#i know it's an adhd thing for me. when you're having a bad time but you don't know WHY and then five hours later you're like oh fuck

[freakwiththeknifecollection]

Depression is literally so embarrassing because it forces you to have confrontations like "so you know that thing that's normally no problem at all for me? Well it's genuinely upsetting me" and then have to have a whole Discussion where you have to be like "no I know it usually doesn't bother me and is very normal but I'm ✨️fragile✨️ right now because of the horrors and situations" and feel uncomfy and vulnerable and stupid about it

[volivolition]

[guy with chronic pain voice] i should draw pain threshold

[chillllii]

when the audhd is fun until you become "i really really really have to give my input/side/idea and i dont give a fuck who's talking or what everyone was initially talking about" and before this site's illiteracy kicks in i'm certain we're all guilty of this to some extent

[essektheylyss]

I am TIRED of hearing the whole "there is NO reason a paragraph shouldn't be more than four lines" writing critique. If Ursula Le Guin can write an asshole psychiatrist monologuing for a page and a half straight, it is FINE, actually.

You can have characters monologue, you can have a long bit of description, you can give exposition in chunks—the issue is when there's no PURPOSE to it and it's treated as a prerequisite dump of information rather than a curated telling.

As long as you're making choices about language and what is being conveyed so that it's relevant and matches the style, it's fine.

[scarletcomet]

i am so normal and not mentally ill at all

[licorishh]

"Everyone's a little ADHD"

you should throw your cup full of water directly on the electrical socket and you should stick a fork in it and you should go run over to that stranger and kiss them cause hey you've never done that before and you should shout a curse word at the top of your lungs just to see what that person over there would do if you did and you should grab that butter knife you just put in the drawer and as a test to see if it'd work as well as a steak knife you should poke yourself in the shoulder would that feel funny? maybe i don't know now run away from home even if you have a great relationship with your parents tie yourself to a tree and wait and see if someone will notice you're gone snap your phone in half purposefully try to hyperextend your knee you've done it before and it didn't hurt that bad so why would it hurt to do it again? everyone is watching you it's so loud it's so bright you want to strangle that person over there because they're chewing too loudly and that light is flickering and your head is splitting open and if someone looks at you again you're gonna start crying but you're in a class you can't run out of the room you're stuck you're stuck you're trapped wait what did the teacher say? you missed that when was the due date she didn't write it down now you don't know what you need the bell is ringing the class is over the teacher is busy with other students you're still sitting here you're wasting time the next class is starting soon wait was there homework? probably not you would've written it down if there were so you can leave now you home you're tired wait did you eat lunch? no you didn't have time you're starving you make yourself a sandwich hey you should throw your cup of water directly on the electrical socket and you should stick a fork in it and you should throw your sandwich on the floor so you have to remake it again or you could leave it there and let the dog eat it even though you know it would make him incredibly sick wait your mom is calling you you forgot to do the dishes ok stop making the sandwich do the dishes finish the dishes check your phone oh that artist posted! scroll through pinterest an hour goes by you forgot to eat the meat and cheese are still out and they're probably spoiled you put them back in the fridge and hope your parents won't notice and now it's time to go to bed and your head hits the pillow and you drift off to sleep and morning comes and it happens again and again and again.

But sure, "Everyone's a little ADHD."

[brailsthesmolgurl]

"It's priced reasonably..."

Preview: The boys' reactions to you buying things on impulse/on a discount! (Let's be fair, we all know they are all rich af, but I personally wanna give it a slice of life touch for them <3)

SYLUS

The big man you call your boyfriend stares at you when you stepped in through the front door with multiple bags loaded in your small palms. You had told him earlier on that you were going for window shopping and he was all too kind to give you his card and to ask you to use whenever you seem fit. However, coming over a huge discount on groceries are rare hence you had decided to use it as you 'deem it fit'. Sylus did noticed his phone's notifications going off a couple of times to alert him about transactions made on his card.

Instead of him looking at it, he would just mute the notifications and continue his humming while he seats himself comfortably on the couch and watches the news broadcast. "You had fun shopping, kitten?" He smirked, walking over to you to help you with the bags. "Next time, bring me along. I would like to see how my kitten makes good use of my card." Yet, you apologised for having to use his card when you told him you were supposedly going for window shopping but the man laughed in response, finding your apology to be adorable. "No more apologies kitten for I am not a stingy man."

