First of all, I don’t want to hear no sass about me posting after saying I’m leaving Tumblr. It is mostly true. I don’t post here anymore, but I’m using this avenue to communicate something to all the people who still follow me
So anyway, I have colloquially what’s known as ADD, clinically what’s known as Type 2 - Inattentive ADHD…medically speaking it’s all ADHD. There’s no such thing as ADD. I’ve been diagnosed, and re-diagnosed, and diagnosed again, both formally and informally, by a multitude of people. I chose to break my Tumblr silence because for some reason hardly anyone unfollowed me after I stopped posting, and I thought this would be an easy, painless way to contextualize myself to a lot of people all at once.
I have ADHD, and it’s gone largely unnoticed for most of my life, yet for those who have known me for longer it probably makes some things, facets of my personality, or quirks, etc. much more understandable, i.e. constantly loosing my stuff, being frazzled, jittery, reliably late. Sometimes I get disassociated from conversations or my surroundings really quickly and sort of trail off. I’ve noticed that’s offended people or made them feel I was cold or uninterested, which I’m usually not, I’m just floating away on my own little cloud of attention deficit.
I wish I was accurately diagnosed while in the public school system. School was always such a drag for me. Every few years came another go nowhere parent-teacher conference where my parents were told I was brilliant, and insightful, yet disengaged and getting by with sub par grades. My potential became a wobbling pedestal I never felt comfortable propped up on, and deeply shamed when I lost my balance and fell off tumbling away from the expectations of my parents, my teachers, and my friends.
It’s affected me in a lot of ways most people might not understand. Overextending myself, being overly ambitions and juggling half a dozen projects and plans that are all important to me, inevitably loosing control of my own time management and watching all of my ambitions go up in flames, and then succumbing to lowered self esteem and spirals of debilitating guilt and shame…it can be such a headache, and the nature of my condition makes it hard to get out of the overpowering swells of those spirals.
I’m going to start medically treating this though. I’m waiting for my insurance company to approve my psychiatrist, and then hopefully I’m going to see him for the first time this week. My plan is to treat this with low dose medication and coupling it with therapy. A lot of people just throw pills at a problem like this, but I have a level headed outlook on it all. I want to initially treat with medication, then ween off that and continue with the therapy. I’ve heard medication (especially in terms of ADHD) described as a means of clearing out the storm clouds in your mind so you can look straight ahead with your vision unimpeded. Therapy teaches you strategies to keep those storm clouds at bay and out of your line of sight once you’re no longer taking medication. It’s a beautiful sentiment and it gives me encouragement.
I’ve also heard plenty of stories of people for whom medication was not an enjoyable experience. I’m a little apprehensive about it all but taking proactive steps to deal with this is something I’ve been wanting to do for…over half a year now. I’m trying to remain focused and upbeat about it.
Thanks for reading. We now return to this station’s continued silence.
For a number of reasons. I don’t really feel obligated to list them, or write out a long winded essay on what has me fed up, or disinterested, or exhausted, but even if I managed to write such a thing it would probably sound like recycled points I’ve already made in other posts, or in conversations we’ve had in person.
To put it plainly, force fed processing of media is dizzying and tiresome, I’m loosing focus on what my actual interests are anymore, social issues and politics are stimulating but I feel like most conversations devolve into social justice bullies finger pointing and flexing their internet muscles and I’m so not interested in that, I don’t feel like a real person, I feel like I don’t interact with people on a personal level anymore and I think the way tumblr disseminates information assists in this electronic disassociation I feel afflicted by. Also that’s just it, tumblr’s main asset seems to be the dissemination of information in a convenient manor, but I feel like I can find the same information directly at it’s source on my own terms. I question what it is I loose when convenience is gained. I don’t know how much I care about anything anymore.
We trade knowledge of current events like baseball cards.
If you wanna stay in touch message me your e-mail address, phone #, or mailing address, or something, and we can stay in contact that way. Though this tumblr isn’t all that personal, and I mainly only follow people I know in real life, so I don’t really expect much out of this internet exodus.
