#i hope she learned why i dont just tell the doctors i have adhd.

[invisibleoctopus]

just had a very "The Tower" tarot card moment

where i had just about the worst experience ever with the psychiatrist and i ended up having to tell him that i walked away from every single appointment feeling like my concerns werent heard and i just got dismissed. and had to SPECIFY that it was every appointment and not just this one. some of yall have seen my other posts about these appointments.

but then i immediately found something i actually liked and i have the tab open on my computer to Deal With later when im not fresh out of a Bad Doctor Experience

[autismvampyre]

ok so audhd rant/asking for advice

we had a psychologicist come to the class to explain autism and adhd today. the reason why is bc i have faced a lot of discrimination, ableism and bullying from my peers bc of my disorders. my teachers felt we should all learn what the words mean and why they should never be used as insults, and how that can affect someone, which is a nice sentiment.

the person they picked was recommended by my mother, which should've been my first warning sign, bc try as she might my mother does not understand the autistic community. she trusts the professionals which is good bc im not a doctor and they're qualified, i get it; but also i dont fucking trust professionals to understand me because not once did my doctors help me understand when i was diagnosed. i asked to meet her before she came to the school, but my mom insisted she was great so i held back and tried to be hopeful, because even if a lot of my experience with professionals has been negative doesn't mean they're all bad and ignorant

anyways, she was exactly like every other psychologist ever and explained everything in the most basic way ive even seen. she literally sounded like the people who explained my diagnoses to me when i got them at age 11 and those mf's were literally useless. it took me years to actually understand what my disorder meant and i only figured it out by talking to other people with autism and adhd instead of reading shit by professionals and autism moms. the way we are portrayed by psychiatrists is not my experience at all and they often use outdated language and speak in very broad terms and don't bring up any of the things that i find important. i know not everyone with adhd and autism is the same but i genuinely cannot relate to the way they talk about us at all. like, this psychiatrist didn't even mention executive dysfunction and kept talking about how it "isn't an excuse" and fucking everyone agreed.

i feel like almost an anti-vaxxer, claiming i know better than doctors, so i genuinely do try to understand and accept doctors but i just cant fucking stand it. am i wrong for thinking she's wrong? like she has a degree, but she also doesn't seem to understand me and idk if im just a weird outlier even in my neurodivergence or if im right and she doesn't truly understand. like im not a doctor, im just a person who has these disorders but i genuinely feel misrepresented and like all these explanations are for other people to understand that they have to put up with me. i feel infantilised and really fucking bummed. like, i knew she wasn't gonna be perfect bc she isn't actually in the community but the level of generalization and misinformation was so disappointing

i feel fucking crazy. cause who am i to disagree with her when she's the professional, yk?? im no one. they won't listen to me. my classmates can't empathize with me like they do each other, and so many of them think they get it bc they're white teenage boys with adhd that are low support(and im happy for them that they feel good about it!! genuinely! and not saying they aren't valid, but in my experience many of them tend to unknowingly invalidate other people with the disorder who are different than them/have higher support needs) and can't seem to understand that other people have different experiences and struggles with the same disorder. i also live in a very conservative city, and even if the school is more liberal, we are still very high in MUF(the moderate party's youth) and you can tell because everyone i know is either apolitical or conservative, except me and the three leftists. it's a hostile environment, and i feel like im rambling but whatever. i needed to get it off my chest

[anathemanonymous]

Spilling it in the first person: truths I need to accept

Well, it's not going well. I feel like I am not moving forward,but backward. I held myself back by trying to do the right thing.

I gave you the whole house in trade for my freedom. There was no end date on the agreement. It simply stated you would get the property and all the responsibility of the associated bills. It also stated you would agree to hold me harmless.

Well, that didnt happen.

I'm still stuck 4 years after leaving. The attorney told me not to pay off the foreclosure but I did. Twice. I stopped the process of filing contempt in August. She was livid. She offered me the option to have you removed from the house and I could keep it. Well, I had just signed the apt lease. A one year contract. How was I supposed to afford two house payments? I didn't want that responsibility. I left the house to prove I wasnt married to this man for the money. He refused to leave. So I did.

Both our names remain on the title. Bank cant take me off. You refuse to sell. You cannot afford to refinance.

What are you trying to do here?

