

“That’s okay,” San says, already tugging his shirt off, then his pants, until he’s only in his boxer briefs. He peels back your comforter, sliding into the soft sheets, and again the action is so natural, so normal, like he does this every night, that something in your chest constricts. “I’ll just wait for you.” 

Your first thought is that you should inform him that he’s going to be waiting a while, but then again, maybe he won’t. 

You’re feeling suddenly inspired. 

(It’s three in the morning, and you’re falling in love.)

If you liked this fic, please consider reblogging! Likes do not help it get seen by other readers. 💕

Taglist: @sweetnspicy-noona @krystal-a @jennylychee @hiefisch

© 2023-24 by minisugakoobies. Crossposted to AO3. Please do not copy or repost. I do not allow translations of my work.

[tordenvejr]

Hello Vic, I hope you’re doing well.

I failed one of the subjects this semester. I have near perfect scores in all other. I generally struggle a lot with depression and motivation. So especially bcs of this, and because Ive always procrastinated, I left everything for the last few days and I just couldn’t keep up with this subject’s material.

How do I not let this affect me? Mind you, I started this semester with motivation, which was a rare thing in my life, I am afraid I won’t be like that anymore & while realizing that I was failing I was thinking about all the work I did during the semester, even getting dressed up and leaving home, commuting to university took insane amount of energy from me… and it seems like I did all of that for nothing (I was hoping for a stipend, if you have average score of 95+ you have a chance to get it)

Now, this isn’t the first time Ive failed. But last time I sort of decided mid semester that at that time there was no way I was going the pass this one particular subject, so i was ok with that. But I wanted to do better this semester. My family was rooting for me during this exam season and now i feel like im not a god student. How do I break this info to them… How do I let this not effect my confidence?

you let it affect you, and you recognize that it's okay that it affects you. we're conditioned to wrap up our value > our deserving for love/belonging in how much we can achieve/produce/conform to the systems set in place that were never meant to be accessible or beneficial to everyone in the first place. it's okay to feel pressured, and to feel bad about not meeting that pressure in the way you're told to. allow whatever feelings come up to have space, whether it be sadness, shame or exhaustion , etc. those feelings are natural.

examine whether there may also be an abstract sense of rejection from your studies/place of study in terms of not passing, that might trigger an urge to give up, leave, isolate?

i would return to your why of the matter, why do you want to study > pass > what do you want to do? and making sure that that why is grounded in something that is nourishing for your well-being. does the why inspire joy? not just in concept, but in practicality?

if it is something you wholeheartedly want, you can consider implementing the pomodoro method as that can be helpful with procrastination and time management for those of us that are neurodivergent. you get the sense of a deadline so you can get things done and you know how long you'll be focusing which makes it more manageable and less overwhelming.

what does it mean to be a good student to you? because i think for many it means disregarding personal needs and ignoring factors that may be challenging us. compassion is reserved for those that reach the finish line only, being a good student becomes this thing of acceptance and respect being available exclusively when we conform as well or better than possible. which often means enduring methods of achieving that are damaging to us. results become more important than the individual.

i don't know your family dynamic so it's hard for me to know exactly how it would be least stressful for you to let them know. you may want to do it over text so you're spared their initial reaction of their own projected worries and insecurities. or you may want to let them know "i have to talk to you about something difficult, and i'm asking you to show up with understanding because i need that." and have the talk over tea, or you can lead with being your own advocate ie "i've worked hard, i've been committed, but i didn't pass this thing and i'm struggling with that. could you help motivate me or help me be nice to myself about it?" it all depends on the dynamics.

i wish you much self compassion 💛

[unmotivatedwrit3r]

In the Neighborhood

Jason Todd x reader

(A/N): This is for @redhoodssweetheart 's 1.7k writing challenge. I don't usually enter challenges because I inevitably procrastinate and hate what I've written and the trend continues here so I hope its alright.

I have just started a new semester of college and am also in the midst of writers block so new things and requests will be slow going; I apologize in advance.

There will likely be a part two but this half is over 1k words and I just wanted to post it by the deadline because it was written earlier and I like much of it, so please enjoy!

warnings: none

wordcount: 1.3K

~

1.

You didn’t even see your new neighbor move in. In your defense, you’d been out of the house a lot with all of your end-of-semester projects and classes and finals. You just knew one day that there was a new name on the mailbox next to yours (a Jason Peters), that he had the corner apartment, and that you never saw him. Oh, and that he liked books.

