#me on vyvanse is something crazy.

[reverecurrent]

today i went to class, cancelled my old wifi, printed out a label, went to the gym and ran for 30 mins, washed my car, called the DMV, and went to work and also ate something in the process. i’m a weapon.

[nereidprinc3ss]

okay i know this is kind of a specific request but can you do something with professor Spence and uni reader where they get into a spat and argue bc she did something stupid and he gets mad and she’s like “noooo pls don’t be mad i hate when you’re mad at me I’m sorry🥺” bc she literally cannot function knowing she let him down (me with everybody) but he’s like super stubborn and goes all closed up and quiet so that he doesn’t like blow up on her until she finally says like “pls talk to me” and he’s all pissed and like “hell na bitch u crazy!🗣️‼️” but then later he’s like “it’s ok i love u but neva do that shit again ho” then they make up and it’s good again 🎀 ok i explained that so poorly (and comedically if i may) but i hope u get it and pls make it SO DRAMATIC bc I live for drama! like she steals test answers or something or does something that could like get her kicked out of school OR him lose his job 🤔 sigh … idk I’m leaving now. Also i LOOPOOOCE ORRKGOOVI love your fics. Luv em

hey girl (gender neutral) this made me laugh bc genuinely sometimes i write spencer so ooc that is what he sounds like. and i'm not sorry! anyway this is potentially a vyvanse fueled nightmare but i wrote it and i'm posting it MY BLOG MY RULES BITCHESSSS!!!! but genuinely read the content warning LMAO this one got a lil kick to it

warnings/tags: ANGST, HURT/COMFORT, fem!reader, spencer and r get into a for real argument like they're mean to each other, spencer is a lil toxic but its resolved, emotionally neglects reader just for a teeensy second but then he's really nice and sweet again, discussion of his past addic+ion, gets fluffy because i'm not EVIL, gets suggestive at the end bc i am secretly evil.......

a/n: i don't know whats happening. this confuses me just as much as it confuses you. its 3 am in the morning. im gonna post nice happy things soon. Gootbye

“I cannot believe you right now. I don’t even—I don’t even know what to say.” 

“Spencer, you don’t have to say anything. It has nothing to do with you, and I’m not looking for your approval.” 

He looks up from where he’d been rubbing his temples, like you’re a headache, eyebrows raised and lips parted in indignant disbelief. 

“Oh! You’re not looking for my approval? Well thank god for that, because if you were one of my students I would recommend expulsion to the board.” 

“Are you fucking kidding me? I just said I don’t care about your opinion on this, much less your hypothetical opinion from some alternate universe where you have any authority over my education whatsoever.” 

“You distributed an answer key to half of your class! Objectively this is the kind of thing that gets people expelled. I don’t understand how someone so smart could do something so fucking stupid.” 

The words bite more than you were prepared for—but what hurts even more is how much he seems to mean them. In arguments past you’d both said things you didn’t mean, and then would immediately melt into I’m so sorry’s and the fight would resolve itself. Spencer’s clenched jaw and inability to make eye contact with you do not lend themselves to tender apologies. They cannot be attributed to miscommunication. 

You take a step closer to where he’s bracing himself against the countertop, arms crossed defensively in front of your chest. 

“Spencer, I’m sorry. I didn’t think it was such a big deal. People cheat in college all the time.” 

Still no reply. His head shakes so minutely you wonder if you’re imagining it. Panic wells in your chest. 

“Please talk to me. I really hate when you ice me out. I’m sorry, okay? Just... please say something.” 

Finally, his eyes slide to you. They lack the fiery anger of moments ago but there’s not much softness there either. His normally warm gaze now feels too abrasive, too cold and sharp on your bare skin. You're exposed, much too soft for that grating look, and it feels like he can see everything that’s wrong with you. 

“Believe me when I tell you this. I am doing us both a favor by not speaking to you right now.” 

And then he’s leaving the kitchen—nothing but a breeze against your cheek and the sound of a door slamming to prove he was ever there. 

The apartment is silent. You stand in the middle of the kitchen, unsure of what to do next. Spencer very, very rarely gets angry at you to the point of neglect, and you know he’s doing his best with what was modelled for him as a child and his tendency to feel things so deeply it’s nearly disabling; but that doesn’t make it hurt much less. It doesn’t make you feel less abandoned or alone.  

You’re sad, and you’re still pissed, and maybe you’re in just a bit of shock as you robotically move back to your nest of blankets on the couch and resume your schoolwork. What else is there to do? Unless Spencer is right—unless you really are about to get expelled after getting the answer key for an upcoming test from a friend, who then gave it to another friend, and so on. But is that really your fault?  

It’s a struggle to stay focused as your mind keeps drifting back to Spencer in the other room, those cruel words and that cold steely look in his eye that isn’t supposed to ever be aimed at you. It’s not a secret that side of him exists, but it doesn’t belong in this apartment. It’s not something he needs to use against you. He’s supposed to be on your side. But instead, he’d said you should be expelled and essentially called you stupid. And now you’re doing homework for a class at a school you may not even be a student of come Monday. 

---------------------------------------------------

The sound of the office door opening forty-five minutes later spikes your blood pressure and simultaneously makes your heart flutter, because no matter how mad at him you might be, Spencer is still Spencer.  

He comes to stand behind the couch quietly, but you don’t acknowledge him. Maybe your typing gets a bit more aggressive, but aside from that you flat out reject his presence. 

“Can we talk?” 

You let him sweat for a minute as you finish your paragraph. 

“I don’t know, Spencer. Can we? Or are you not done with your temper tantrum?” 

“That is... well deserved,” he sighs, rounding the couch and tapping the bottom of your foot, signaling that he wants you to move your legs. You despise how automatically you comply, pulling your knees to your chest to avoid touching him as he sits next to you. There’s a long moment of silence, in which you resume typing. Spencer scoffs, leaning in slightly to peer at your screen. “Are you doing homework right now? I’m a complete asshole to you and you just... do your homework?"

“What the fuck else was I supposed to do?” you almost-yell, slamming your laptop shut and blinking away potential tears. “The only person I wanted to talk to called me stupid and fucking left!” 

The tears realize their potential once you admit the blunt truth. 

Spencer carefully moves your laptop and pulls you into his arms—and you just let him. There’s not much fight left in you. There wasn’t a lot to begin with. 

“I am so sorry, angel. You’re right, I shouldn’t have done that. I shouldn’t have yelled, I shouldn’t have said what I said, I shouldn’t have walked away. I overreacted.” 

“Yeah, you really did,” you cry, allowing him to run his hand over your hair. “Why did you do that? Why were you so fucking mean?” 

His voice shakes slightly as he responds, betraying his own anxieties, and a new, unwelcome sense of trepidation slithers through your veins. 

