#random personal ramble

[painterofhorizons]

.

So. I would have the chance to get adhd creative coaching. The art teacher from my current class is both (obviously a creative and) adhd diagnosed and licensed as an adhd coach. With being unemployed starting next week, I'd have the time. With my current job ending, it would actually be a fucking great time. I wouldn't need an official diagnosis either. It would feel less intimidating than going the official route of getting diagnosed (tbh I'm so scared that they'd be like, nah, you're not adhd, you just suck 🤷) and finding therapy (don't worry, I know the difference between coaching and therapy). I liked her in the art class. The only down sides are

- it's really expensive (I mean it's a very okay normal amount of expensive, but it's a lot of money and see above I'll be unemployed until I find something new and I'll probably earn much less money than before)

- part of me is worried she won't tell me anything I don't already know, so it'll be a wasted hour amount of savings going into this

- and really I'm just chicken. I'm scared. I'll spend half of the time crying. And I feel pretty irreparable.

But then I'm thinking: yeah it's a lot of money but if I wanted to I could afford it. It would suck but I could. And the timing is kinda perfect? And I like her. It's in my area. It's literally like the universe is handing me this opportunity on a silver plate. It feels like I *should* be trying this, for real.

I guess I'll ask her for the pre-chat-for-questions, and then decide.

If anyone wants to encourage me, or has done adhd coaching and wants to share their experience, my pm is open. 💖

[owlnoises]

After writing almost 150k words I ran face first into a (metaphorical) wall. I couldn't get myself to write much of anything for almost an entire year. But I never stopped thinking and plotting and daydreaming. And I'm trying again and actually feeling optimistic for a change.

[bellyvirtues]

being nonbinary VS being a Dom in roleplay scenarios

Like it's just not sexy to be hit with the "harder, parental figure" LMAO

this is genuinely the main reason I like fem terms/nicknames but I am also purposefully a fairly feminine person. I love cute dresses & bows, and also being called Princess or Mistress or Mommy. But then I also get people assuming I'm not dominant bc of how I dress, and I also act pretty cutesy too so it's kind of a switch up when I'm suddenly like 😈 get on your knees. 😈

Despite my affection for medieval fantasy kink spaces and this, I really don't like being called queen 🤔 I know why but still like RIP ig

[vinnyandthephenomena]

i need to trim my bangs. i don’t mind pushing them out my poor baby eyes but i tell myself the curtain bangs look is sabrina core. my hairdressers did say she was giving me sabrina carpenter bangs when i first got them professionally cut LOL. bangs are humbling but i like them

[eeveelutionsforequality]

Humour as a coping mechanism isn't just limited to gallows humour and dark jokes, like, this morning I got the kind of bad news that opens with "Sit down for this and order whatever you want, I'll pay." and I've been doing nothing but flamboyantly cracking silly, crude, ridiculous, and/or immature jokes all day... and honestly so many people have laughed, even people overhearing it and just bursting into hysterics.

Like, I'll defend dark jokes 'til I'm six foot deep, and then I'll climb back out to defend them once more, but while the catharsis and the flipping of the dynamic between you and the situation are beneficial, let's not forget the main benefit to dark jokes, or any jokes... they're fuckin' funny, they make us laugh, and that feels a lot better than feeling shitty.

Seriously, today more than ever it's really been hammered home for me just how important laughter is in hard times - whether it's the person in hard times making the joke or somebody else, it's just super important to have that helping hand.

~ Vape

[misfitwriter]

Random...but I had someone ask me the other day how I'm doing with the holidays coming up (this is my first Christmas officially single since my husband left. Last Christmas I was in limbo of wondering if we were going to get back together). And you know what? It was the first time I'd even considered that aspect of it. I've been too busy updating the new-to-me mobile home I bought into my own little beach cottage and imagining what I might be able to do next after the holidays, and learning how to love myself without thinking I need a boyfriend to "complete" me. That question was so liberating because it showed me that I've actually moved on from my divorce...sure I still want to punch him in the head sometimes because I find out about some new idiotic thing he's done to his wonderful family, but I have become the person he always told me I could never be. I have become someone better DESPITE him. And I have truly come to realize that a guy would be nice, but I am prefectly happy doing my own thing. What an amazing feeling.

[ask-me-to-dance-blog]

I normally workout before my shifts on Friday but seeing as I hurt my knee and can't do any leg or cardio and did upper body yesterday....

No gym

More time to "study" I suppose. 

[misspixiejane]

I keep meaning to write about real things but every single time I open the text box my brain goes blank - not for lack of things to say but because there are so many things going on and not a lot of them are good. Things seemed to have slowed down, at least a little, but I don't know how to talk about them. I don't know how to talk about what I'm feeling right now. A month ago things felt so promising and new and now... now I'm tired all the time and I'd sleep twenty hours a day if I could. 

The one thing that has been weighing really heavily on my mind is the fact that life is so cyclical. When I was sixteen we thought my grandmother was suffering from dementia - turned out she was just addicted to pain killers, and so terrified of the chronic pain that she was over medicating. It took her a long time to sort herself out, for the doctors to sort her out, I lost good years with her because first she was mean because she was high and then she was mean because she wasn't.

I worry my aunts are going down that same road. A year ago I was worried about C.'s inability to recall words. It was more than just momentary slips of the tongue or brain blips. The later in the day it got to be the harder conversations were to have with her. The other night I called because she scared us all half to death and she made no sense on the phone. It was like she was drifting in and out of knowing who I was and what she was doing. 

This is scary for a lot of reasons, but it's most scary because of the moments I catch myself taking an extra Ativan to get through the day, or the fact I find it increasingly hard to sleep without Tylenol Pm or Nyquil. For as long as I can remember I've had an unquiet mind. It isn't something I can just turn off. I worry that this is how it started for my grandmother, for my aunt. 

And then I think I'm overreacting and that it's Tylenol PM and it's not like I take enough to overdose so what is the big damn deal, and why am I such a drama queen?

Then I remember something stupid I did in third grade and want to throw myself in front of a bus. 

I wish I was exaggerating. 

Now I'm going to shut up and try to sleep even though my brain is already trying to pick up on something stupid for me to obsess over until I cry. 

See, this is why I don't write shit down.