You’d gotten his package in your mailbox once; it was from Barnes & Noble. Well, you decided when you saw it, at least he really did exist.

You didn’t actually meet him, though, until four months after he moved in. It was at possibly the weirdest time, and one you couldn’t have possibly predicted.

It was about 2:30 in the morning, and you’d just gotten back from helping a friend with an emergency project. She dropped you off at your apartment to avoid any and all people on the streets after dark, and you were ready to shower and collapse into bed and sleep the day away. When you got to your door, there was a large man standing at the one beside you, one arm pressed to his stomach, and the other simultaneously holding a grocery bag and attempting to open the door with a set of keys.

Interacting with neighbors wasn’t your favorite pastime, but if he was who you thought he was, you might as well just help him open his door and make a good impression at the same time.

“Hi, are you Jason?”

The man looked up at you and you forgot to breathe for just a second. He was tall and he was beautiful. His eyes were a bright green that seemed to shine in the dim hallway and his black hair was broken up by a streak of white in his bangs. Later, you’d wonder if it was natural or if he dyed it, but at that moment, you were caught up in trying to maintain an air of nonchalance.

The man nodded, his attention turning back to his door.

“I’m Y/n. I live here so we’re obviously neighbors and-” you cut yourself off, watching Jason get more visibly frustrated as he nearly dropped the bag he was carrying. “Do you want me to unlock the door for you?” You paused. “Not that I’m trying to take your keys or anything, Obviously I have my own apartment here, but you look like you could use some help so…”

Your neighbor sighed, then nodded. “Yeah, sure.” He turned towards you and you took the key from his hand. “Thanks.”

With your two hands, the door opened easily and you stepped back, handing him back the keys. “It was no problem. Have a good night!”

He gave you a soft smile (and you really liked his smile) and a small wave with the hand holding the keys. “You too,” he said, and closed the door.

Definitely a good decision.

2.

After that, you saw Jason around every so often. You ran into him once at the mailroom, but you were in a little bit of a rush, and it wasn’t more than a quick exchange of hellos before you had to run back upstairs to vacuum your apartment before you had company over.

He waved to you once, when you were walking into the building and he was leaving. You didn’t even recognize him before he waved, bundled up against the snowstorm. But then you waved back, and he smiled and then your cheeks that were just freeing from the temperature outside were warm and the pink tint wasn’t because of the snow.

It became a bit of a tradition. Every time you saw him, you’d wave and smile and he’d do the same. For a little while, that and the occasional hello and comment about the weather was all you interacted with him. But it brightened your day whenever you saw him. As time went on, you saw him more and more often. Sometimes he’d have a bruise on his face or a bandage and you ask if he was alright and he’d brush it off with a wave or a shake of his head and a smile. You weren’t complaining though. Sometimes it was those interactions that got you through your day. (You didn’t want to admit you were falling for his smile.)

3.

Someone was holding the door open when you finally got back to your apartment building. It was stereotypical Gotham outside —that is to say, pouring rain— and between the warm weather and grocery bags in your hands, you had neither a jacket on nor an umbrella. You ducked inside and put your bags down on the floor, heaving out a sigh of relief after walking three blocks home in the rain and pushed your wet hair out of your eyes. It stuck to your face, plastered to your forehead.

You didn’t even recognize the person who helped you until you looked up.

“Oh Jason, hi! I’m so sorry I didn’t realize it was you. Thanks for the door; I think I might have dropped these if I tried to get it myself.” Jason smiled. He had a fading bruise on one cheekbone and his left arm in a sling; only one arm was through the sleeve of his jacket.

“Don’t worry about it. It’s crappy outside.” He jerked a nod towards your grocery bags. “Can I help you get a couple of those?” You looked back at your bags. They were heavy, and you weren’t looking forward to climbing four flights of stairs with them, but you weren’t going to ask him for help.

“No, you’re injured. I can get them.” Jason shrugged.

“I’ve still got one good arm. And by the looks of you, you’re more likely to slip on the stairs if you have to carry all of those at once. And I wouldn't suggest making two trips because some skeevy people live around here.”

You huffed out a resigned laugh. “Wow, way to call me out.” Jason’s amused smirk told you that was exactly what he was trying to do, and it worked. “Ok, sure, you can take a couple. But only a couple.”

