The anti-depressants didn’t work. My doctor told me they think I’m depressed and anxious and I should seek a psychiatrist. My insurance is not the best, so finding someone affordable in my area hasn’t been helpful. Sure I have the option for an online doctor who wants $200 up front and multiple sessions or another doctor who wants $75 per online session, but can’t guarantee how quickly I can be diagnosed.
I never thought I would be here… frustrated knowing something is not right, but not being able to know… I’m forgetful with a lot of things, important things: dates, tasks, people. Even when I’m obsessed with something I can’t retain enough information about it to explain what it is or why I like it to people. I’ve been ridiculed for it for numerous reasons. Made to feel dumb.
I’ve been doing even more research lately. Watching videos from people talk about their mental health, diagnoses, their experiences in general. Everything is leading to ADHD. I know that sounds stupid to just assume, but there are more symptoms than the two things I mentioned that overlap with symptoms of ADHD in real people, not just textbooks.
I’m feeling overwhelmed in my own head because there’s so many things I want to do and I feel like I can’t. I don’t know if I’m looking for validation in my apparent executive dysfunction or an excuse. And I know that sounds dumb, but I am constantly feeling guilty… and that’s a whole mess on its own.
I stopped taking my meds.
I felt good at first, but I think it was because I felt numb. But my jokes about suicide got darker, my friends were getting worried. Then there was an issue with my doctor’s office and the refill was delayed so I said eff it.
I missed writing and being creative. I’ve been feeling that spark again. But with it comes the sadness. My doctor and my friends keep recommending therapy, and while I’m so pro-therapy, I can’t get myself to take my own advice and schedule an appointment. I think it’s because I don’t trust anyone. I tried therapy when I was in middle school or junior high and they told my parents everything I said. I needed help and someone to talk to and instead the told my parents about me trying to kill myself from overdosing and cutting myself in places no one would see and my parents freaked out so I lied. After my parents got divorced, I tried to go again but I was so silent I made everything awkward. I said I was fine and didn’t feel the need to be there.
But my heart is heavy. I have all of my feelings back, my creativity, but no motivation. Or do I hold myself back out of fear of rejection and criticism?
I podcasted, I streamed, I make tiktoks, I write; I’m too inconsistent to make anything out of anything.
I can’t even keep up with my own website/blog. I may disband this eventually.
So, in true one thing after another fashion… I’m now working 60+ hours a week. My brain won’t stop thinking about new story ideas… UNTIL I HAVE TIME TO SIT DOWN AND WRITE.
I also realize again just how awful I am at being social on the internet. Because on one hand I just want to share my writing and I want people to love it, but on the other hand, I’m still terrified someone will steal it. I don’t know why I’m so paranoid, there’s so many fun works floating out there from other amateur writers. I’m sure it’s just my brain being against me.
Also, I’ve been really sad lately because I love Webtoons and I think I could move my stories into Webtoons, but I have no artistic talent or no any artists interest in that medium.
Blech. It’ll be fine. I’m sure.
Bad News: I have 1 brain cell and it’s too exhausted to help me with any kind of story development.
Good News: An adrenaline rush gave me enough of a spark to tack on some cutesy stuff to an already cutesy section.
Bad News: I love smut and IT’S SO HARD thatswhatshesaid not to devolve “Good Enough” into that. I go back and forth because why can’t a bit of smut be okay? People still love Game of Thrones. But then I worry that it’ll be disregarded as a trashy romance novel. But also, I love trashy romance novels and my fanfiction is basically just trashy romance scenes and I love writing them as much as I do reading them so what’s the problem if I enjoy it? Then I think But it won’t be marketable. And then I think 50 Shades of Grey and then I think who the f*** is going to publish me anyway?
So if you couldn’t tell, I’m not super consistent with my updates.
I’ve been extra tired lately. The loss of my grandmother hits me in unexpected waves and I feel a constant looming sadness. Guilt comes to me at random as well. I’m not the best at dealing with trauma. I don’t know how to process it.
Not an excuse, but a reality. I still want to write. I’m continue soon. But I just wanted to vent into the void.
I would check the weather for my grandma when we Skyped. Her location is saved in my weather app. My heart hurts.
Does time actually heal you? Or do you just get use to the circumstance?
There’s a foot of snow on the ground, it’s 30°, but I’m feeling warm inside today.
I keep trying to stave off the “oh god, what’s going to go wrong” thoughts. Doing ok with that so far.
Thinking more and more about how to comfortably share my favorite wip without giving everything away at once. I picked up some ideas from other new authors, so I may just start sharing scene peeks and character info. More on that later. Back to work.
I’m showering once a week. I barely clean. I haven’t brushed my hair in two days. I haven’t worked on any projects in 2 weeks. I feel… sad… all the time. Even when I laugh in crying at the same time. I have no control.
There’s history of mental illness in my family, mania, depression, bipolar. My mom says she thinks I have depression that she knows when I’m feeling low and when I’m feeling normal.
I tell her I’m fine. And then I don’t seek out the professional help like I tell her I’ll do.
Why? Because I don’t feel justified in having these feelings. It’s like a weird middle ground where I’m self aware that this is not normal behavior, the lethargy, the lack of self-care, the constant mood swings and I know which professionals to seek, I know the costs involved. But I won’t make the necessary appointment.
There’s more here that maybe I haven’t self-discovered. But I just needed to vent into the void that is the internet for a moment.
I’ll be fine. I just need another few days.