“I was wondering that, too. Even as I was saying it, I knew—I knew it wasn’t what I wanted to be saying. And then I was in the other room and I wanted to be out here, and I couldn’t figure out why I wasn’t. But I think I was just scared. Which—I know, doesn’t really make sense, but... I think about when Ethan dropped out of the academy, and ended up doing heroin in New Orleans for three years, and I think about when I almost left the BAU because I was so convinced I’d never get clean that I didn’t even want to anymore, and—and the idea of you losing your education and your direction like that terrified me, probably unreasonably, and I took it out on you. And I’m sorry.” 

“But I’m not like you or Ethan. You don’t have to worry about that. Even if I... even I do get in some sort of disciplinary trouble. That’s a road you don’t have to worry about me going down, ever.” 

He fixes some unseen wrinkle on your shirt.  

“Yeah, but, remember... I used to not be like me or Ethan either. Do you think twelve-year-old Spencer would have ever even considered that of the infinite realities and universes which exist, he was living in one where someday he’d be shooting up in the bathroom at work?” 

“Mm-mm,” you hum, shaking your head and burying your face in Spencer’s shoulder. The sound is more of a plea for him to be less descriptive than an answer to his rhetorical question. It’s still much easier for him to talk about that part of his life than it is for you to have to actually imagine it. You didn’t know him then, but you’ve seen pictures, and you know Spencer now, and it’s... it’s just too much. Too sad. 

“Okay,” he agrees soothingly, still playing with your hair. “I digress. My point is that literally anything is possible, and while it’s not necessarily likely, I more than anyone know that anxiety even over the most improbable of things is never completely unfounded.”  

You sniffle in response, too emotionally and physically exhausted to contribute much to the conversation by this point. Thankfully, Spencer can talk for two. An idiosyncrasy which you love and comes in handy every once in a while. He can play his own devil’s advocate; in this case, you. 

“But that doesn’t mean I get to take it out on you. Ever. I truly, truly, sincerely apologize for that. I never want to hurt you.” 

You let the apology sink into your skin like a salve, soothing every abrasion those earlier words had left in their violent wake. 

After a few minutes, you find the energy to ask a question that might best remain unanswered. 

“Are you still mad at me?” 

He’s quiet for a beat, seemingly contemplative as his fingers trace abstract patterns in a language all his own on your arm. 

“I’m not thrilled. But you were right earlier. It’s not my place to be mad at you for something like that.” 

“Mm... it’s a little bit your place. You’re an actual professor.” 

He chuckles. 

“At an entirely different university.” 

“Thank god,” you laugh. “You and me at the same school would be such an HR clusterfuck.”

While it’s almost a serious matter, the smile in his voice is evident. 

“Yeah... I, uh... try not to think about it.” 

“Okay, but seriously. In your professional opinion. Am I fucked? Like, do I need to prepare an appeal and character witnesses or whatever?” 

Spencer sighs. 

“It was incredibly reckless and irresponsible. You should be ready for disciplinary pushback from the schoolboard if you get caught. That being said... because over sixty of you got a hold of the answer key, I doubt anyone is getting expelled, and even if they did, it would likely only be the TA and the student he gave the key to. It’s my tentative, professional opinion that you’ll probably be fine.” 

You relax slightly, allowing a tension you didn’t realize was there to shed like an old skin. 

“I’m not gonna cheat again,” you promise on an exhale. It’s simply too much risk for too little reward.

Spencer’s response is quiet, and comes much faster than you’d expected. 

“Oh, I know you aren’t. Because if you do, you’re going to have to worry about disciplinary action from me. And I’m not nearly as nice as the dean of your school, darling girl.” 

But something about the way he says it—a thinly veiled threat/promise contrasted by a sweet kiss to your forehead—doesn’t exactly make academic honesty look all that exciting.

[morlock-holmes]

I know I have said this before, but it is crazy to me how much the stimulant manufacturing industry combines the worst traits of both planned economies and capitalism while deftly avoiding any of the advantages either system might confer.

The DEA and FDA have strict regulations in place on the production of ingredients for drugs like Vyvanse and Adderall. Every year they say, "Here's how much of this drug you can produce."

At which point they give the ingredients to private corporations and it is out of their hands entirely.

They cannot:

Do internal audits to see whether manufacturers are operating at capacity;

Reallocate ingredients once they are in manufacturers' hands;

Even really track where supplies of drugs are going particularly

It's amazing how incredibly stupid a system this is.

Also, I am fairly sure that drug scheduling is based entirely on the question of whether people generally enjoy the drug. If it is something that people might take recreationally, it has to be banned or subject to heavy quotas, regardless of the actual harms caused by recreational use *cough cough marijuana*.

[awsugar]

no its crazy that dan confirmed his relationship with phil in his coming out video and people still question it or leave it up to interpretation that they may have broken up since then and they're really just friends because they have never jointly addressed it in present tense. he speaks about them forming their "romantic" (direct quote) relationship in past tense because the ENTIRE video is past tense. the whole thing. he came out, he addressed it, and they don't talk about it in any real way or address it directly because they are the smartest couple of all time and they want to maintain their privacy, they literally wrote the BOOK on letting us into their dynamic and their life (enough to make enough people obsessed with them as a duo that they sold out more than one world tour) while also being extremely private and safeguarding the things that actually mean something to them. and btw when i say people being obsessed with them as a duo we all know i mean obsessed with them as a couple, or at the time obsessed with theorizing and mapping out their history as A COUPLE not just a COUPLE OF JOKESTERS. anyway if you think that dan and phil are exes who then built a house together after 10 years of living together you're delusional luv<3 to the point of homophobia. its clear as day, he said it, and they never addressed it in a serious way again bc they want you to leave them alone.....leave dan and phil alone!!!! i actually think they are living their best lives and no one could do it like them ever again in history unless they were taking a page out of the dan and phil book period!!! apologies i thought i was out and then they brought dapg back and i was helpless to the way it pulled me right back in like the ocean under the moon (a la grammy award winning 1999 hit smooth by santana featuring rob thomas of matchbox twenty) also i stopped taking my vyvanse for months because it had no effect and now i think i need a lower dose and also so sorry to be a phannie on main but statistically it WILL happen again!!! dissertations should actually be written and i would love to discuss cause its actually crazy and im not talking about you 2014 phannies im talking about you 2017->coming out phannies because we know.....it may not be the golden age everyone talks about when they watched dan and phil but it WAS the golden age and i think one day it will be written about extensively in sociology texts....perhaps by me even though i have a never-once-used IT degree and instead run a restaurant...yay.

[omniseurs-blog]

My YouTube comment reposted - mental illness, schizospec, psychosis, ADHD, distrust of doctors, rage/anger vent, loss of childhood, drug use

I was diagnosed with emotional behavioral disorder NOS and ADHD at 4, depression at 10, schizophrenia at 14, changed to schizoaffective bipolar and PTSD at 15. Here's my (and my family's) story.