I’ll stop being active on this account by the end of the upcoming week.
On the morning of July 25th, 2012, my life was turned upside down in a matter of hours. FBI agents from around Washington and Oregon and Joint Terrorism Task Force agents from Washington busted down the front door of my house with a battering ram, handcuffed my house mates and me at gunpoint, and…
Above is a statement from Leah-Lynn Plante, reblogged from her tumblr. Leah is an anarchist being subpoenaed and re-subpoenaed for her lack of cooperation with a Grand Jury investigation inquiring about property destruction during actions at a May Day protest in Seattle. She could likely face jail time like her fellow resister Matt Duran.
Read this. Don’t just scroll past it. Click the through link and read it. It’s important.
Drug abuse, particularly alcohol (but really most anything that isn’t marijuana because I don’t actively think of marijuana as a drug) is absolutely a trigger of mine. I’ve been burned by a lot of people who put more faith in their dependencies than they do in my friendship. I’ve been scorned and manipulated by opiate addicts who stole and sold my possessions for their own financial gain. I’ve been verbally abused and emotionally scarred by people who I let get too close to me who had way too much to drink. I’ve relied too heavily on people whose only interest is distorting their boring reality, and so how are we to do or make anything better if a preferable option is dimming the lights and turning off our brains?
I’ve also been through something called secondary trauma, which is defined as is "the stress resulting from helping or wanting to help a traumatized or suffering person." It’s very real and serious, and I’ve gone through this with multiple people in multiple stages of my life, and the pains of those experiences still resonate into my life today. It usually involves projecting the suffering person’s problems onto yourself, enduring emotional abuse, manipulation, & dependency, and feeling guilt for not being able to cure them of their affliction. A lot of therapists fall victim to it when they forge too personal of a connection with their patients. That’s why professional help is so important, and why if you’re going through something intense and painful you can’t simply rely on friends & family, because you’ll end up hurting them.
These wounds run deeper than the surface and I’m only barely acknowledging that they exist and are in fact still open and bleeding. They manifest themselves in unfortunate ways…like me being generally uncomfortable around people drinking, period. I like alcohol. I like drinking with people I trust. I even like getting drunk every once and awhile, but party scenarios almost always make me feel anxious and jittery, because I know people in their sloppy demeanors and glazed over eyes don’t, and can’t care about my boundaries or my insecurities (or anyone else’s for that matter) because they can only barely be aware of them. They can do or say anything, and change dramatically at the drop of a hat. It’s not a judgmental high and mighty thing. I see nothing wrong with inebriation It’s abuse that makes me uneasy.
I’ve also had to break up enough wasted sexual advances, or dealt with the aftermath, that I’m all to aware of how consent can be obliterated when drugs are present. The people involved can say a thousand times, “Yes! Yes! Yes!” and still their consent isn’t guaranteed because it’s near impossible to gauge how gone they really are. Every time I’ve been pursued by a drunk person it’s made me feel incredibly uneasy. I don’t think I’ve had inebriated sex in a really long time, and part of me is bummed out by this because drunk sex can be really fun when your inhibitions completely dissolved, and high sex can be damn near spiritual, but I get in a headspace in which it’s difficult to settle down because I’ve been burned by drug culture so repeatedly.
I’m not talking to or addressing anyone specifically, especially anyone who reads my tumblr, but it’s interesting to think about how we process information and what that does to our emotional well being, especially with social media as a format largely replacing face to face interaction (which is probably the worst thing to happen to our civilization since the Manhatten project). This is a topic close to my heart, and something I talk about a lot. Being force-fed the thoughts, feelings, pictures, opinions of others can be a jarring experience.
Someone once close to me told me that communication is 20% verbal, but 80% body language. He told me to not discount the significance of the ways our bodies talk to each other without saying a word. This is why long distance relationships are hard. This is why social media is inherently an alienating form of communication…if used to replace person to person interaction all together.