I've been on adhd medication for almost a year now. My doc added zoloft because of my anxiety symptoms and it seems to be helping. I know it's a trial-and-error process to find the right cocktail. And I'm in it to win it. I've noticed the meds helping with certain things and numbing others. I'm still glad to have the help I needed 25 years ago.
Having all of my art supplies in storage is killing me. The divorce is final. I'm feeling more like myself again... I want to be making art. I feel inspired. I feel creative.
I wonder about all the things I was suppressing within myself. What parts of me will bubble to the surface now? It's not that I wasn't making art, or that I didn't feel inspired or creative before, but it feels like a tsunami right now and I feel like I can't do anything about it.
Starting ADHD medication this week has been interesting. I think it's helping, but I'm slightly unsure because this has been the busiest week I've had at work in a long time. We're prepping to move the library to our new building and I can't tell if I'm really focused and getting shit done because I absolutely have to, or if the meds are helping me focus and accomplish all of the things.
In case you lost it - a link to the eSIM donation guide. Even if you feel sick and powerless, you can at least do this. And even if you really, really can't donate, you can always at least share this and remind others.
the lowest tier, which costs 9 dollars, offers a week of connection while the very next, 16 dollars, will provide a full month of contact with the world to someone who desperately needs it. this is not some idle step. an entire month is a huge length of time for people who are displaced, terrified, and isolated.
Being diagnosed with adhd at 44 leaves me feeling a sense of loss and sadness for the version of me that didn't know my brain was different, for the kid me that wasn't supported in the ways that would have helped.
I've known for at least a few years now, but having it confirmed by a professional is really doing a doozy on me. I saw the 13 year old me reflected in my own kid, who was diagnosed this year, too. I wanted to help them more than me, but starting their path to being properly supported opened up my own opportunity to get help.
I know this happens with a lot of parents when their kid gets diagnosed, and I know that a late diagnosis for women is more common now, too.
They're suggesting stimulant based meds for us both, and while I'm nervous about that for my kid, I know it'll help and that we are in the care of some really great people. (Thank the gods for my friend's personal experience and recommendations. Otherwise, I dont know what I would have done). This is a rarity and a privilege. I'm just happy that I can help my kid and show them how to navigate this space with grace, and that brains work differently sometimes.
I still wish that both of us had found help with this path earlier. I've been watching a 48-year-old woman talk about being late diagnosed with Autism and ADHD and the amount of shame and PTSD that comes with living life without the help she needed. There is a lot of shame, like why didn't I do something sooner... I could have done so much more with my life or been a better mother, partner, friend, etc. And there's blame too, like why didn't my own mother seek help for me instead of telling me to pull up my bootstraps, suck it up, or that I'm lazy? Maybe she needed help, too? I'm not going to diagnose her, but she could benefit from seeing a therapist. Everyone can benefit from a little professional help navigating this utterly fucked up world.
But again, I realize it's luck, money, and privilege that allows for that. And I fucking hate it. Especially when I know there are people everywhere that don't even have their basic needs met or are being literally bombed out of existence.
Anyway. This is got me fucked up right now and I'll probably write more about it here. Just a warning, I guess.