As I am being held in place by obligation you insist upon complaining about how it is my fault that you are suffering. How you are refusing to cooperate. Refuse to work or pay bills. Refuse to accept that I left. Refuse to reach out or grow in healthy ways. Refuse to stop drinking or doing drugs. Refuse to try to improve our shitty relationship. Refuse to reach out to your own child. Refuse to sell the house. Refuse to clean it. Trick me into calling off the attorney at the last foreclosure: you say you will pay me back the $5500 and we can fix up the house. I tell you how uneasy I feel about this deal. You tell me to trust you.

I clean and clean on my days off work and you sit and ridicule and drink. You tell me it's no rush. You literally have no money to fix it up. I have gone round and around with Fred at the agency to get him to agree to put the house on the market and how we need to sell to a qualified buyer. How to ensure no consequences from this home being doomed. How to do the right thing. How to honor the promises to the agency and to the bank. Its ridiculous how often I've triaged with your mother. How many phone calls and notes kept on the research of creating a plan to salvage the property and you.

And you. I have given you money. I have paid your debts. I have taken you to the doctor. I set you up for evaluation of ADHD. You cry about your health. You cant get off the couch. You cry about being broke, depressed with no reason to live. When I speak to you, you continue to put me down, to accuse me of never caring. You accuse me of malicious crimes against you for the past 16 years. You claim I just used you. My entire life was built around supporting you. You accuse me of going against you deliberately. You blame for your behaviors of rude comments and refusals to cooperate or participate in anything related to parenting or household chores or budgeting or my feelings. I was threatened by your recklessness. I was doomed to being overly responsible but got nothing but contempt in return.

There wasn't peace. There wasnt love. No support. Constant arguments and blow ups. Constant strife. Constant pain. Carrying your weight twice my size. Trying to rape me. Trying to negate me. Trying to minimize me. Criticizing every fucking thing I did or said or believed. Faking it in front of your friends and parents. Giving nothing but expecting me to provide for your every need on a whim. Needing help with your business books, spending hours only to be discredited and rejected. You put your shit first. You blocked my path with your messiness. You left it all up to me but gave me no credit, no control and no power. Then accuse me of doing the same to you. You ridiculed my hobbies, my goals, my dreams. You chose your friends over me. You drank to the point of black out every day. You stopped working. Your buisness partner abandoned you even after he stole from the business account, you kept him around. You kept giving him your share of our household bills instead of pay our bills. So I paid. You stole my tax returns for years. You were rude and inconsiderate toward how any of your shitty choices affected me and our family. You have withheld love and given only pain. You ignored my feelings and needs. And now you complain and claim to suffer worse than me?

What about me??

To top it off: after moving out and returning on a regular basis to check in with you even as you deliberately were harming me financially and emotionally...I get hate when I remove the loaded guns in the house bc you're suicidal from all the drugs and no sleep and not eating and not working and I worry and I feel sorry and I want to keep things normal so I see the mess and try not to do the cleaning, the yardwork.

I play with the dogs and feed them and you always leave when I arrive ...or start an argument until you chase me away.

After 4 years of being ridiculed and blamed....instead of being heard and validated.

I have to actually accept that you are openly and intentionally holding me hostage financially and emotionally. You admit it on text. Your mother claims you were just drinking and you didnt mean it. What will it take to justify my actions?

Its been 4 years of waiting on pins and needles. Of not breathing. Or being stuck. Not to mention the 7 years before I left the house. Trying to fix things.

Looking back, I've never received emotional support from you. Other than to stay away from my family.

I have a hard time accepting the fact that you didn't improve yourself when I left. You got worse. You stopped trying long before I left. And I hoped you would recognize how awful you'd become. I was risking a chance that you would change into a responsible adult. Learn to care for me in real ways. Appreciate me, quite frankly. I was looking for appreciation. Recognition. Acceptance. Acknowledgement. The elements of love.

I left because there was no love.

It was the right thing to do.

Unhealthy relationships are meant to fall apart.

Blame me or blame you. It doesn't matter. It takes two to have a relationship. It becomes one sided.

Wait. It was always one sided. I wanted to believe it was a mutual relationship. I dreamed it. I created the illusion of it. But it could not be felt. Bc it was a mirage. It only looked like something real. It felt empty. Like a shell. Like a home without a foundation. Ready to fall apart like a Hollywood studio prop.