“Sure, sure, if that makes you feel better.”

“It does,” you retorted, tilting your chin up in a mock-pompous retort. Jason laughed out loud at that, and proceeded to pick up your two heaviest bags and start towards the stairs. You smiled after him and grabbed the rest. It wasn’t clear to you if you felt lighter because of the missing weight or Jason's laughter. (Oh who were you kidding, you knew which.)

Jason was standing at your door when you got there, and you dropped one handful of bags to unlock the door and push it open before pulling out the key and heading inside. You toed off your shoes and made your way into your small kitchen to put down the bags.

“You can leave your shoes by the door, if you don’t mind.”

When you turned around, Jason was already behind you, and sure enough, you could see large boots next to your shoes just inside. You took the bags from him. “Thanks.”

Jason turned. “Nice place you got here.” You gave him a look.

“And exactly like yours too I’m guessing. Jason shrugged.

“Can’t blame a guy for trying.”

“No no, full politeness credit goes to you.” Jason chuckled and turned back around, just in time to see you pull out a new box of tea.

“Want to stay for a cup? It’s the least I can do to repay you for your help.”

Jason shrugged. “You don’t owe me anything, trust me.”

You bit your lip, your eyes meeting his, glowing green in the dim light of your apartment.

“Maybe not, but if I want to?”

Jason’s lips cracked into a soft smile. “Well that book on your kitchen table isn’t going to recommend itself right?”

You smiled back. “Oh we're talking about books? Get comfortable, you’ll be here a while.”

You were joking at the time, but he didn’t leave until 2:30 am, after you fell asleep on the couch, hair barely dry from the rain outside.

[herclandestine]

14th of january — i have lots of things to do and too many deadlines to catch, but i am not complaining because i always love busy times like this. it's just that, i really struggle with managing my time and i have the tendency to procrastinate. ahh, it's something i badly need to work on.

right now, i am taking a quick break in between work. it's 12:45PM as of writing and i have not taken my lunch yet. i don't feel hungry as of the moment since it was already a little late when i had my breakfast, past 10am to be a little specific. i'm alone in the office, i mean at least in the room where my desk is situated.

recently, i have gotten a little annoyed with myself because my new 6am is now 8am. gracious goodness! my normal waking up time is now at 8am or even past than that. i'm still trying to figure out how i should correct that. every day is like a constant battle between myself and the monkey in my head. i tend to stay up late, thus, waking up late as well. i don't use alarms and i'm too dependent on my body's natural way of waking up. it's used to getting 8hours of sleep, so it's really hard for me to wake up at 6am when i usually sleep at 12 huhu sucha a struggle. so right now, i really have to work on trying to sleep early. it would be hard, thinking about it now, but i really have to. maybe i should try tracking my sleeping hours and share it here for some accountability. oh, please, @self, just please. i will start tracking tonight. i sure will!

another thing that i have been working on is my social media usage. i want to reduce my social media consumption, and in this context, i only mean facebook, instagram and twitter. i'd like to start small as knowing myself, i don't want to be overwhelmed then fail completely. thus, i'm starting with only ditching twitter for 7 days. then, after that, i won't be using twitter plus instagram for another 7 days, then will add facebook next. facebook is the hardest to drop these days especially when we're using it for the business, but i still would like to try.

on another note, i have a lot of engagements lately. i have three financial statements to prepare outside my full-time job, plus i have works to do for the sangguniang kabataan office in our brgy, and a friend hit me up to help him on a possible side hustle that he has in mind.

we had a really great conversation last night and we scheduled a zoom meeting for tonight so we can talk more about it. we need to do it in a video call since he's currently in manila and i am in the province. i am honored that of all people, he remembered me and even the first one to know of his ideas. i greatly support him as it is one of my interests as well. i've always admired this guy when it comes to grit and it's such a privilege to have friends like him. i want to be surrounded by people like this because their spirit always encourages me to aim more and do more.

i'm thankful for everything ✨✨✨ lezz do this 💪

[chibisquirt]

You don't have to answer, but if you wouldn't mind. What are some things you've learned about ADHD from Tumblr that are applicable to you, or others you may now? I've been reading more on it and how it manifests in girls/women and was curious when I read your rb on that post about Grammarly

I don’t mind at all!  Fair warning:  this is gonna be LONG.

