The request was for a modern but cozy home with lots of dark wood, white, plants and pink accents because that is their favourite colour. They also wanted a kitchen, bedroom, sitting area, cute loft and a bathroom. The main floor was inspired by sunrooms and greenhouses. The basement was just me messing around with floorplans until I landed on something we both liked.
The basement in particular went through a number of iterations before landing on how it currently is - I wanted to make the basement as cozy and relaxing as I could, with the addition of a small balcony. This build was so fun to work on!
I’ve been playing a lot of botw lately because I’ve finally earned enough money to buy a switch and I’M LOVING IT, so I did this drawing, I hope you like <3
It’s hard to talk about struggling when there is nothing outwardly wrong and there has never been. Am I even struggling or am I just whining? Why can’t I move forward? Why am I stuck?
Lemme summarize and hopefully not ramble too much but this post is for me mainly, soooo, you know. My homelife has been idyllic, happy, I guess. No struggle, nothing traumatic. I’d call it vanilla. Everything was fine. Emotionally, maybe not so much, but growing up is a time of change, right?
I had some body image issues start up in intermediate school, but who doesn’t, honestly? Being a tall and fat female surrounded by petite and cute girls - I felt stupid wanting to be what they were. I shouldn’t be wearing makeup, shopping for skirts and dresses, liking ‘girly’ things, or revealing any bit of my figure. I felt I looked manly. I felt I would be an impostor. I felt that I hated them for having that whatever it was (it’s called confidence, Kristin). It was just better to avoid attention by wearing over-sized shirts and unintentionally ill-fitting jeans. How I ‘felt’ was a lie. Therapy in my early 20s helped with this and I realize now I’m heckin’ cute regardless of what I’m wearing. Oh, and I realized pink is an awesome color. Therapy.. it does help sometimes.
I’ve had some slumps of depression along with a steady stream of ‘eh’-veryday depression. I remember sitting on the playground in 4th grade tracing cracks in the asphalt with a woodchip for ‘fun’ because I had no friends in my class or in my school wing and my teacher wouldn’t let me stay inside to read. It wasn’t fun. That scenario repeated itself in sophomore year high school as none of my friends had a schedule that lined up with mine - not even lunch. We had been together constantly in junior high; to go from that to barely a glimpse of them my first year in a new building was awful (grades 10-12 were at the h.s.). While they ate together, had stories to tell from class, and did group projects together, I was alone. No amount of hanging out on the weekends made me feel like I wasn’t missing out. The following year, I was reunited with them until we graduated, and then all was reasonably well until we went our separate ways yet again.
University started. I tried being a typical college student. I joined some clubs. I did regularly go to my classes. I tried to meet people. I tried to have fun. My hometown friends were doing all these things and more at their schools, why couldn’t I? Eventually, I felt like my being there did not matter one way or the other. Miserable for a variety of reasons, I ended up transferring from one small university to another closer to home. The few people who reached out to me were surprised I was gone - I hadn’t told them as I hadn’t expected them to notice.
I tried again at my new university - joining a bible study, the anime club, and an Asian culture club. I slowly stopped trying. Again, I felt like my presence was negligible and unnecessary, so I withdrew into myself. I whittled my routine down to class, eat, screw around until everyone was asleep, study/work on projects, sleep. I would avoid the school building when I knew my classmates would be there outside of classtime. I even avoided the dining halls and c-stores if I couldn’t be there right when they opened (and were emptiest). I couldn’t focus unless the world was asleep, so working until dawn and beyond became a regular occurrence. I did all I could to avoid others while slowly drudging toward graduation.
Looking back, I can see the depression and anxiety eating at me. They still nip at my heels and make ugly reappearances, but I can mostly deal with them now thanks to therapy my parents forced me into attending due to a post-uni depression slump. The Buproprion I’m on helps some too. I just feel like there is still something more to be dealt with. Something that is still interfering with my life today.
All my life, I’ve been the worst procrastinator. Annoying assignments, enjoyable assignments, I would put them all to the last moment. In Viscom II, we got to design a CD case for our favorite band and I still could not work on it until the night before it was due. I would escape the guilt telling me to work by working on ‘beneficial’ hobbies. Reading is good for my education, so read more instead of working quite yet. Personal artwork was much the same. Why wouldn’t I work on my assignments ahead of time? Maybe it was that I couldn’t. In high school. I vividly recall cleaning the fridge at home top to bottom to prolong working on an essay. I used to blame laziness, but now I think it’s an inability to focus. Self-diagnosing oneself is frowned upon, but I do wonder if I have ADD. Eight paragraphs and I finally get to what I actually wanted to reflect on and ponder! Sorry self and any determined reader for the tangents.