I was lying to myself the whole time.

The only way out now is to tell the truth. To let shit fall apart by not adding to it. To stop putting in.

But it feels wrong to let my house go into foreclosure. It feels wrong to file with a lawyer. It feels so wrong to do nothing to help, on purpose. Yet it is the right way. Right? This world is absolutely ridiculous. Just fucking back breaking and disheartening. People are so viscous. Banks and lawyers. Without hearts. Empty motherfucking shells of humans.

I knew the truth but didn't want to face it. Denial is so powerful. It can change the way you see things. Or exclude what you do not want to see. Or feel.

I wanted to believe love could make my dream come true, become real. Make me real.

All the proof was in your actions. Fighting me every step of the way. Calling me crazy. You're right. It is crazy to live that way. I agree.

So if it's TRUE : then I have to accept the reality that you don't care about me. Either you cant, or you are just unwilling. You say you love me. But what does love mean? It seems you only care that I care for you. How much I can give and prove that I care. Prove by sacrificing my needs, time, money, energy.

Every fiber of my being is going against the fact that the only way out of this situation is divorce and foreclosure of my home. Abandoning you. Why does it feel unethical and immoral? Huge conflict within.

I tried to help you and to salvage my credit, I have spent over $15,000 to bail it out . ..because I'd already put so much into it that I want to keep on the same path. I dont want a different anonymous path. I want to stay where its familiar. But then again, why? I've never been happy on this path. From experience, moving on does not guarantee happiness either.

I'm standing my ground. I'm honoring my values of integrity and refusing to tolerate abuse and nonsense.

But yes it's hard to move on bc I am ever-wanting to keep convincing myself and the world ...proof of how mature and dedicated I am, of my own goodness, my own kindness, my own value.

If my value rests on a successful career in marriage then I have discredited myself. I have failed to be a quality product. Yikes.

..because I hid behind it, and I'd do anything to keep up the facade. I am afraid to be seen as alone, maybe. I am afraid to stand up against the abuse bc it means I have failed. That I am faulty. Not worthy. Maybe I asked for it. Or deserve it.

Shame is a terrible feeling.

By the virtue of which I choose to honor, I thereby become less valuable. I protected your reputation. I kept silent. I protected my own reputation as well. Now I am throwing it out the window. Breaking a promise to myself to never do that again. Yes, I have experienced this all before. Many times. Throughout my lifetime. I had to destroy my own identity.

Because I could pretend I belonged. I could pretend I had a healthy relationship and family. But the sacrifice was too much. And I was so off-balance. I was shut off. Closed down. Depressed. Sick.

You refused to lie for me. So I left. We dont have to keep pretending to play house. Maybe that disappointed me. You want to play cops and robbers. I refused. Lol. Whatever.

And maybe the ultimate cage I try to break free from is being forced to stay small, a repeating pattern from throughout my entire childhood. It is the shame I carry. The unworthy nature of my wounded inner child.

When confronted with opening up I remain skeptical and scared. I beat myself up. I feel rejected, disillusioned, hurt, betrayed, and I am ashamed of showing that I am being harmed. I am am afraid to speak up. When I do, I get shut down by you, your family, my attorney, the court, society.

This triple whammy has knocked me off my feet every time I try to stand up. I feel insulted by the slights of neighbors, the sounds of the outside world. I speak up against emotional manipulation and I feel the feather of rejection like a sledgehammer.

... I am accused of being crazy. I post on social media. I get very little support. The message I'm receiving is: your perception is inaccurate, we all have a human right to happiness and respect but you should be ashamed of exposing yourself like that. It makes you look vulnerable, it tarnishes our code of taboo subjects, think about your reputation, bc we as a society are not comfortable with displays of vulnerability. Call a hotline or something.

You know what? I dont need a fucking hotline. My counselor didnt even recognize me during our last phone session. Fuck this system. I'm on my own. And if I have to become more viscous and bitter to fit in, I prefer to stand alone.

[mediumredbullmantra-blog]

Have a read (not entirely safe)

Has anyone ever when something very first defined the personality they have today for every situation??? Either way . I’m just gonna share with you a bunch of random times from my life. You may believe it or you may not. It is not all entirely insane but i’ll get there. A little background on my family , cancer, mental disorders ( of extreme means ) , and a few physical disabilities. 