I’m going to start by repeating something I mentioned in that post:  I was diagnosed in third grade, which was over two decades ago.  I had my diagnosis halfway through elementary school, much less high school and two rounds of college.  So a lot of the old information about ADHD I learned as a young person, and those things are worth exploring, too.  

Example:  It’s not that I’m not listening, Mrs. Nock, it’s just that if I try to keep my hands still, then the only thing I will retain from the lesson will be keep your hands still and not the things you trying to teach, which are supposedly important! 

(Mrs. Nock was the one who said to me, “I believe you believe you’re paying attention.”  Yes, it’s been fifteen years.  Yes, I’m still mad.  If you can’t have basic respect for your students, don’t teach.)

I figured out half on my own, half because of the counselling that if I had a fidget tool that didn’t require words I would pay better attention than if I tried to sit still.  (I still remember being mocked by my dad for fidgeting well after making that discovery, though.  Apparently diagnoses should only inform compassion when they’re his.)  On the same lines, I also figured out that music in the background wouldn’t work for me if it had words, and television is too distracting for me to use at all.  (I have a friend, though, whose ADHD works the opposite way:  he has difficulty focusing if there isn’t a television in the background.  Yes, both are valid.)

So, the Classics:  

I always had trouble with organization and cleaning, had trouble with schedules and calendars and managing my time.  Those are the things they’ll warn you about, the things they’ll tell you in counselling are natural and normal things for people with ADHD to have trouble with.  Trouble paying attention, sure.  Trouble sitting still.  Procrastination.  Got it.

But if you turn those traits around and re-frame them, they become a new set of symptoms.  Adaptations for these new symptoms are more personal and universally applicable in my life, and therefore, to my mind, more useful.

Take Procrastination.  (No really: please take it.)  That just means “putting it off until tomorrow,” and there are lots of reasons to do it:  “don’t have the tool I need” is one of the biggies, “want to conserve steps” trips me up a lot, “I still have time to get to it” is HUGE for me...  But a lot of times, these are just superficial reasons.  The re-framed symptom is, Trouble making yourself do things you don’t want to do.  

ADHD is an executive function disorder.  That’s a phrase I first learned on Tumblr, by the way; it may have been mentioned by one of my earlier counsellors, but it definitely wasn’t taught.  

This is why soooo many of us have struggled with the perception (including self-perception) that we’re lazy!  But no one tells the kid in the wheelchair he’s just lazy for not playing basketball.  (Okay, they totally do.  People are terrible.  Ignore that, stick to the point.)  I reframe this the way I do because acknowledging this as a symptom, taking the blame out of it, makes it easier to find adaptation.

Now, this is a personal post.  YMMV.  But I have an easier time managing my conduct if, instead of calling myself lazy a procrastinator, I say, “I keep not doing that --> oh it’s because I Don’t Wanna --> how can I con myself into doing it?”  (Strategies include bargaining, making it easier, powering through but then allowing yourself to stop afterwards, just acknowledging that I Don’t Wanna and allowing that to be valid...)  Procrastination is an action, but “executive function disorder” is a disease and “I Don’t Wanna” is its trigger, just as much as an allergy and a clump of ragweed are.  “Procrastination” is a powerful sphynx against which I’m helpless, but “I Don’t Wanna Disease” lets me start cultivating my metaphorical catnip and researching the answers to common riddles.

And while we’re talking about procrastination--and trouble with deadlines, and schedules in general--let’s talk about Time Insensitivity.  Missed deadlines and perpetual lateness (perpetual) are external actions, just like procrastination, and they can have all sorts of explanations.  

(Shoutout to Mrs. Pollack, who looked around a classroom containing thirteen-year-old me, and, knowing full well that I was chronically tardy, declared that “anybody who’s always running late, deep down, they just doesn’t care about anybody else’s time.”  Great job with calling the thirteen-year-old a heartless bitch, Mrs. Pollack!  As you can tell, I definitely forgot it very quickly, and didn’t at all have a self-critical breakdown about it, periodically revisiting the question of my own inherent selfishness for years!!!)

But ignoring the external actions, let’s take a compassionate look inside the head again.  Executive function includes regulation of, and awareness of the passing of, time.  Again: you can’t play the basketball with no legs.  We literally do not realize what time is doing.  Sometimes we do--if we devote enough of our attention to it, which may be a large amount for some, a small amount for others, or a variable amount for the same person.  But our brains literally don’t process it the same way.  