Current me, post-college, working a salaried 7:30-4:30 job, has been having struggles lately. My struggles stem from a worsening ability to focus at work and complete failure to do anything but ‘potato’ at home. I cannot procrastinate my work, certain tasks must be completed within certain time frames or our company faces consequences due to my inaction. However my brain still prefers to focus on every conversation and phone call around me so I can interject with information or a comment (sorry if I’m that annoying person, coworkers). My brain wants to think and talk about different cheesy dishes I desire to try and oh, where to buy Greek cheese to make saganaki. Let’s google that for 10 minutes at 8 in the morning for some reason (that train of thought was this past Thursday). Sometimes my brain gets overloaded listening to all these conversations while the printer is going, the phone is ringing, and someone is trying to get my attention. Sometimes I’m hopping between so many little projects that one more request pushes me to tears.
There are times I want to scream, cry, and run away. None of those are office-appropriate behavior. I feel so wound up by pushing myself through my day that coming down from that at home takes all evening. That is what I call ‘potato-ing’. I zone out to Youtube and Reddit until it’s time to sleep and do it all over. I don’t know how people accomplish anything with their evenings. All I have as far as daily commitments are my job, a loving boyfriend, and two cats and still I do not have the mental energy for a fulfilling evening.
I used to define myself as a reader. I was an artist. I was a gamer. Except for the odd occasion, I don’t do these things anymore. I have a list of books I’ve been meaning to read, but I can’t find the energy to pick them up. I used to have a vivid imagination - much of it stemming from things I’ve read or watched. The source stopped, so I stopped having ideas for what I wanted to draw. I also can’t procrastinate at work, so drawing as a procrastination method is a no-go. I used to have a large list of fandoms I enjoyed, now I couldn’t name any. Some I did outgrow, but mostly, I haven’t been consuming new media because I can’t commit the energy to do so. When I do manage to start a drawing or a new book, I cannot stop. If I stop, I will never finish or go back to it. It is all or nothing.
The only time I feel clear-headed is after everyone has gone to sleep/away and I have had hours to unwind and I am left with perfect solitude. Only then do the inklings of my old pastimes try to make themselves known. Right now, I still don’t usually have the energy to act on them. I’m only able to write this long-ass mess as Joshua has gone to the game shop for the evening. It’s just me, the cats and, the rain outside.
I did do some reading on ADD in women online. The checklist on ADDitude’s site resonates with me a lot and so do posts from redditors on the ADHD subreddit. I feel choked by how much ‘stuff’ I have. Not even close to being a hoarder, but I feel like I can’t keep up or keep these things organized. I shutdown sometimes at work when I feel overloaded. I shutdown sometimes at the grocery store because of the number of bodies and the noise and chaos. I feel like I can’t keep up with what people demand of me, socially and at work. I do start the day wanting to accomplish so much and when I fail because I can’t get the ball rolling, my depression just eats that up.
Writing this all out makes it clearer to me that this is not normal. It is not normal to feel hollow like this. There are things I want to accomplish, but I can never get to them. I can’t get moving. I feel frustrated. I feel sad. I feel stuck.
I, and medical professionals (probably), never considered ADD might be the culprit as, despite being a procrastinator, I always finished my assignments. I can count on one hand the few that I didn’t. I was primarily a straight A student (until college). I didn’t have any obvious focus issues in class. I don’t live in total chaos (probably because my anxiety goes berserk when there is too much clutter). I’m not all over the place, at least on the outside. I look at my sister who does have ADHD and I can very obviously tell when she’s taken her meds or not. These classic symptoms don’t fit me, but the others do.
I’ve addressed the depression and the anxiety and avoidant behaviors (that I didn’t touch on here). This last beast remains to be conquered. If it’s not ADD, it’s something. Something that I can’t handle on my own. I’m going to talk to my primary care when I go in this month. She’ll probably tell me I need to see a psychiatrist again, but this time I think I will take that advice. I’m tired of feeling like this.
Fingers crossed for an answer and hopefully a solution.
mp100 is genuinely one of my favorite pieces of media ever, and i knew we’d be hitting some of my favorite moments this season so every week i did a drawing for each episode on twitter. i’ve never kept up with a show this religiously, i can’t believe we’re done already! i’ll really miss going crazy every monday, it’s been real… catch u on the other side of the broccoli 🙏
