Adhd really is like… bedroom is slightly messy it would be nice to tidy it some
bedroom is very messy I really should tidy up
bedroom is chaotic I NEED to tidy but my brain says no. Why. Whyyy.
I guess I’ll just have to watch where I step in here for the rest of my life. The mess is everywhere. I’m one with the mess.
A sudden Need to Clean™ makes you get the room looking like some fancy homes magazine cover, and you think “I’ll never ever let it get that bad again, and then…
bedroom is slightly messy (uh oh)
i spend my days waiting. waiting for the water to boil and my tea to be ready. for spring to come back. for more daylight. the oil in the pan to heat up. a “hey i miss you” or “can you help me out for a second?” or “you want to hang out?” text. for my phone to finish charging. for good news. flowers on the table. the next hug. “hey, you got the job!”. waiting for the sun. to set. to rise. to see both. for summer to be around the corner. a good song. a falling star. a text back. i spend my time waiting to be remembered. i spend my time repeating that tomorrow will be better. tomorrow will be better. i spend my days waiting and waiting and waiting. i spend my days waiting unbearably.
five recipes for an exciting life (in my opinion)
spending enough time creating things with your hands (baking, drawing, scrapbooking, doodling, crocheting, journaling and so on)
keeping track of things like pretty skies, milestones, happy memories, appointments you're looking forward to
listening to music that genuinely makes you feel happy and energetic
making a habit of reaching out to people in a way that's comfortable to you (i send my dad songs he might like, my friend sends me monthly life updates)
being kind to all your five senses → like investing in a scented candle or essential oil dispenser or body mist, having a soft blanket or socks (or a soft animal to pet), listening to birdsong or the rain, looking at the sky more often, and having your favorite foods enough times
just thinking of how our meaning or purpose in life is merely to experience. eating an orange segment, hoping for snow, being in love, returning over and over to one painting, stepping outside for the full moon, submersion in water, having a favourite colour, knowing beauty, feeling alone, feeling connected, feeling longing… it is enough.
oh, i am finally old enough to know why my parents took so long to grab their coats. why they would ask us to get ready to go only to sit down for another round of coffee. what would i tell myself, at 10 years old? it’s okay. sit down with them too. take in the extra hour with your friend and her family. when you get home, write down every moment in your diary. one day you will be older and you will be waving goodbye to your best friend, and you will turn the key to start your beat up little car engine, and you will look back over your shoulder. her hair will be blowing in the wind and she will be beautiful and you will be, for a moment, struck by all of it. what you will feel is so wide and nameless that it will engulf you. and you will think of being 14 and kicking her under the table in math every time you wanted to whisper something behind the teacher’s back. you will think about how long the days felt, and how you could hold her hand whenever you wished, but you didn’t. and you will think about all of the people you could have lingered with. and you will wish, more than you have ever felt a wish, that the universe just gave you that - more time to linger. more time to say - i love you. i know i need to leave, but i don’t want to leave you. and when i go, i am leaving a piece of my heart that lingers too.
one more round of coffee. the days are so short, and you are so lovely.
recovery is always the right thing to do. when you heal, you’ll look at things with completely new eyes, and your life will feel softer and calmer like nothing you’ve felt for a long time. you deserve this kind of life. maybe it feels like a million miles away, but you’re already on your way, and you will get there.
kaveh akbar, 'calling a wolf a wolf' // doc luben, 'love letters or suicide notes' // @/nutnoce, tumblr // 'my body's made of crushed little stars', mitski // @/ojibwa, tumblr // 'spring', mary oliver
I leave, I leave— At the end of this story, I walk into the sea and it chooses not to drown me.
— Jihyun Yun, from "The Leaving Season," Some Are Always Hungry
Jane O. Wayne // Kate Jacobs
Certain words can change your brain forever and ever so you do have to be very careful about it.