Before any of my immediate family was born, my paternal great grandpa was... "Quirky", aka delusional and had hallucinations, and my great grandma refused to get him help, because it meant institutionalization or lobotomy. She never told her kids (my paternal grandpa) about it, they simply divorced when the kids were old enough to work. This is still all I will ever know about my great grandpa. My grandpa had his first psychotic break in his 20s or 30s (all I know is my grandma saying he's been insane for a long time, which is why she divorced him) and hid it well enough until his 50s where he was institutionalized and diagnosed "early onset dementia without Alzheimer's features" or something along those lines, he used to call my dad up all the time talking about the mafia and how my mother was poisoning him. My father had his first break in his 20s as well after the birth of my older brother and the death of his brother, but he didn't get treatment until his 30s well after my mother divorced him when I was 3. For a long time I didn't know a single thing about him besides what my mother told me, "he's abusive, he's evil, he's crazy, he's a terrible person" (my mother got diagnosed with BPD recently, so I don't even know if those were lies or not), but one thing she did teach us was that he was schizophrenic.

And then there's me. I was a shy kid, never trusted anybody, didn't play, didn't socialize, took a long time to start speaking, and... Held a very negative view of schizophrenia all the way until I was diagnosed. I was put on ADHD meds at 4, 20mg of adderall, the same age I was diagnosed. I began hallucinating full visible dead and bleeding people because of them and I had paranoia of being followed and watched. My mother did warn the psychiatrist that schizophrenia ran in the family, but my psychiatrist just raised the dose higher, this time 30mg of Ritalin, and put me on risperidone, 5mg... I hallucinated even worse, had crying fits from the delusions, but I was completely and utterly zombified. Why was I zombified on "such a low/starter dose"? Because I was a maybe 60lb F O U R (4) year old. Since the hallucinations and delusions didn't stop, and my mother insisting that I had schizophrenia, the doctor ensured my mother "children can't have schizophrenia" and diagnosed me emotional behavioral disorder NOS, switched me to Vyvanse at 25mg, and switched my risperidone to a common antidepressant I can't remember the name of (Prozac?). Of course, I was perfectly happy then, absolutely off the walls running around, wandering around, all that, so the SCHOOL system said they were going to call CPS because they didn't believe my parents were giving me my medications... Which meant they were the ones dishing out my medications to me and I missed the doses I was supposed to take before bed.

Thankfully, we ended up moving when I turned 10, and the new school never threatened CPS or demanded proof I'm taking my meds, so on my own account, I quit my own meds. I went unmedicated aside from taking a different antidepressant (genuinely can't begin to guess the name) around 12-13. I completely forgot I had any mental illness other than obviously having attention problems, fidgeting more than everyone else, severe anxiety that I thought was normal, and frequent nightmares and bedwetting, and a lack of awareness that I didn't fit in with others (mostly because I didn't have the urge to socialize with anyone). Then... the teenage years hit. My brother was experimenting with dr*gs, weed, LSD, computer duster, m*th, all of the dr*gs that were said to be bad in dare, and I did them too. We got past computer duster and weed, my brother got into worse drugs, new years swung around at 14 and they had some "high quality acid" that turned out to be NBOME, or fake bitter acid that makes even the most mentally stable freak out.

New years 2015, I was 14 years old, we took the fake acid, all 6 of us. People became manifestations of my mental illness, my brother was ADHD, his friends sister was depression, his best friend was anxiety, his best friends gf was PTSD... And his friend was schizophrenia. I was only diagnosed with ADHD, anxiety, and depression. The TV was talking to me, the music was about me, the universe was going to collapse if I made the wrong move. Sure, a bad trip is a bad trip, but the bad trip didn't end after 12, 24, 48 hours, a week, 2 weeks, a month, 5 months, a year, 2 years, 4 years. 4 years is what it took to START recovering, dozens of different combinations of meds, 20 hospitalizations, 4 different hospitals, 3 different states, countless amounts of doctors, and 3, going on 4, disability applications. From 10th to 12th grade, I missed an average of 100 days per year, had a 0.0gpa, and just barely graduated through GED while experiencing active psychosis

What could've been diagnosed at age 4, what I could've been properly medicated for, what didn't take a genius to figure out. 14 to roughly 18 were all a delusional mess, I'm 23 now. I still act like a 14 year old because... I'm still there. I should still be a kid.

[icequeen1371]

4 years ago, I was go go go & stopped my ADHD meds I had been taking for 20 yrs (this ain’t about that tho they were masking this) I was diagnosed with, so far, 28 chronic illnesses, autoimmune disorders/diseases, pain conditions & syndromes. I had to learn how to take care of myself in a whole new way. Rest became aomething to prize rather than push aside. Still don’t know how. Sleep? Insomnia. ADHD? Can’t sit still. I’m learning. I’m trying. It’s hard to learn how to rest your body. So hard. Life gets in the way. Pain gets in the way. Imposter syndrome gets in the way. Boy does it ever. That one really gets you. 4+ year later and that one is still strong. I still haven’t wrapped my mind around the fact that I’m disabled. And when I think I have, I feel like I’m being lazy or giving up. And I know that’s ableist. It’s ingrained and it’s so hard to scrub out of me.

I grew up learning that unless you just got run over by a dump truck, you get you ass up and get moving. Broken leg? Drag it behind you? Lol Throw it over your shoulder lol My Mom would keep going no matter what. You have to strap her down to get her to stop cleaning or cooking or doing something. I’m the same way. ADHD is hereditary. (The autism is from Dad I think.) So now I get to try and figure out how to force myself to wrangle this feeling of a million bees inside a locked metal box to stop buzzing long enough so I can watch a movie or read a book or take a nap without getting so weirded out or uncomfortable that I get up and go dopamine searching. Again. Which keeps me awake. And moving. A sore. And not resting. Ugh.

I only ever took Dexadrine as my med which I’m realizing may have been the wrong med cuz all it did was make me go go go go go even more. It never quieted my mind like so many ppl talk about their meds doing. I’d love to feel that. I mean, if I’m already zipping around the apartment, what if I learn how to ‘harness’ it properly? I don’t want the hyperfocus unless I can turn it to art or something stationary so that’ll have to be something I redirect it to forcefully maybe. But maybe trying Vyvanse might be worth it if it stops the buzzing bees and the loud talking cuz honestly, I’d fxcking cry. 50 years of thinking I was insane.

