Being autistic is not being able to read social cues. Misunderstand your relationship with someone. Thinking your friends when you actually aren't and never were. You overstep a boundary and completely ruined any possible changes of an actual fucking connection with someone. But no you had to fuck it all up. Because you're nothing but a gross disgusting fucked up loser failure. Now they hate you and think you're weird and gross and pathetic. You don't even deserve to exist in their presence.
I headcannon that Phineas has meltdowns. He has very BIG feelings and sometimes they're overwhelming. When he was really little he would scream and cry. He thought maybe he'd grow out of it but it still happened when he was 10. Up to that point he did have them less and less but it still happens. When he has a meltdown he'll scream at people and loose speech only talking with one word sentences. At 3-4 he would kick his feet but not so much later.
In my Doof Dad AU in the Second Dimension movie Phineas gets overwhelmed by everything and has a meltdown. Learning his Dad is an Evil Scientist made him panic and something in his child brain snapped in reaction to it. Ferb tried putting a hand on his shoulder because it usually helped but this time Phineas was so overstimulated that he slapped his arm away. After he was able to calm down he apologized to Ferb and felt so guilty about hitting him. Ferb understands that this is just a very very stressful day for him.
He never got punished for having meltdowns his Mom usually just waited it out. When he was 3-4 his Mom taught him how to do deep breaths when he felt his emotions get too big. Instead of kicking he learned to just tense up his body. He will sometimes pull at his hair. His family is generally pretty understanding but he still feels embarrassed that he gets that way. He's usually not able to speak a few minutes after the meltdown and usually will isolate himself and only let Ferb sit quietly next to him
Phineas is generally a very happy person but his ADHD makes it hard to regulate his emotions sometimes. Most people wouldn't even suspect he has anger issues he's just learned how to cope with it.
Why does everyone treat me like this when I’m overstimulated, like I’m just making shit up, like I’m being a problem or someone just throwing a tantrum. I’m genuinely fucking trying, I always try to do my best in school, I only take breaks when I seriously need it when I should be having breaks every day. I do my best to communicate my needs and be a good student, I warn them in advance about the meltdowns and my feelings of being overstimulated and when it actually happens they always treat me like this and it’s so frustrating. It always makes me feel like I’m acting like a baby, like I’m just a nuisance.
Hey all Glumet here. So as you all know I have adhd. Not too severe. Well earlier while I was working on a model and had to get on my other laptop something decided to mess up multiple times. So I had a meltdown after multiple setting resets and it not working at all. I got it fixed blah blah blah
Cut to tonight, Dad asked me to take something up(my hands were full) I nearly had a meltdown again. When I got upstairs out of anger I threw everything. Switch fell on bed and the so card jostled. Minecraft world reset back to a few minutes ago! Then my dogs(who i love) started getting all over me. Another melt down. I started crying got on me again and I could not breathe. Ive been close to squeezing the life out of things and I just want to vent. My friend group is falling apart and im this close to screaming and crying.
Tw: adhd, grammar mistakes, just me having a meltdown
I swear I wanted to keep this blog free from my adhd, because I wished to create a magical place; just me, you- the few people who read my fanfics, existing in harmony and fluff with pink bunnies, unicorns who poop strawberry icecream and we all would happily deny reality... Yeah, I don't even know if I should laugh or cry.
So I just laugh, and cry, and silently hate myself.
And people who idealize adhd. Yes, fck them.
"Oh you must excel at many things, right?"
I DO, but at what cost?? Yeah I'm a fcking polyglot, I have two jobs, a whole circle of friends, I study at school, I study languages constantly, I have 5 billion hobbies, a somewhat healthy relationship, a cat, and three cactii that I managed to keep alive. I just renovated a whole house, because I decided that I don't like the vibe.
Do you know what else I have?
-Trauma
-Constant meltdowns
-Self-hatred vs god complex (Am I the most unworthy human being ever or am I above all? Who knows...probably neither of the two extremes reflects what I really am.)
So juggling between two jobs, school, my hobbies, my social life, my relationship, my other duties, when I have time to relax, I just sit in silence, and rot. Literally. A simple task takes me HOURS, because I have no idea how to start doing it, not because I'm lazy, or because I'm unable to.
I scroll like a brainless zombie, reblogging motivational videos on tiktok, hoping they can motivate me too. Thinking: "Yeah, I can be like that" then I scroll again. Bitterly.
The past few months have become a blur of me sitting in my pajamas (I have days off, because my first job is a part time job, and my other job doesn't require me to go to the office, I only have lessons two times per week) and fighting with my demons. In pajamas.
Sometimes I managed to win, though, most of the times I was conquered by the annoyingly tempting looking couch, where I sat down, and scrolled again. Because it was hard for me to do anything at all. Because simply existing seemed like a hard work.
And by existing in my own sorry-ass self hatred I have lost my spark. No matter the amount of make up I have put on, or the nice dresses I bought, nothing was enough. And I fell into a trap: consumerism. I thought, maybe if I buy this or that I would be happy again, and for a moment I truly was. But then the endorphin or serotonin, or something has faded, and there I was, with debt, and even bigger self hatred.