So i was gonna start with this sentence ,but also diabetes.

Remember poking people for fun?? Well my family has a fantastic story about that regarding a bus ride home. In their version they came to wait for me to get off the bus . only to find other parents in a commotion. Apparently this 3rd grader wouldn’t quit poking me .So I pulle dhim off the bus and went to town . Now whats funny to all of us is that it took 3 grown men to tear me off the boy. Of course I don’t remember this. What I do remember is that sometime in the near future I decided to walk to my babysitters house . She was honestly alot of fun to be around. We all lived in a trailer park in a town I dont care to mention ( and apparently im to lazy to make grammatical corrections) Either way i’m on my way to her house and in the process im skipping rocks because what else do children do? A boy on the right was standing at the bottom of his stairs and started picking on me . I kept walking and skipping my rocks and as fate would have it one of my rocks knocked him square in the stomach . And I ended up being shoved into a bed of stickers , and may I say that shit sucks big balls like balls you could not fit into any area on your body . So I got up and ran , my entire intention was to get to my house. Along the way I found a metal pipe and why wouldn’t I pick t up? There was no logical reason in my mind not to beat the kid with it. So I grabbed it and ran back towards him and from there I broke his nose and bruised a couple ribs. In my mind he deserved it . Shouldn’t have pushed me in the stickers. Next thing I remember my mother and I heard a knock on the door and i kept screaming I didn’t do it. But of course I did. Ya’ll kids are dangerous when cornered. my mom answered the door and there is the boy along with his dad and his other kids. His sisters kept laughing sayinmg o she whooped his ass . But the dad happened to be the landlord , so like slumlords go there were consequences.

That is the first time I remember getting in a fight. The first time I saw 4 cop cars ever in my life was again in the near future. So my uncle grabs me from school and decides to take me to the store with him so I could get some candy . Well we were gone longer than expected. when we got home My mom my grandma everyone is running around yelling my name cops are searching and my uncle just starts dying laughing . When we parked my mom punched the shit out of him for not telling her. They all thought I was taken. But of course me and my uncle thought it was funny. ( although kidnapping happens all the time and is no joke) 

Later in my life I was playing tetherball having a blast and I got hit in the face that is the first time I have ever felt uncontrollable anger. Of course I knew it was an accident, but I definitely did not let that go . I charged the kid and we smacked on the concrete jarring us both and again went to town. All of this has a point .

At age 7 I kicked my doctor in the shin , because they asked me if I wanted medicine . I had just been diagnosed with adhd and was not having it.

Again at age 7 I bit a cop in the leg. Now I’m not saying it was justifiable i’m just saying that he wasn’t going to take the person he was trying to take. So I latched on. The person in my family tells me a story later in life about how when they got to the station the officers asked what happened because his leg was bloody. one officer automatically jumps up and asked if he needs help escorting this person . The officer then says no it wasn’t them , officer number asks then who was it. A seven year old he says and of course they all get  a kick out of it . ya’ll cops keep us safe and I understand that we feel like we wil never get our family back sometimes but i’m also suggesting unless you are an adorable 7 year old just do what your told.

I guess being 7 was a big year for me. I found a frozen squirrell , always was at the skating rink , first motorcycle ride and also the very first time I learned as a girl what it felt like to be racked. My bright idea was to balance on a metal railing 3 ft off the ground when it was raining. i mean I was bored . Either way I slipped and let me explain it this way. very simply I puked everywhere and could not walk. I had a pelvic bruise for days.

Well lucky me that passed before I got my bicycle. Or so I thought. Two instances in that same year resulting in injury. Once very little but handle bar jammed into my stomach scraping it but no bleeding I was winding but the only thing left of that still today is a circle spot on my tummy that never gets dark Its the whitest part of my entire body .

The next I was riding over to my babysitters again but as fate would have it I drop my juicy fruit over the side of the bridge that divided both parts of the trailer park. Well I was going to hits my brakes but instead pushed forward. The next thing i see is the bridge from 8 feet down on a concrete slab and my shoes a somewhere no clue where and my socks stuck in the barbwire and I realize i can’t move my right leg. I manage my way out of the creek and my pastor took me back home and i made me way inside until my uncle was told to take me to the hospital and to add insult to injury there were only three steps in front of the door. My leg decides to fully lock and I fac eplant in the gravel and what does my uncle do ? laughs because what else are you supposed to do when a kid busts ass. We get to the hospital and he jacks my wheel chair and disappears. 