Then 3 years ago, TikToks come out and ppl are talking about inner monologues that never quit and I was omg that’s me! I thought I was crazy! I never told anyone cuz I figured everyone dealt with it and just no one talked about it, so I never talked about it! But not everyone has this!? It was a lot to realize that ppl got to walk around and NOT have to deal with it and just be blessed with a quiet mind. I was bitterly jealous. I still am when I think about it too much. That why I think taking Vyvanse may be worth it. It can’t hurt right? I take enough meds already which is why I weight taking any new meds seriously. K. I think talking about it like this has made up my mind. I’ll be asking my psych to try putting me on it after the new year so we can see.

Thanks for listening or reading. Even if no one ever reads any of these mile long run on sentences I write sometimes.

[barry2018-2023]

do u wanna hear something crazy tho in my last therapy appointment she told me she does not think I have adhd and in my head I was like ok so all those years I was on Vyvanse i was just ON SPEED? and then today while talking about my depression she was like "I think you might need to be on a stimulant like Vyvanse." FOR MY DEPRESSION. LIKE I SHOULD BE ON SPEED FOR MY DEPRESSION? anyway I wholeheartedly agree I miss Vyvanse so bad like thats my babygirl right there.....

[pitoftheplum]

[Writing Prompt: Sunday Service]

I wake to birdsong and the neighbor's barking dog like I do every morning. Downtown, there's about 10 feet from wall to wall, strangers sardined. I look out my window and see the squirrels bouncing the branches of a neglected orange tree. Half eaten globes hang, shown no mercy, set to start falling once the Santa Anas come knocking. I slept for 10 hours, roughly. No dreams I recall, thankfully. I can't tell what they even mean lately. Roll out of bed to a kink in my neck. Vertebrae in my lower back thunk into place, dramatically shifting. Mattress is too soft, but I needed something quick and cheap. Saying "my room" still makes me a little giddy. Missed having my own space to shut myself in silence and daydream at my ceiling. My son is on the other side of the door, tiny paw shoved under, claws curling. Time for the Feeding. I shuffle to the kitchen. Dump kibble, vyvanse in one hand, water from an old peanut butter jar in the other, and criss cross applesauce on the wood grain laminate flooring. My child looks back to make sure I'm watching, swoops his spine for a mother's hand to smooth, and starts munching and crunching. He doesn't like to eat alone. Even when he had his striped sister to bully around the big enough for both food bowl. Needs mom or dad to tell him "good job" and pat his butt a little. It's sweet in my opinion. I medicate myself for a day of prospective productivity. Stand, stretch, and get moving.

I make a coffee run across the street despite having an espresso machine. Honestly? It's just old and annoying to clean. I'll be the first to admit I prefer my life as much as possible to simply be easy peasy. I stand in a spray of water set to scalding and pee. If you claim you don't ever pee in the shower, you're fucking lying. Lather myself in a vanilla bourbon soap from my local apothecary. Smells absurdly aromatically amazing. I think it's meant for men but I've never really been a gender person. I like what I like and that's that. Think about their tubby tabby shop cat that looks like my cat Bean. Their name is Pepper and they do the same stand-and-grab trick for treats. I chuckled in person but teared up when I strolled out onto University. I miss that sweet and sour thing. All my babies leave me too early. 

Towel off and swipe at the steam and look at my body. I think she looks strong and healthy. This week I walked into the front office and got "Hey skinny minnie! You lose anything else and you'll wither away!" I just laughed awkwardly. Blurted out even more awkwardly "I'm eating", old defensive mentality surfacing from when I really wasn't eating. Which was meant with "Good! Keep it up! You look great!" Smiles and nodding and laughing from the other ladies. I loathe it. 5'5" and 135 with runner's thighs isn't that fucking crazy. They're like 40s-60s with bodies that have borne children. I'm childless and 28. There is no comparison there logically. They ask me what my secret is like I'm trying. I tell them the truth: it's just kind of falling off of me. About 30 pounds since February. At first, the gaping maw of repeated grief. Sudden death, major break-up, and a 5-year fake friendship guillotined. Nowadays I'm thinking my birth control most likely. Hormones are trippy. And a more strict schedule for running to keep my brain from spiraling. I own a scale for the first time in about a decade to keep the skeletor look at bay. Prefer to be stacked, built like a brickhouse, sinfully curvy. Thankfully I stay sexy at any weight thanks to a winning hand in the genetic lottery. Shoutout to my mega babe mommy. Call me skinny if you want but I still got full C's and ass for days. Haters gonna hate. 

Retreat to my lair. I stand in a full length mirror and braid my hair. One side chocolate, one side like a swiss roll, vanilla cream filling. The plum faded already. If you want the vivids to stay stay you need to use like... Splat, and that shit's gnarly. I'm allergic now to permanent black hair dye actually. Slap that on your scalp for long enough and apparently your skin starts revolting. Another lesson learned the hard way. One corner of the mirror holds a butterfly temporary tattoo and a hawk feather pointed skyward and a gently draped faux pearl rosary with a tiny picture of Mother Mary. Pearl is my namesake. Alchemy. The other corner a polaroid of oranges and an inked paw print and a tarot card with a unicorn straddled by a fairy. A dresser with a scanner and a typewriter next door. The typewriter a gift from a friend that now lives in the Netherlands. My first was also a gift, from my mom's mother, 12/13 the first time I met her. Psychopathic narcissist abusive waste of breath bitch that I hope dies slow. My brothers and I plan to piss on her grave. Um, anyways. They wanted me to come and stay with her wife and her for a week over the summer. I don't even have a passport. That shocked her. Clues in conversation that tell me who comes from money and who doesn't. I find I jive more with people that grew up like me- parents bouncing checks until they were banned from the grocery. Just so their kids can eat. This world is sickening. Then my vanity. A little battered now and forever messy. And a pine bookcase resembling a dollhouse my grandpa built lovingly for "Meggy Lou Who". Neither of those my actual names but he could call me whatever he wanted. The last few years he spelled my name like "Magen", I didn't see the point in making a correction. I miss him even though we hardly talked for too too long about anything. Quiet guys. Sitting in silence with him on the bank of a lake. Poles still then tips twitching. His vintage, 70s, mine Walmart, Tasmanian Devil but purple and pink. Slow to set his beer down, then crouching behind, arms wrapping, hand over hand, instructing, "let them fight you a little, tire 'em out", pull up, lower while reeling. Patient, easyyy, easy. Big fat bluegill that had him showing off to the other fisherman and their children/grandchildren, boasting. Me gap toothed and grinning. When he was a kid he and a friend built a raft and sailed the Ohio river for 3 days. He wanted to be just like Huckleberry.