But hold on a minute--let’s go back to that analogy.  Because actually, people with no legs can play basketball!  It’s just that you have to use the adaptation of wheelchairs to do it--and that’s an adaptation for the game and for the players.  

I use alarms.  I’ve recently seen a post about audio memos as alarms.  There are people who just slap clocks everywhere.  When I was forced to work in a kitchen with no clocks, I used the multi-setting timer and set it for like four hours so I would know if I was keeping on schedule.  I also chose a job environment where much of my shift is the same as itself, and rigid punctuality isn’t enforced--that’s adapting my environment, instead of myself.  There’s all kinds of adaptations.  But you have to know you have the condition before you can compensate for it.

Here’s a fun little story:  when I was... oh, eleven?  Twelve?  My Quaker Meeting’s youth group (#7 whitest phrase I’ve ever written) went to the museum together.  One of the stops was in the children’s section, there was a... a pegboard, I think?  With some kind of problem on it.  A puzzle.  Me and a couple others sat down at it, and it took me a while, but eventually I solved it, and I looked up.  

I blinked.  “Where is everybody?” I said.

“They left,” said my mom.  “Half an hour ago.”  

I was stunned.  “Half an hour ago?!  But I couldn’t’ve spent more than ten minutes on this!”

“I promise you, it was half an hour.”

“Why didn’t you call me??  Why didn’t you say my name?”

“We did.  Several times.”

To this day, I will swear myself blind that I never heard a thing.

Hyperfocusing.  They’ll tell you about the problems focusing; oh yes.  They’ll tell you allll about that one.  But they won’t tell you about the flip side of it.  They won’t tell you about the times when the rest of the world falls away, and the only two things in the world are you and whatever problem you’re trying to solve.  

D’y’know what, I bet that’s the reason I test well.  I just realized this now, phrasing it like that, but--I’ve always tested well, even when my actual practical applications of things are mediocre I do well with the classroom testing on it.  I scored a 39 on the MCAT, back when it was out of 45 and not whatever it is now.  (To those with the plain good sense not to want to be doctors:  that’s pretty good.)  And I just bet it’s because, once I get focused on solving the problems, the other problems--nerves, intrusive thoughts, anxiety--just don’t have room to get in.  Hyperfocusing can be a superpower, if you can harness it.  

But it can also blind you to everything else.  And it works in smaller ways, too:  once I think I understand something, it is very difficult for me to perceive information that contradicts that understanding.  I still get the map of the Elflands backwards every time I read The Goblin Emperor, just because I pictured it one way, and every indication in the text that it was the other way just fell on deaf ears.  

And this one leads right into the next, which is Rejection Sensitivity Disorder.  RSD is hyperfocus, but it’s hyperfocus on how everyone must hate you.  It’s delightful!  I’ve been diagnosed with anxiety and depression, as well, and I do have both of those things, but for my money, I think that this one symptom of ADHD--which no doctor has ever even mentioned to me--has hurt me more than both of those conditions combined.  

The last one I’m going to bring up is Auditory Processing Disorder.  Now, I’ve gone and gotten re-diagnosed twice in my life, and the last time was just a few years ago, so they actually used this one in the test.  The psychologist told me about it, she just didn’t use the phrase Auditory Processing Disorder, and she didn’t tell me that it was its own symptom--she just used it for the test.  

What she did was, she gave me two hearing tests, one to test whether or not I could hear, and then the other a list of words that all sounded alike, and I had to mark which one I was hearing.  The second part of that was very long, and very boring, and despite scoring perfectly on the first test, I got several wrong on the second.  I was actually surprised by that; I at no point suspected I had heard any of them wrong.  When she gave me the test, told me this was proof by contradiction, that we were ruling out hearing loss as an alternative explanation for my difficulties.  It was only after the test was done that she explained that the pattern I showed was actually part of the diagnosis of ADHD; that we get bored, and stop really paying attention, and that we don’t even know we’re doing it.

...Okay, but you couldn’t have mentioned the part where I also do that every day in real life, lady?!?!  It’s not just when we’re bored, it’s not just for long processes.  I do this all the time.  I actually tell people now that “I actually have a neurological condition that makes it hard for me to hear; I can tell that you’re speaking, but I can’t tell what you’re saying.”  