That’s all the randoms i’m gonna give for now my hands are tired soif anyone reads this enjoy I hope it made you laugh and Hope you take the little bits of advice. And i apologize if the sentence structure bothers you I dont want to fix it anyhow.

[horsebitesfence]

On Chronophobia and ADHD – RB with Hestia Peppe

RB: hey, i think i just self-diagnosed with ADHD, am i right in thinking that's something you know about? would welcome any recs you might have for reading/resources

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RB: (it would explain so muchhhh)

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RB: (also wondering about the rel between ADHD and trauma)

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HP: Oooh yes! ADHD is definitely the errr paradigm I am working with right now if that's a way to think about it.

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HP: I am actually amazed by how practically useful it has been to think in these terms.

But I will say in terms of research/resources stuff is thin on the ground and mixed up with a lot of neurocognitive research which i find quite dodgy in places, not to mention the (very american) pharmaceutical agenda.The best stuff i found has been self advocacy descriptive personal account stuff, and that has been very much a process of reading between the lines.

Basically, people with ADHD tend to at least appear quite ‘high functioning’ (not an ideal phrase because hierarchies) so go undetected often, and then its very very stigmatised, i would say, in that often symptoms or traits are judged in moral terms. The most important sort of secondary ideas i have found are about Rejection Sensitivity Dysphoria, and anxiety as a hugely comorbid secondary issue which is more likely to be treated than the ADHD itself.

The relationship to discipline and goal-setting is formative, as is chronophobia or a traumatised relation to time, and sometimes memory. The neurocognitive hypothesis is that it’s a problem in the dopamine cycle, so process is more fulfilling than completion of work; but i am super skeptical about neurotransmitter theories.

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HP: As far as its relation to trauma goes, i would say it probably renders us more vulnerable to CPTSD. Lack of diagnosis or 'management' of ADHD leads to problematic coping mechanisms, leading possibly to abusive or addictive behaviours or on the other end vulnerability from a lack of or funky interpersonal boundaries. But whether anything is causal/symptomatic or comorbid seems always particularly hard to tell with ADHD, partly because of the non-typical relation to time.

HP: The neurocognitive hypothesis is that it’s a problem in the dopamine cycle, so [that] process is more fulfilling than completion of work, but i am super skeptical about neurotransmitter theories.

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HP: On the plus side, [my] university and NHS [practitioners] have both been really encouraging about seeking help for it and getting a psychiatric diagnosis, which i am interested in, tho will no doubt have its downsides.

Most important, i think, is that mental health problems are treated in the context of ADHD as a constitution, rather than [in isolation], and i think that would go for trauma stuff too. Apparently ADHD folks have less success with SSRIs than others.
I think a body focused/somatic approach [is] v. v. productive, for both ADHD and trauma.

Rejection Sensitivity Dysphoria [also] seems key. It’s the idea that the emotional impact of rejection is almost irrationally high in many ADHD folks, but [then again] this may be a traumatised relation from the stigma of ADHD, and literally being reprimanded more often than neurotypical folks, rather than being an essential difference. So if there's an interaction with trauma specific to ADHD it might be related to emotional response to external stimuli being higher.

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RB: gosh, yea.

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HP: Sorry so much.

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RB:  Wondering how receptive my gp would be to my requesting an adult diagnosis

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HP: My GP was like ‘yes, will refer u immediately’, but that’s with a recommendation from an Ed Psych which uni paid for. *UPDATE: NHS maybe aren’t doing this as quickly as i thought, so it remains to be seen if they follow through; and university seems to just be sending me through as many hoops as possible, lots of assessments, minimal support systems.

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RB: ok

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RB:  i saw this on Twitter – ‘ADHD Explained Using Comics’ by Dani Donovan,1

and, like, so much of it is me. ,2So much. idk what chronophobia is but def. have weird relationship with time. Very weird.

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HP:  I have sort of made up chronophobia but am sure its a thing.

..