Pull on an off-the-shoulder Tiger Army tee I cut up and a pastel blue pair of shorts, Levi's, always cut-off. They were my mom's. Very 80's. Fit me like a glove, she loves to see me wear them. Growing up I was told I look like my dad a lot, to the infinitesimal irritation of my mom. My hair is rusted golden brown, wavy, and my irises are mostly forest in most light. Widow's peaked and big-nosed and bug-eyed. I do look like him at first sight. Though his hair is darker, walnut to my chestnut. The red in mine is from his grandma, from Ireland but settled in the LB. My mom is champagne/honey blonde, ringlet curls, and hers are more chartreuse. Button-nosed and almond-eyed. But I have her teeth, her sun-speckled freckles, her hands, her shape, her sharp jawline, her snort laugh, one of her dimples, and weirdly similar loopy handwriting. Maybe due to the fact she just always had me plagiarize her signature on the tardy excuses torn from her night school notebooks for my brothers and I during our running-the-yellow-lights mad dash to school car rides.

I fluff my laundry for the second time because I am incapable of doing anything on anything other than my own timeline. Sit down to type. Today's writing exercise? The same as always, an opening of the gates in the dam of my mind. A rushing release of thoughts when the waterline gets too high. Going to church and stepping into confessional and spilling and pouring and bleeding until I again feel light. I don't know who's on the other side. I keep the faith that at the very least they have god on speed dial. If you're reading, hi.

It's been 40 minutes. Today I will both fold my clothes and put them away. Hope you enjoyed this little soirée in my brain. 'Til next time. Love and light and fucking write. Bye! :)

- Practice Makes... Something of Substance

[journalist-jared]

The First Day

I've wanted to start a blog for a while, I'm just petrified of being perceived. So if you're reading this, kindly leave. This is blog is going to document my experience starting ADHD meds, this is Day 1 of Vyvanse. To be honest I didn't notice a drastic change in myself. No palpitations or muscle cramps.

I also want to document my journey as a Game Master for my play group. We just wrapped up Dragon Heist, my second time playing through it. It continues to be a great little module that can really encourage players to engage with their characters, their party members and Waterdeep.

I've wanted to play a game set in Stargate and that's what I plan to do with this opportunity to GM again. I have really fond memories growing up, of watching the show with my father and older sibling. Being older now I can recognise the very obvious problems the show has when it comes to racism, sexism, and how close the show worked with the US Military. But I still like the general premise of the show, a weekly "monster" that a team of soldiers and scientists overcome to save people and advance a war against tyrannical or otherwise genocidal despots.

My friend suggested that Monster of the Week be a good system for playing such a campaign. It has a good framework for general and specific actions that the players can take which allows for lots of improvisation and role play. It also encourages connections between the player characters that a procedural like Stargate needs to get going. The only problem I might encounter is Monster of the Week is geared towards the supernatural procedurals like Buffy and Supernatural, so some modifications might be needed, especially if I can't find a technology based class for the scientist or hacker types.

I've started to read the rulebook and collected the expansion books. So far I'm really encouraged by what I'm reading. I like how customisation is encouraged through the selection of Chosen Moves.

First and easiest thing for me to do to customise the game for Monster of the Week is to simply ad in the Zat Guns and Staff Weapons as options for the player to take. While I was thinking about this I was worrying about how to convert supernatural Moves to be more tech focussed.

I was also thinking about all the things I will need to tell my players in our Session 0 as I don't think any of them are particularly familiar with the show. I managed to distract myself making a list of all these things while reading the about different Hunters. And I couldn't help myself, I fell down a wiki rabbit hole re-familiarising myself with stats like the 1.987,690,320 possible gate addresses, the various factions, allies, and enemies. What I've realised is that the kinds of Supernatural abilities that the Hunters that I've read so far don't need to be re-skinned for Stargate. There's a suprising amount of the supernatural in Stargate, not least of which is just calling any advanced tech magical but The Wraith are straight up psychic and I completely forgot. They also "feed of a person's life force" without the show defining that in any scientific terms.

If something comes up that a player wants to do as magical, they don't need a gadget that does that thing. That player could be on their way to Ascension, a thing that's shown to allow people to do crazy shit like telekinesis and weather manipulation. The show does have a low number of aliens, but if there's something specific that a player has their heart set on, that could be a quirk of that species, even if it's a Human variant. The Show also has Human/Alien hybrids like Teyla and Ford.

As I've been writing this I've started a re-watch of SG1 and I'll probably continue through to Atlantis and Universe again. I've also downloaded Obsidian to use as a note taking instead of my phone's notes app.

I'm going top familiarise myself with it as I transfer my notes from my phone over there and stay up way too late expanding them. I hope I manage to find some restraint so that I don't just end up taking all the time in Session 0 gushing about the show, its cosmology and plots. I also plan on linking everyone to Ladyknightthebrave's excellent retrospective on SG1

[syoish-aot]

Hi, no rush or anything 😁 I was wondering if you know roughly when the next part of I found you too sequel is coming (I love the book soo much) I do know earlier you said you were suffering from writers block and I wanted you to know you shld still take your time and (although I may be one person) I love your work and what your doing is honestly amazing💞💞 (tbh it's rlly impressive writing a whole book I have so many ideas but can't even complete a whole page yet I've got it planned out so what you do is literally unreal😭❤️❤️)

I wish wish wish WISH I had a good idea of when the next part would come out but I honestly have no idea at all!!

My brain is so weird when it comes to---

*sudden realization that I forgot to take my meds this morning* one sec

ANYWAY - like I was saying: because of my ADHD writing is a very "come and go" kinda process for me. I'll have a few weeks of INTENSE motivation for a specific project and then I'll go crazy stupid working on it (which is how I wrote 30k of that fic in a 2 week span) but then in the blink of an eye that motivation is completely gone or switched to another project.

Unfortunately, unless I'm feeling that brain buzzing, vyvanse enhanced, knees weak sensation of extreme hyperfixation - I can't write a single word.

And if I do it's either a) shit or b) I hate it so much that it makes me never want to write again.

All I know is that I will FOR SURE finish the fic eventually!

The only reason I wouldn't is if I jump fandom, which I don't see happening anytime soon (especially because I'm refusing to let myself watch any new shows out of the fear that I'll latch onto something else and my AoT spark will disappear).

I have the rest of the fic planned and the majority of the next chapter already written, but I've kinda shifted my focus to my Jean/OC fic "The Letters She Wrote" since that's where I'm feeling that ADHD motivation right now. Which also explains why I haven't been as active on tumblr (the insta community is more OCxCC inclined, whereas tumblr seems to be more into xreader fics, so I'm normally more active on whichever platform my current hyperfixation project would get the most engagement).

Honestly though, asks like this really motivate me!

Like you already mentioned, I was having some really shit writer's block recently and I couldn't work on ANY of my projects, but then I made a friend on insta who started reading Letters and she was commenting on every chapter, once she caught up with the fic I was so motivated to write that I wrote almost five pages last night between clients at work.

I do write for me and for the sake of getting an idea out of my head and onto the screen, but it's also really validating to know that people enjoy and look forward to the things I work on.