RAFAYEL

Whilst on a shopping trip with Rafayel, this man would splurge on you. Apparently in this case, he would take up the role of the impulsive buyer rather than you. You eyeing something for more than 3 seconds? Considered it bought. You mentioning about something more than 3 times? Considered it purchased. You imagining something that may look good on him? Considered it a done deal. This man has no fear nor worry of ever going bankrupt as long as you're satisfied.

Staring at the huge lorry outside of his mansion, unloading everything you had mentioned would definitely put you in a state of shocked. Your boyfriend would approach you casually, wrapping his arm around your waist and nuzzling his nose against your neck. You would definitely question him on his purchasing behaviour but he would pout. "Gift giving and impulse buying goes hand in hand, and I do not see the reason why I should not be spoiling my cutie." Seeing you smile, he would continue. "It is just one of the ways I can show you that I love you, so don't hold me back on that, yeah?"

XAVIER

Grocery shopping with Xavier would be like going on a hunt for rare breeds of wanderers. Anything that are on discount would not be missed, especially with both of your sharp eyesights. However, you and Xavier are not known to be impulsive buyers. More like calculative buyers, the both of you seemingly carry a bit of a girl math's mentality. Other than necessities, anything that is supplemental to the house would be assessed for its usability and longevity. It is a perk the both of you would sometimes fight or bond over.

But if the discount is worth the product, then none of you would get it on the spot. You would have your moments where you would get something out of the blue, without running through your usual girl-math calculations, and you would be met with the quirk of an eyebrow from your boyfriend. "I suppose we lack this in our house." He would secretly do the math in his head but would never say anything to intentionally make you feel bad. "Yeah, we can make this work, no worries." Then, he would pull the same stunt as you, showing you something that he had got out of the blue as well.

ZAYNE

You would give Zayne a headache sometimes. Your childlike curiousity for interesting and new items would prompt Zayne to take on the role of a father figure. He might sometimes go as far as to suspect you may have a slight hint of ADHD in your system, but other than a slight migraine, he finds the quirk in you to be specifically unique to you. And, he never complains. Being the gentleman he is, he accepts you for who you are and tries to work his way around you whenever he could manage.

"Do you think you really need that?" He would point at the stuffed toys you are holding in your arms. Your point being all of them are begging you to adopt them with their big googly eyes. "Y/n, you might just have to pick one for adoption." Your slack-jawed expression would make him sigh and pinch the bridge of his nose slightly before he serves you a reminder of the consequences for your behaviour. "You had adopted exactly 36 plushies, and now, only 5 of them are actually adopted on your bed, while the rest of them are abandoned in your closet. So y/n, which one do you plan to ACTUALLY adopt now hmm?"

[inkskinned]

i love my therapist but i hate being in therapy. 10 minutes before my appointment, i'm in a meeting with my boss - we discuss my artistic choices; my boss recommends i artistically choose less. 10 minutes after therapy, i wash my hair and think about everything that was said, and then i have to switch it off, like a lamp, and go back to work again.

i was on a walk the other day and someone had the perfect combination of his cologne and whatever-else. it was almost exactly his scent. i fucking hate that. after all these years, i remember that? i tell my therapist - i feel like a fucking wolf. try telling a middle-aged blonde lady. oh i scented him on the air. i'm 30, and i'm having a panic attack over something that would be a plotline in the omegaverse.

what they don't tell you about mental illness is that if you are lucky enough to survive it into adulthood; it becomes a weird slice of your life. because you do, eventually, have to build a life. i realized in a panic somewhere around 22 - oh. i don't know what i'm fucking doing, because i always assumed i'd just go ahead and die. i didn't die, and i'm grateful for that, and i'm very happy about that choice. but it does mean that i am an adult in an apartment, living with my conditions side-by-side like. oh, that's my roommate, adhd. ignore the glass, bytheway, that's ocd.