RB: 'comorbidity'

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RB:  i feel lost in time.

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HP: It seems to me the best stuff around is DIY stuff exactly like the comics u link to

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RB: also – trouble starting anything; trouble finishing without hard external deadlines – so me.

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RB: why i never write

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HP:  I think these are like the defining traits tbh

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RB: even tho i want/need to be writing

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RB: + procrastinating

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HP:  Comorbidity is the creepiest word

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RB: as described ^^

HP:  Same!

RB: do u medicate for it, may i ask? seems like mindfulness / meditation cld really be helpful

RB:  i had an insane year on citalopram

HP: In America they see it as essential to medicate for it from a v early age but i am like v v v skeptical

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RB: sertraline seemed better

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HP:  I took Prozac for 5 years; it didn’t do much except make me sleepy and a bit ok with shit life, but for ADHD it’s Ritalin or Vyvanse, so treatment with low constant dose of stimulants (*sometimes also something called dopamine blockers, but I don't know the details).

RB: ok; so, like coffee? just on my risky 2nd cup.

HP:  I dont myself want this prescription.

HP:  Am sure mindfulness etc v. good, but i do think body-focused methods best.

RB: ok

HP: I read this Twitter by Erynn Brook (sp?), and she advocates meds but also talks a lot about building in good coping mechanisms like how you organise yrsrlf in space/time in ways that work for u.

RB: yea; more interested in strategy

HP: So yeah strategy v. key.

RB: hey thanks so much, also in as much as i may unconsciously have posited u as gatekeeper. couldn’t have hoped for a more helpful reply.

HP: No worries! It’s good talking to other people about it cos the grand narrative of it is well shaky

HP: One thing i have worked out is that it’s all just emerging now so u can’t really gatekeep it, thank fuck. Glad to be helpful always. Check out Erynn Brook and remember being kind to yourself cos probably u havent been being if u just got to this point.

[time passes]

RB: hey, i'd really like to hear a bit more about your thinking on chronophobia;

it stayed with me as a strong motif.  felt so 'full' when you said it it took me a while to realise i hadn't asked u to describe it.

HP: Yes I would love to see you and talk about all this stuff. I have thoughts tjoughts thought ... Google searching ‘Chronophobia’ brings up this book from MIT about art in the 60s:

https://mitpress.mit.edu/books/chronophobia. It appears to be also a term in use in psychology/self help; is in wiktionary, and appears to mean the obvious: fear of the passing of time. Associations with incarcerated people, particularly, suffering from it and also anyone suffering from heightened stress and anxiety. Searching chronophobia + ADHD, there are plenty of hits, so, again, this seems a well-made connection. I’m also thinking about ‘Chrononormativity’, an idea i was first introduced to by my friend Helen Stuhr Rommereim, and which I think she gets from Elizabeth Freeman (possibly via Lauren Berlant), in relation to ‘queer time’ or a failure to achieve normative milestones in the time allotted, such as maturity, childbearing, marriage. Her paper on this is included in the documentation of a conference about Chris Kraus we both attended in 2013, which is where we met as we were on the same panel. 3

HP: Context in my work right now – all of this to do with ideas about speculation, past/present/future, chance/fate, resistance to goal/plan/target, not knowing what to do.

I’m currently doing some early/cursory research into the mythology of the fates (Ancient Greek and other cultures) as spinners, and thread as line; trying to parse linearity and how it might or might not relate to neurodivergence/neurotypicality. I like lines as a way of following or tracing, and also drawing as well as writing –thinking a lot about the work of Renee Gladman, who is interested in architecture and fiction (prose architectures), and works with drawing and writing and the relation between the two – so, also automatic and asemic writing. I also think a lot about Ariadne’s red thread in the labyrinth, and now that i am trying to learn to spin, how all threads are made of many tiny ones. This trying to spin has grown out of an old durational performance work i have done for years – so, durational performance, as a form, is part of this, maybe, for me. I always like the durational form, as it is more about setting up boundaries in space and then letting time happen than [it is about] existing in linear time. Chronophobia as anxiety about mortality, and control, or volition/agency; or the trace of subjectivity in the world (cf maybe tim ingold). Also, there are two types of time in the classical sense: Kairos (the now) and Chronos (history), or something like that.  None of this is fact-checked, I must say.Tarot cards relating to time are: wheel of fortune, temperance, death, the hanged man.