As far as your comment on how you struggle to write, even when you have a plan, my biggest advice is this:

Don't start at the beginning. Start with the scene that you're the most excited for and go from there. The first scene I wrote for I Found You was the scene where Eren and MC are dancing in chapter 8 and then I worked backwards.

[dreamonminecraft]

Im on vyvanse actually /lh

But I wrote 10k in a day well before I was on it

It takes this very intense want, this burning need *need* to tell a story and a loot of stamina. It's a hyperfixation when I hit crazy numbers like that, otherwise I can only do a few thousand a day

And that one comes from practice. It took me years to get there it's not something you just do

So go forth and write, and one day soon you'll reap the rewards of your toils 🫡

I want to write. I think about it constantly. I open the Google doc. I open Twitter. I open reddit. I open Tumblr. I open the Google doc. I open Twitter. I open reddit. I open Tumblr. I open the Google doc. I open Twitter. I open reddit. I open Tumblr. I open the Google doc. I open Twitter. I open reddit. I open Tumblr. And so on.

[blockheadjnr]

>Then I was on testosterone + that messed with the whole sexual amnesia part making me even more confused.

>Anxious nervous system reaction made me blind, nearly deaf with no sense of smell or taste. No sense of touch. Couldn’t feel.

>ppl keep mixing me up with someone I made up

>Top surgery at some point during all of this. Oops. More blood loss.

>after a year off adhd meds, new doctor, on Vyvanse (a diff stimulant). Don’t like it. Now I can’t talk. Now I feel trapped in my head. Now I’m separate? Now I can’t communicate with myself. Now I’m a corpse. Now I can’t draw. Now I don’t listen to music. Now I just stare. My eyes don’t move. No one believes me. What’s he hiding? What’s my problem? No impulse control. Hurting myself. Cutting myself. Punching myself. Please feel something. Please be alive. Why isn’t this working.

>off that med, back on adderall. Painfully bc blood rushing to your head increasingly over a 3-4 month Span when you have facial circulation issues? Sucks! Now I can’t hear due to the constant rumbling and blood pumping.

>Waited for that to level out.

>Then I finally heard music in my head again. I could hear my voice in my head, I could hear his voice again. I could hear confetti boy in my head.

>met up with some friends. He’s starting to get a real shape. Not just a blob.

>I dug up my old laptop. Took awhile to set up. My head hurt constantly. My body hurt constantly. I glued and screwed and hammered a desk together.

>Then I saw him on tv (lol). Confetti boy real. Memories real? Life real? I’m real? What in the fuck. What.

>confetti boy can see me? OH SHIT CONFETTI BOY REAL YES. FUCK YES. I’m only SORT OF CRAZY.

And etc etc time passes and here we are now you fucking jackals

[terminalchaos]

Hiya!

I thought for my second post, I’d do a bit about my symptoms and what lead me to getting my diagnosis. Obviously it’s different for everyone, and I got extremely lucky. So bare that in mind! Warning: I get a bit sweary in this one. I have a lot of feelings about it.

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The city I live in, Melbourne, is officially the most locked-down city in the world in relation to COVID-19. After what has been a fucking exhausting few years, we are well and truly over it at this point. But what I didn’t realise going into the first lockdown (last year at some point) was how much I would suffer, and how badly this whole crock of absolute bullshite would affect me. 

Last year in the first lockdown, I was a full-time university student, working as a medical transcriber and at an acting studio, facilitating workshops with directors, casting directors, etc. This was fine for about 2 weeks. Then everything started to fall apart, very slowly. I stopped going to my lectures and my tutorials. I started asking for extensions, more and more often. I had always been a last-minute student, starting essays on the day they were due, with about 3-5 hours set aside to sit and do the whole thing. Throughout school I do not think I did a single bit of homework on time, unless it was something I genuinely wanted to do. I often just didn’t do it, copped a detention, and moved on with my life. 

This is extremely aggravating to me now, seeing that I was around hundreds of educated adults, and. Not. A. Single. Fucking. One. Either knew I was displaying symptoms of ADHD, or cared enough to try and help me. I don’t know what’s worse. It was simply punish the bad student, who never did their homework, and never studied, and never revised, and always forgot the in-class tests, and always struggled with remembering things. So, I adjusted. I still never did my homework, but I stopped caring about classes. I was rude to teachers who were rude to me, and would snap back at any teacher who didn’t show me the same respect they expected from me.

I was so, so angry.

It was completely unfair. I didn’t know why I was the only person who couldn’t do these basic things, like getting my planner signed after every week. So I resorted back to the things society told me I was: stupid, incompetent, lazy. That lead to a not great mindset, which lasted from the ages of about 13-20. I still struggle with a lot of these things, but in different contexts.

Anyway, the ways I coped at school started to fall apart at university. And they really fell apart with lockdown. Being in my house for 23 hours a day, with incredibly stringent rules, meant my ADHD just pent up. I couldn’t do anything. Not even things I wanted to do, and the pressure of deadlines weren’t enough to prod my brain into action. I just couldn’t do anything.

I figured this wasn’t normal, and one day I saw a post on ADHD in AFAB people. I read through it, and it resonated with me. Odd, I don’t have excess energy. In fact, I would oversleep constantly. Often, 12 hours a night wasn’t enough for me, and I would fall asleep at 2am. Caffeine would put me to sleep! My partner at the time would be on my back about how much I slept, constantly. He didn’t understand my ADHD presentation, which is reasonable, because I didn’t either. He would get irritated because the second I got any money, I wouldn’t save it. I’d buy things. I’d constantly put on weight because I would buy sugary snacks whenever I could. I would say yes to anything that would give me a second of joy.

When you have ADHD, your dopamine is running on empty. So everything you do is to try and boost your dopamine. It leads to a lot of behaviours that people see as irresponsible and reckless, because they can be. But it’s because our brains are screaming out for dopamine hits, however big, however long lasting. Now I know this, and can stop myself before doing these dopamine-seeking behaviours (the medications obviously help).

Reading this post about ADHD, I didn’t immediately do a deep-dive of research. I forgot about it for a while. I remembered my mum telling me when I was young that I “probably had some form of ADD, or something like that” after I spilled my guts about something that had been on my mind. I would start talking, and not stop. More and more of these little pieces started clicking. Then, I started doing actual research. I can’t remember details because, y’know, ADHD. But these symptoms started making sense. Not being able to control my impulses? Check. I am obscenely impulsive. Not being able to keep relationships? Check. Half of my friends from school in England I wanted to keep in contact with, I had completely deserted. Memory issues, not being able to keep a routine, missing deadlines, having slightly “kooky” interests, hyperfocusing, the paralysis I would feel when there were so many things to do, and I just sat in bed for 6 hours doing nothing, not eating.

I sat and cried on my partner’s bed while he comforted me. I cried over the fact I had an answer. I wasn’t stupid. I wasn’t lazy. 