so you pick your stupid life up by the scruff of the neck and you're, like glad for it (so much laughter and light and friends you would have never thought possible, when you were in the worst of it). but it feels so strange to be dancing around these odd little microcosms, these patchwork moments of your symptoms. if you have a panic attack at night, you still need to wake up and walk the dog in the morning. if your depression is making everything boring, well, you don't have any sick days left, and a job's not really supposed to be that exciting anyway. your ocd tears out each individual leg hair, and then, an hour later, you sigh, patch up the bloody bits, and go get dinner with friends. and the life is kitten-quiet, mewling and pathetic, but it's also like - it's yours, so you're fond of it.

and it's like - you're real. so you still enjoy pushing the shopping cart really fast and then riding on the back of it down an empty aisle. and you're not, like, so sick anymore that when you accidentally drop a mug you burst into tears (except for the days you do that. which are bad). and no, you're not allowed around certain items anymore. oops! but you've learned to be good about brushing your teeth most days of the week. and yeah sometimes in the middle of the day you have a little freak-out about how fucking unfair it all is, how fucking hard, how other people can just do this without having to fucking hurt the whole time. and then you sigh and force yourself to sit down and fucking journal about it so you can tell the nice middle-aged blonde woman yeah i had a hard day but i practiced grounding. you still sometimes want to burst out of your own skin, but you force yourself to eat kind-of healthy and to take your vitamins. you let yourself chop off all your hair in the sink in a dramatic poetry of control and relief - and you also have developed good hobbies that help you move your body more frequently. you feel helplessly behind, lost in the shuffle - but you also practice gratitude, taking stock of what you have garnered. because you're trying. even if you're never gonna be normal, you have something... close enough.

and the little kitten of your life, this mangy, starlit tigercub, this thing you expected to rot so young: in your arms, it turns itself over, belly-up. exposing this new soft part, all the organs and guts. like it's saying i trust you now. you won't give me up.

[comicaurora]

Hey, sorry if you’ve been asked this before, but I have ADHD and I’ve been following your comic for years and just now have started to write my own comic (partially because you really inspired me). But I’m really struggling with staying on the project even when it’s boring and getting myself to work on it in the first place. Do you have any tips on how to keep your brain invested or just to make yourself do the work at all?

I have excellent news, I literally just figured out something really important about this.

So when you're an ADHD kiddo or otherwise have difficulty staying on task in a structured environment where Task is the Priority, the main way people try to MAKE you stay on task is by removing your access to anything that is not The Task. No phone, no TV, no doodling, no going outside, etc. In practice, this just makes us miserable because it takes the boredom that's always simmering around a 2 or 3 and cranks it all the way up to 11. In the same way that you would have difficulty staying on task if you were in physical pain, this crushing existential monotony makes it very difficult to work. The work might get done simply because you have no other options, but it will not be done quickly or well, and it will take a while to recover from how much it hurt.

What I realized earlier this week is I caught myself doing this to myself. I had 42 pages of background colors to do, and I thought to myself "this sounds really tedious, but I suppose I have nothing better I can do." And I realized what I'd just thought, and got very alarmed.

Because back when I was an ADHD kiddo imprisoned by school scheduling and a million little factors that keep children immobile and restrained, I couldn't stop thinking about how big and exciting the world was, and how much I wanted to be anywhere but here. When I was feeling really crushed in I'd pick a random spot on the maps on my wall and just imagine being there instead of my bedroom. This was the impetus behind almost all of my creative energy. I've said it before - anything is a prison if you can't leave, and being in a prison makes it easy to imagine how amazing things could be outside of it. Aurora's initial worldbuilding was forged in the crucible of fifth grade misery. My enthusiasm for art and my creative drive are inextricable from my sense of wonder and yearning for excitement in the real world. Not escapism, but appreciation. Wonders unimaginable are out there, and I gain just as much joy seeking them out as I do conjuring them up in my head and sharing them with all of you.

So now that I'm a grown-up with actual freedom in every way I've been able to get, the idea that I was staying on task by making myself believe the world was small and not worth seeing was extremely alarming. It could keep me on task for an afternoon, but at the cost of slowly extinguishing the thing that made me want to make art in the first place - the hunger to experience and draw inspiration from all the myriad complexities in the world.

