The Neurodivergent LIfe
It’s funny how easily we get sucked down the rabbit hole.
With a mountain of tasks and things I want to get done, I always end up wasting time on various social media platforms. Easily distracted. Easily trapped by the quick hits of dopamine.
I meant to have a few blog posts done each week. I even had an idea of what I wanted to post, however, I never did it. Perhaps it’s the fear of failing again causing me to procrastinate, or perhaps I’m just really that easily distracted.
ADHD is not something I’ve completely come to terms with. It’s hard for me to truly understand what it’s like to not have this particular way of thinking. To me, bouncing around from one thing to the next and delicately juggling all of it is the norm. It honestly wasn’t until I was in my freshman year of college, awake at 5:30am desperately trying to finish an essay due for a class that morning that I realized I had a problem. (My mind also runs off of run on sentences.)
The ADHD diagnosis I received back in 2009 gave me some sense of relief. I finally understood why I couldn’t do the same things others could. At the same time, it also made me wonder if others could see my flaws too. This was, by definition, a mental disorder after all. But eventually, I accepted that this was a part of who I was, and even though medication would help me behave like everyone else, it made me rather dull.
It hasn’t been until the last few years that I’ve really started to understand the overall impact of this neurodivergent way of life and how it impacts me in others ways. Time is not my friend, that’s for sure. I see that show up in my birth chart too (Neptune exactly conjunct Saturn in my 1st house). Sensitivity in many regards is a big one - my texture aversion with foods, my disdain for scratchy clothing, but also my ability to sense energy and emotions in others. This feels like it has definitely contributed to my anxiety.
My therapist told me that ADHD and anxiety went hand in hand. I know I suffer from a lot of anxiety. My bodybuilding experience was quite telling of that, but there are also some gifts within that according to her. Creativity is a gift. So why do I feel like I’m not very creative? Perhaps that stint of time when I was medicated?
I like to picture my anxiety as the little character from Inside Out 2. It seems much cuter and less mischievous. Sometimes when I feel my heart start to race and the anxiety start to build, I like to close my eyes, picture Anxiety, and gently calm her down.
"Thank you for trying to keep me safe. I will be just fine. All is well.”
Perhaps from now on, when the anxiety becomes too overwhelming, I focus my energy toward something creative. Like writing, or creating a reel, or cooking, or playing with my 2 year old. Lord I hope he doesn’t become quite as much of an anxious mess as I have experienced. I see the neurodivergent traits already starting to come out with him. Yesterday he cried about his sleeves being bunched up underneath his jacket (something that also drives me absolutely nuts but apparently doesn’t bother my husband - I thought everyone disliked that!).
In any case, this is my life and I’m going to learn how to live with it in a world that may not completely understand.