This is 100% true.  It is a neurological condition.  

We label this a condition, but as a society, we don’t treat it that way.  Society treats it as yet another excuse.  It’s not.  You’re not lazy, stupid or crazy.  Neither am I.  

I have a condition.  Acknowledging that is the first step of treatment.  Not five thousand sticky notes, not binders or filing systems or even taking all the doors off the cupboards (although I definitely plan to do that one as soon as I possibly can).  Not counselling sessions with so many different people I can’t even name them all, for the love of god please understand that you can’t just fix it with pills.  

(Although mad props to the people who thought Concerta would magically solve me at the age of nine!  Spoiler alert:  it did not do that!  But it did mean that my parents felt comfortable blaming me for all my failures again, so it did at least some of what it was designed for, I guess. :) )   

I have spent the last few years re-understanding my ADHD it as is:  a neurological condition, a disability, and a simple fact of life.  A starting place, instead of yet more proof of my own inherent insufficiency.  And you know what?  When you take the blame and self-hatred out of the diagnosis--when you stop cursing it as the cause of all your problems and start trying to work with it, instead--it gets a lot easier to manage. 

[my-nameless-bliss]

Hi! So, I'm applying to grad schools and my first app deadline is next Friday. I've been working pretty hard on it, but I've been finding it really hard to concentrate on them this week because of fall break. Do you have any advice about this? Should I power through? Or should I just wait until break is over to finish it? After break is over, I only have a week to work on it so that makes me a bit nervous. :/

Hi, anon! So, the important thing to know here is that I’ve never actually filled out a college application, much less one for grad school. Please keep that in mind, and know that everything I’m going to say is about productivity in general, not the specific project you’re working on. I have no experience with applications, so take this with a grain of salt!

But as far as getting an important task done on a deadline, I absolutely believe that you should work on it as much as possible during your break. I know it’s hard to motivate yourself when you have time off, and if you’re anything like me, you’re probably dealing with some sense of obligation to do as much fun stuff as possible during your break, so doing something useful might feel antithetical. But I think you will feel much better about the final product if you give yourself this much time to work on it. Personally, I’m a huge procrastinator by nature, so I definitely understand the struggle. But that means that I also know first-hand how much better it feels to have something done early than to panic and stress about it when it’s down to the wire.

So to have the best of both worlds, I think you should try to balance working on your application and enjoying your time off. Obviously this is something you need to judge yourself, but I think a good goal might be to get the application actually filled out - just the basics, just actually completed without worrying about quality - before your break is over. Then you can take that next week after your break is over to go over and edit and refine it. That way, you won’t use up all of your break being worried about a perfect final product, and you won’t be stressed about actually getting it finished when you get closer to the deadline. You’ll have the safety net of knowing that the application is technically finished, you just need to make improvements, which is much less overwhelming.

As far as trying to focus while your on break (which I know is awful), I’ve always found it helpful to make a reasonable, realistic schedule. Whether or not you end up sticking to it to the letter, it’s at least going to give you a good starting point. When I’m trying to get something done on a deadline, I like using a guideline that I’ve seen a lot of writers use, which is to work for twenty minutes, then take a break for ten, and repeat as needed. Personally, I find that it’s better for me to work for fifteen minutes, and break for five, but that’s something you can play around with and see what makes the most sense for you and your schedule. Also, I find it helpful to find something specific to do during the ‘break’ sections of that schedule, so I’m not twiddling my thumbs and feeling anxious (i.e. useless) for five minutes, because that can really discourage me from going back to work. My favorite setup is to find a simple, non-timed game that I can come in and out of every few minutes (I’m always a slut for FreeCell). Working for small chunks of time really takes the pressure off for me, because it gives me plenty of chances to decompress and walk away from the parts that are stressful. It’s really nice to stop during work and take some time to breathe and think about something else.

Basically, I think balance is a good option for you right now. Don’t pressure yourself to get the entire thing done perfectly during your break (since that could potentially ruin your whole break with too much stress), but don’t put off the whole thing until the last minute (since that is obviously a stressful mess). I personally think the most comfortable solution is to work steadily over your break, and take that last week to go over what you’ve done. I bet you’ll work better when you’re not stressed for time, and you’ll enjoy your break more if you aren’t worried about having a huge amount of work left to do when it’s over! 💜😊💜