So what I've been doing is I've been purposefully and intentionally taking excursions whenever I catch myself thinking "I could take a break but it wouldn't be worth it, it's the same outdoors as always, I'll be uncomfy and unproductive and tired." Because that is never true. Every time I've put down the stylus and gone out, I've been renewed in one way or another, and when I come back to comfort fully recharged I get a lot of shit done. Because it is easier to work on anything if you remember why you wanted to make it in the first place, and it is self-defeating misery to just lock yourself in with it and tell yourself you're a bad person if you can't get it done.

I honestly don't know how widely applicable this is. I have worse wanderlust than anyone I know, so for me this has always been modeled as imprisonment vs freedom. I've also been extremely lucky to find myself in a profession that lets me set my own pace on literally everything I do. But I genuinely believe that when it comes to making art with ADHD, you need to give yourself freedom to move laterally, not just in the direction of obvious forward progress. We don't think linearly in any other part of our lives - art is no different.

[ms-demeanor]

how do you do so much stuff? genuinely. I have 50 prjects lying around and I'm doing none of them, I have 50 more I want to start but I'm not even getting the materials together. All I do is be tired and play video game (if I'm not mindlessly staring off into space). I'll get one or two things i want/need to do done per day, which feels like. not a lot tbh. Asking usually gets me a "get your shit together" which isnt helpful. I dont know how. If it was that easy I wouldn't be having this problem now would I. Anyway, hope you're having a good day or it gets better & thanks.

I have completely unmanaged adhd and no fewer than 30 background projects churning at all times that i use to procrastinate from unpleasant tasks and without someone here to tell me "hey wait you're going to hurt your back, chill out and let's go get some food" there's nothing stopping me from sharkmoding myself into exhaustion. This level of productivity is much more of a cry for help than a good use of my time but if I rearrange the entire bedroom and regrout the shower I don't get bored and I don't have to feel bad about not picking up dog poop in the yard.

Also i keep a list of "projects that i should get around to at some point" so when I find myself antsy and restless I can pick something from the list and work on it. That's my one genuinely helpful piece of advice here - put your to-dos or want-tos on a list so you don't forget that you thought this would be a good thing to do at some point, and it can help you to kick-start an activity sometimes if it's on a list.

But yeah i played color water sorter on my phone for four hours on Tuesday night while I was desperately mentally screaming at myself to get up and eat something with zero success (i fell asleep on the couch with the phone in my hand and woke up at three to make two grilled peanut butter and jelly sandwiches instead of the pasta I'd planned on).

Getting one thing done a day instead of getting 20 things done in a frenzy is the much healthier option for me if i can pull it off, and getting one or two things done per day *is* a lot, so i commend you for it.

And thanks! I am forcing myself to make some tea and eat some protein and that will probably help.

[alessiasfreckles]

not good, not bad, just different (leah williamson x ADHD!reader)

disclaimer: this is based off of my personal experience of ADHD. this is in no way saying that this is what adhd looks like for everyone!!

a/n: based on this request! i hope you like it, i'm sorry it's so all over the place but that also felt pretty thematic so... hopefully it's okay. i'm planning on doing 1-2 more parts to this! the next part will be about the reader getting diagnosed and coming to terms with their diagnosis + telling the other lionesses about it. also if you're interested in more WLW football based fiction involving ADHD, read Cleat Cute by Meryl Wilsner!

------------

You had always felt… different. Not in a ‘not like other girls’ kind of way, more like an ‘I don’t understand what’s wrong with me’ kind of way. Things just seemed to be so much harder for you than for everybody else. 

As a teenager, you were constantly getting told off by your parents for your messy room and bad grades. You were a smart kid, they said, so why couldn’t you just do your homework and study for tests like everyone else?

You would ask yourself the same thing. Forcing yourself to sit at your desk, staring at your maths textbook, desperately begging your brain to just cooperate, just this once, not understanding why it was so hard to just do the work. 

When your parents would come into your room you would instantly feel a flash of white-hot shame at the state of it. Clothes everywhere, rubbish you’d forgotten about in corners, plates, cups, half empty water bottles. You couldn’t help it, it was like once something was out of your line of sight, you just forgot it existed, like the plate of half-eaten food that you’d put next to the bed at some point and then had absent-mindedly pushed under the bed to get it out of your way. When you found it weeks - okay, months - later, you were so embarrassed by the mould that you secretly threw it away rather than take it downstairs to the kitchen, where anyone could see it. 