Yeah, acting impulsively is kind of another negativity attached to adhd. Of course it's not an excuse, more like a funfact.
The biggest problem however is that many people have no idea how adhd can literally change one person. How hard it is to live with billion thoughts flashing through your mind in ONE second.
Sometimes I just sit in the tub, crying because my head is full of thoughts. I can connect EVERYTHING with ANYTHING. One time I was thinking about grading my students' paper and then whoom, billion thoughts like lightning went through my mind, and I couldn't stop them. They were invading my brain.
How I long to be a normal person with normal amount of thoughts!
Many people think adhd is a superpower, because when I'm motivated, or when I don't have a meltdown, I'm fcking invincible. Unstoppable. A machine. I work like there's no tomorrow, I'm happy, cheerful, a fcking sunshine if you will. I radiate so much good energy. But then come the clouds, and I feel miserable again.
I long for dopamine, serotonin, whatever, I long for happiness okay?
Because when I do nothing, yet I have so many thoughts I think "Am I wasting my time? Why can't I move? What keeps me back?"
I don't know the answers.
"Do I deserve happiness?" OF COURSE I DO, so why is my brain keep telling me otherwise?
I would give half of my liver to be neurotypical.
It's like I'm sabotaging myself. I start something, I'm succesfull, and suddenly I get scared, because what if I reach my dream? What happens next?
I'm scared of boredom. I have no idea how to stop fighting, because that's the only thing I really know. I had to fight for the smallest forms of appreciation, I had to fight against my own mind, I still do but anyways.
It's just I wish the person in the mirror would say that "Hey, it's fine, you are worthy of love, you can rest, just start with a small step okay?"
But the person in the mirror is an evil with and I hate her. It's me. I'm the evil witch.
I swear if people would get money for being critical, I would be the richest person alive.
Sometimes I try to laugh at my own misery, so very European of me. Then comes the guilt: "There are people starving, fighting in wars, dying, and you complain because of what? Adhd?" Another very delightful European treasure.
So yeah, so much about this blog being free of my neurodivergency.
I don't know how to finish things, so guess this is it.
Notes: We're pretending that polaroids and pictoboxes are the same thing. Also, ADHD!Wind is something you can pry out of my cold, dead hands.
Wind loved his pictobox. He didn't have the greatest memory for details, so if he wanted to really remember something and make it impossible to forget, then he took a picture of it. Problem solved.
Growing up with an abundance of extra energy and a lack of memory required some work-arounds. He figured that the memory he didn't have had somehow turned into that extra energy somewhere along the way as a baby.
Grandma said that wasn't how kids developed, but it was a good enough explanation for him.
So the pictobox was, understandably, very important to him. It wasn't as important as his sentimental items, like the telescope, or his shield, but it definitely made his life better. He had a system that his Grandma had helped him out with, using a journal and the pictobox and colored pencils to keep his life organized. It didn't work as well traveling around, because it was so much easier to lose his stuff, but everyone knew that the journal, pictobox, and pencils were off-limits.
I had only taken one incident to firmly cement respect for his boundaries, and he was pretty sure that Legend still had a scar from getting bitten after the game of keep-away had gotten out of control.
So he was <i>pretty sure</i> that none of his brothers could possibly be dumb enough to touch any of his things on purpose. Which led to the question of how had his things gone missing?
Well, the how wasn't currently as pressing as the where. He needed to get his things back and then he could figure out who took his stuff and pound some sense into them, provided that he hadn't just lost them from sheer stupidity and absent-mindedness.
This resulted in the messy process he was now completely engrossed in. Searching through the entire camp and trying to go about it methodically.
Everyone else was out and about, leaving him free to lose his mind.
He dug through the laundry pile again, sticking his hands frantically into every pocket and hoping that maybe the pictobox or the pencils had ended up in his pants or something. As he pulled another tunic out of the heap, he could feel his eyes prickling with tears.
He just wanted his things back so he didn't screw things up by forgetting stuff again, but he couldn't remember where he'd put them in the first place!
"Wind?" Hyrule's voice floated through the air uncertainly. "Is something wrong?"
Wind sniffed and swiped the tears away before standing up and turning to face Hyrule. "I… I just lost something."
Hyrule's brows furrowed in concern. "What thing? Your sword, or your telescope?"
Wind shook his head. "No, I– my things, the journal and pictobox and pencils. I can't find them!" His voice got louder and more distressed against his will, the roiling emotions taking over. He buried his face in hands, embarrassed that he was having a meltdown over losing something so <i>inconsequential</i>.
There was a soft crunch of grass, and the calm aura that Hyrule always put off settled next to him. Wind leaned to the side, just letting himself completely flop onto his brother once he made physical contact.
Thin, warm arms wrapped around him, gently rubbing at his shoulders in an attempt to soothe him.
When he finally cried it all out, Hyrule helped him up to wash the tear-stains off his face and resume looking for his things. It still sucked, it still sucked <i>a lot,</i> but at least now he had his brother as back up, and between the two of them he was pretty sure that they'd find his stuff. Even if it did take a while.