From there, I pursued a diagnosis. This was tricky: I tried three different clinics (one of which lost my referral 4 times! Shout out Alfred Road Clinic lol), and emailed different ADHD psychiatrists like crazy. I got no responses.

6 months after my initial referral, I cried to my family about how frustrating it was, knowing what was wrong with me, knowing there was treatment, but not being able to access it. Imagine how frustrating it is not being able to do anything, knowing there is a way to help, but not having access to it.

Eventually, a few strings were tugged, and I got an appointment in June 2021. July 2021, I was put on Vyvanse 30mg by my psychiatrist.

The first day I took my medication, I sat and did my Korean homework for 2 hours. Then, I sat and cried. I have never concentrated for 2 hours on demand like that.

I was furious, relieved, and incredibly sad for the 23 years I had lost, feeling like my body and mind were two separate entities. Having all these things I wanted to achieve, and achieving none. I learnt so many things were coping mechanisms I used to balance my ADHD brain: trying to be early as possible to avoid being late. Notes on my phone reminding me of everything I need to do. Double checking things three, four times.

All these things I wanted to try, and having tried none. Not being able to exercise as it made me sleepy and I never felt the benefits. Finding certain things unbearable for no reason. Getting in trouble for stupid things just because I couldn’t convince myself the dopamine payoff would be worth it. Having built nearly no skills as a young person because I had no direction. This was compounded by my want to achieve, but feeling that I couldn’t do anything, because this invisible barrier kept me in a snowglobe of my own shame and frustration. All because my stupid fucking brain was too busy trying to get hits of dopamine whenever and wherever it could. 

I thought about how my A Level results would have been different if any of the adults in my life had clocked this when I was 13.

I thought about the things I could have achieved if anyone had thought to investigate just a little further.

I still cry about these things. The me that was prevented from living by ADHD taunts me from another dimension. Cow.

I needed to start to get to know myself without the dopamine addict brain. What I want to achieve, what was now possible, and how to avoid feeling like I will never achieve anything I want to. My main goal is to start having 3 meals a day, something I have never, ever been able to sustainably do. I’m still working on this.

[chuuyas89bottleofpetrus]

IF I WAS IN MARBLE HORNETS (idk I came up with this at like 3AM)

First I would probably be a good friend of Tim’s (because bonding over mental health issues is a GREAT way to make friends and also flannel buddies) and get sucked in because of Brian. Before Alex goes crazy I would be the one to bring all the snacks, painkillers, water bottles whatever the MH cast would need.

But on the other hand AFTER Alex goes crazy... let me tell you he WOULD NOT like me. You thought Tim was a sass lord? Well he is but I would THROW👏HANDS👏! I would try to neuter Alex before he can even fight back.

Anyways I would also be the one who’s like “Did you remember to eat?” “What did I say about drinking water?” “Tim did you remember your appointment?” “Alex did you remember your tapes?”

When everything falls apart I WILL be watching after Tim. This isn’t because I want to get with him or anything or me trying to change the plot, it’s because I know what it feels like to be completely alone. If I can’t do that I’ll probably stick with Jay just in case because well... he’s a dumbass, and even if I do end up being able to watch over Tim I will still be keeping tabs on Jay.

If I end up sticking with Tim y’all KNOW imma bouta be hella defensive around Jay. Tim is trying his best to get better and Jay doesn’t need to be bringing that Alex shit around here. If all else fails (which we know it does), I’ll be the one who helps Tim, tells him it was never his fault, makes sure he knows that he still has someone who loves him (in a platonic way). If Slenderman The Operator tries to recruit me or something, you bet your sweet ass I’ll join him immediately if it means I’ll be able to stay by Tim’s side.

However, just because I am willing to comfort Tim doesn’t mean I‘m going to discourage him from seeing a doctor or take his pills. As someone who also relies on her meds (Vyvanse for ADHD and Prozac for depression, anxiety, and my anger issues) to function and has also been through addiction, I would never be able to live with myself if I didn’t encourage Tim to seek professional help

If I end up sticking with Jay I would be his common sense; Always watching over him and being like “Or you could NOT do that?”

While I would want to push Jay into seeking therapy because of the things he’s seen on the tapes and while investigating, I wouldn’t be able to. He would get institutionalized one way or another and as someone who has also been through that I just... I wouldn’t be able to stand the thought of him being stuck there.

I would do everything I could do stop Alex from causing anymore harm and stick with Jay until the end, even if it meant I got killed in the process. I would probably live because I would try to stay back most of the time and try not to interfere with the plot, but either way I will stick with my friends until the end and either way I will help Tim, even if it means I get killed by Masky.

[whatiwillsay]

hi cam, it’s adhd anon. i have kind of a weird question.

for context - after monday’s appointment, my dad tentatively re-gave his consent for the vyvanse. i’m prescribed 40mg, but since i hadnt taken it in two weeks, i took 30mg on tuesday and 30mg this morning (wednesday).

so, i was feeling really horrible this morning before i took the meds (to the extent that i had a meltdown in front of my dad, and he said that i was so unstable that “hospitalization is a real possibility” lmao). i took the vyvanse 30mg at 9:40am (i had been awake since 4:30am for context). around 10am, i calmed down from all the crying, and until around 4pm, i felt pretty great. like i had an unusually positive mindset and was very happy.

and so, i’m really terrified that that was the “euphoria” thing. like the type of thing that makes people abuse vyvanse for recreation.

the internet didnt have a ton of info, but it did say that euphoria highs usually occur at higher doses (and my 30mg dose is medium-low). plus, i’m pretty sure that this ~sudden happiness~ thing has never happened to me before, even when i was taking 40mg - and it wouldn’t just Happen out of the blue, right?

it’s possible that the stimulation from the vyvanse just made me less tired (i didn’t get a lot of sleep last night), and being less exhausted made me feel better - but would that still be considered a prohibited use of the medicine, since it’s supposed to treat my adhd and not my sleep deprivation?

it’s also possible that i just felt good because i released a lot of pent up emotions from crying. it’s happened before that i’ll feel pretty great after crying - but i don’t think a post-cry happiness has ever lasted more than an hour or so.

i think the vyvanse wore off sometime around 3pm (because my ability to initiate tasks and focus on stuff gradually Disappeared around then), and the happiness gradually subsided around 4pm.

and that’s another issue - i took the vyvanse at 9:40am, and it kicked in sometime around 10:30am, and then it lasted not even 5 hours before wearing off around 3pm. and that’s crazy, bc it’s supposed to last 10 to 12 hours. plus, i ate two meals and a snack between 9:30am and 3pm, and eating is supposed to slow my body’s digestion of the vyvanse, making the dose last longer. (it’s hard to tell how long the vyvanse usually lasts since i only started taking it in may, when school was ending, but i do know that during the school year, i felt like it wore off super quickly too.)