HP: Not sure i am doing this right, but thought some context to the earlier conversation might be useful for orientation, at the same time as thinking about my own self-diagnosis of ADHD and how it relates to knowledge and action and intention and access. Not sure if you saw this on my Twitter, but I thought it was a very good overview of neurodiversity discourse as it stands: https://www.janinebooth.com/content/two-and-half-cheers-neurodiversity

RB: Thanks. You’re doing this very right, I’d say.  Like somewhere back in the transcript there is a ‘gosh, yea’ of mine which stands in as a marker for the point at which my mind was blown, began to make new neural connections, bathed in a sort of speechless radiant awe for what you said; and this feels the same only more so, galaxy brain in mandelbrot – only grounded in and by your efforts to verbalise it and connect it with your work and that of others. That this is what you’re working on for your doctorate – I am awed and excited to know it. I would really like to be present when you perform.  I’m really impressed by your articulation. I feel such a relieved shock of recognition for chronophobia as you describe it, as something I had begun to acknowledge and articulate internally, but never outside myself, verbally or otherwise; nor had any inkling that it might be tangled up with ADHD ... nor that it is something other people experience or know about, nor that you are working on it in this profound way. I feel less alone and am honoured that you shared this here with us.

RB: Also – ehheh!  I saw today that we both liked this tweet

RB: Another highlight, for me, of today’s feed –

RB: I’m always keen for writers’ writing on technique, scanning in case I find a key there to my own outward articulacy and/or the means to vanquish distraction/avoidance. Just remembered when the poet Lucy Mercer said to me that as a writer, I’m a weaver. I was happy with that then and I am happy with it here, in this context. 4

HP: Hey! This is all so kind of you to say I am sort of overwhelmed. I can't believe i have even been paid for this already, so shout out to that. I made up chronophobia because  i wanted a way to describe my fear of time. I dont think it was really to talk to anyone else about it. I looked it up afterwards when I mentioned it to you I guess i have really let you have it with the inner monologue. I looked it up after I mentioned it to you. I figured that this had, you know, happened before, that other people would already be using this word. And they are. As a sort of intra-post-script, it is important to say that in terms of ADHD I came to this knowledge or understanding after like 12 years working as a private tutor, and without the students I worked with in that time I don’t see how I would have got to this articulation, so immense gratitude and respect to them for the thinking we did together about how thinking and learning work for different people.

HP: I was going to email you and ask for a deadline today but in the end i didn't write any emails because i was just spinning yarn on the wheel. It’s an amazing process learning to do it. Like a truly never-has-to-end embodied action. I think it could be the best way to replace some obsessive Twitter scrolling. My dad totally gets it. He says singing while spinning, that's the thing, he's heard. I learnt how to learn things from him mostly. I think maybe both my folks have ADHD. It’s supposed to be super heritable.

HP: My mum's a doctor. That's maybe where I get the cavalier attitude to discussing stuff like this you are supposed to be an expert to be allowed to think about. I am absolutely not an expert except perhaps of my own experience. Which this is, but but i push it, i know that. tho I don’t want the meds, I absolutely want to stress i am not like totally against meds. Chemicals are fine and good. Like coffee or you know whatever works. I am just in favour of people being given the best possible understanding of any treatment they undergo. I feel like i wanna unwind my own coping mechanisms like manually. Maybe that's a perk of late diagnosis – for me, anyway.

HP: I have to stop now. I am in a park and it’s dark now. I was sitting in the park cos i was an hour early to get a lift from my friend because i was so worried about being late. It’s perfect timing though. If you like sitting in parks watching orange street-lamps through blossom as if they are the sunset like some kinda shook moth. Which I do. And then type super fast into a phone cos you know someone asked.

HP: Thanks xx

RB: <3

RB: Thank you

1 –   https://Twitter.com/danidonovan/status/1100414551932030984

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3 (http://www.metamute.org/editorial/books/you-must-make-your-death-public-collection-texts-and-media-work-chris-kraus )

4 mercer | ˈməːsə | noun British, chiefly historical a dealer in textile fabrics, especially silks, velvets, and other fine materials. (Oxford English Dictionary Version 2.3.0 (203.16.12))