i’m wondering if i’m experiencing an emotional crash from the vyvanse right now, or if i’m just returning to my emotional state from this morning. bc i’m like crying and feeling super anxious as i type this out now, lmao.

idk. this is all just so stressful. it’s like - damned if i do take it (bc i might be experiencing an addictive euphoria, and i’m considered high risk for addiction), and damned if i don’t take it (bc i barely fucking function even when i do take it). i’m just so so terrified of getting addicted, but i also don’t want to banned from taking it and lost something that does help my adhd, especially if it turns out that i’m just being paranoid and it’s not actually euphoria.

and i don’t know how i’m supposed to tell anyone this? bc my dad has already threatened to hospitalize me, and i’m scared of my mom’s reaction, and i don’t have an appointment with the psychiatrist until july 9th bc he’s super busy. also, remember how i said that monday’s appointment was supposed to be about ssris? well my dad spent the whole appointment in a screaming match with the psychiatrist, so we never got around to it, so the july 9th appointment HAS to be about ssris, not vyvanse.

and i feel so guilty for wasting my summer? like, this is my last summer before i’m an adult and have to work a full time job. this is my one opportunity to have free time and enjoy life and fucking get better. but i’m wasting it sitting around being sad and anxious and possibly experiencing an addictive vyvanse euphoria. what the fuck.

sorry this kind of got darker than i expected. i hope you’re doing well cam

stop feeling guilty about how you're spending your summer- that's a second dart and second darts don't help anything!

just try to relax a bit. getting meds adjusted can be a very long process. it does sound like the vyvanse helps you (don't worry about the euphoria that's just the dopamine. since you have ahdh you need help with dopamine.) so just keep working with it. i can't help with your dad but it sounds like he just needs to calm down.

take your meds as prescribed and keep reporting back to your doctor how it's going. and july 9th is only a few days away! it's all gonna be ok ❤️

[chongoblog]

Sir Mr Chongo sir I was wondering how’s this quarantine affecting you? You are music man, does the bonus time help you work or hinder it for bideo gaem related reasons?

Putting this under the cut both because this gets really rambly really quick and also because it gets PRETTY venty and such, and I can imagine that sort of thing isn’t something some people need to see right now (but for anyone worried by this preface, I'm safe)

It’s been.....strange. And I’ve been completely unable to get a solid read on how life is going to be because I haven’t had a holding pattern since this whole thing started. First of all, I’m not sure how well-known this info is, but creating content for the internet is not my full-time job. I’m a software developer for a company that makes slot machines, and I help do some programming and essentially making the game mechanics work together to make the game functional. And before you shout at me because of the ethics of making gambling machines (because I’ve had multiple people do that), all I can say is....yeah, I understand, but it’s a living.

So a couple weeks ago (which feels like months at this point.....lord.....) when the social distancing got started, most people in my office started working from home. I opted not to because historically I’ve been not great at focusing on my job or job-related stuff when I’m at home. Fortunately it was easily justifiable because in our big office building there were only about 5 of us instead of the usual hundred or so. So I spent a week working alone from the office.

That week, we were informed that amidst all this mess (since the company I work for gets steady income via casinos which, spoiler alert, aren’t very popular right now), instead of getting direct pay cuts, we would have a furlough schedule. Essentially, every four weeks, we would have a week where we don’t work and ergo don’t get paid. Kinda like an unemployment free trial.

Right now, I’m in the middle our first furlough week. I’m home under quarantine with nothing but free time. And what kinda sucks is that I was sincerely hoping that I would have this free week to work on one of the big crazy projects I’ve wanted to do for so long, but so far I’ve done nothing but a few small things, like the April Fools Day videos and CPU Kerfuffle Lore Docs, but I guess my brain just....isn’t really making it feel rewarding for some reason. Because ironically there are projects I WANT to work on, but all my productivity and creativity is being pushed elsewhere, which is......frustrating. Like you mention I’m a music man, and I keep thinking “hey now’s my chance to do the thing and make music, you know that thing you love to do?” but every time I open up the software, my brain just stalls out. Same thing for every project I WANT to work on. And I’ve even been taking Vyvanse even though it’s furlough so why can I still not focus? Bleh....

So next week I’m gonna get started on working from home. I’m tempted to try going into the office, since I could probably get away with it? It very much is my job, and there’s probably even LESS people there, but of course I don’t know if they closed it all up yet or not. I’ll probably end up running the setup where I’m working from home and hoping for the best in terms of my level of focus.

Although a lot of what might be getting me so out of focus isn’t the quarantine. It’s just that I’m very stressed. About a whole lot of things. On the day we got assigned furlough, they had to lay off 10% of the company. In a situation like the one we’re in where I work for a company that benefits off of casinos, and the end of a legally enforced quarantine paradoxically gets farther and farther and farther away and yet every date proposed feels too soon, I can’t help but wonder if they’ll stop at just 10%. Not helped by the fact that 3% of all of America filed for unemployment over the last two weeks. And that number grew over time.

And that’s just within my personal situation. Doesn’t take Sherlock Holmes to see that things aren’t going great in the world, so I won’t go into detail on that as to not repeat it all, but things kind of suck. And I’ve made the “mistake” of recently sort of becoming really into politics, which means that every day I just become angrier and angrier or more and more miserable, but ultimately more and more stressed.

And I think maybe that stress may be a part of what’s blocking me up creatively? Maybe? Who knows at this point. I’m ready for this all to be over, and not knowing when that will be is painful. And, once again, so stressful. I’ve had a stress headache every day for the last week, and I rarely got them before. I can’t look away from what’s trending on Twitter because I’d be more insane if I didn’t know what the hell is going on, but everything on there is either politics, fearmongering, or just overall terrible news. Then there are plenty of other personal things to have me stressed out.

But I want to end this on a more positive note. So I will say this much. First of all, this whole mess is showing some of the best in humanity, and it’s putting a spotlight on people that I can call heroes without a drop of irony. Doctors, Nurses, Janitors, Fast Food Workers, Garbage Workers, Postal Service, Grocery Workers, the list goes on and on of people who are doing what they can to help the world in this time of crisis, and they will be rewarded (because if they don’t, there will be enough civil unrest that they take their rewards from those who withhold them). And on a more personal note, all things considered, I’m still in a good position in terms of my job. Our team fills a helpful niche, and our ability to work from home more reliably than others is a good asset at a time like this. And even with furlough cutting my pay somewhat, I still have a good bit in savings if necessary, and we can still cover all of our bills.

The future is looking rough. It’s looking really really rough. And I know I can’t see the future, but I know that we’re going to get through it. A year from now, a changed world will look back on this as a tragedy, but we’ll be with each other as we do it, giving our close friends big hugs.