You would forget things you knew you should remember, things that anyone else would have remembered, like weekly tutoring sessions that your parents paid for (something they reminded you of when you forgot, yet again). You felt so stupid. It was at the same time, every Wednesday after school, so why couldn’t you remember? 

Or doctor’s appointments, dentist appointments, any kind of appointment really. You would write it into your calendar, set yourself a reminder on the day, set yourself another reminder 30 minutes before, and all that would happen is that you would swipe away the reminder thinking ‘oh, yeah’, and then you’d continue doing whatever you were doing before. It was only when you’d hear the phone ring that you’d instantly know it was about you, about the appointment you’d missed, or maybe it was from school, or maybe something else you’d just completely forgotten about.

And all of that wasn’t even taking your issues with human interaction into account. You’d always struggled to make friends, especially as a girl who liked football. When you hit 9 or 10, the other girls in your class started to grow more interested in talking about boys, or music, or tv. You couldn’t understand what they found so interesting, that they’d rather spend breaks just sitting around chatting to each other when they could be running around playing football, or some other game, or anything more exciting. 

As you got a little older, though, you realised that it was clearly a ‘you’ problem. People at your secondary school were nice, for the most part, but you still struggled to make friends. When you’d accidentally interrupt someone, or start talking too much and too loudly in excitement, or fidget a little too noisily, people would give you looks and whisper to each other about how weird you were. You learned to sit on your hands to stop yourself from clicking a pen or tapping your fingers, to keep quiet to avoid saying the wrong thing or saying it the wrong way. 

Football was a good escape. It was fast-paced enough that you didn’t have time to think about other things, and there was enough going on that your brain wasn’t looking for external stimulation. You’d always been observant, noticing things most people wouldn’t notice, and you used it to your advantage. You were quick with the ball and you seemed to always know where everyone was around you. You were so good, in fact, that you made the England U17 squad - something you’d hoped would make you seem a little cooler at school, but just added to your ‘weirdness’. 

That time was far behind you now, though. Now you were in your twenties and not only played football professionally, having joined Arsenal when you were 19, but also played for the England senior squad, one of the Lionesses. 

That’s not to say that you didn’t still struggle with things. Your apartment was a mess, you lost things constantly, you would still interrupt people and fidget. You had friends though, at least. If anything, people knew what you were like and they loved you for it. It became a running joke on match days that you would inevitably lose your shoes, or your shin pads, or your phone, or that you’d need to borrow a hair bobble from someone. Everything would always show up right as you started to panic, though. Your shoes would be in the bathroom, because you’d been holding them when you went in to go to the toilet before the game like you always did. Your shin pads would be in the pockets of your jacket, one on each side, so you wouldn’t lose them. 

“Looking for this?” Leah would ask, pulling your phone out of her pocket and smiling at the look of relief on your face.

“Yes! Where was it?” 

“On the bus. You left it on your seat,” she explained.

“Huh. That doesn’t sound like me,” you joked.

“Nah, that definitely doesn’t sound like you,” she would say with a wink.

So, yeah. Maybe you had a reputation as the forgetful one, and the messy one, and the chaotic one, and the distracted one. But that was just who you were, right?

---------

Okay, you knew you were here for a reason. There must have been something you were going to get from the prep room, that’s literally the only reason you were there. You mentally went through everything you needed; shoes, on your feet, jacket, wearing it, headphones, in your pocket, water bottle - fuck, that was it! Your bottle!

You grabbed it from the bench where you’d left it and headed back out. On the way you needed to pee, so you quickly went to the bathroom, washed your hands, and went back to the training pitch.

“Did you get your water bottle?” Leah asked, a quizzical look on her face as she looked at your empty hands.

“Fuck,” you sighed. “I had it. Where the fuckety fuck did I put it?”

“Y/n, come on! Training started 5 minutes ago!” one of the trainers called over. You felt a white hot flash of shame in your belly, heat rising to your face.

“Do you want me to help you look for it?” Leah asked.

You shook your head, looking down. “No, it’s fine,” you muttered. “Let’s just start training.”

After training, Kyra came over to you in the changing room. 

“Here,” she said, holding out your bottle. “I found it in the toilets, on the sink.” 

---------

After that you made a list. You stuck it to the inside of your cubby, and every day you would look through it, double checking everything before you left the room. It helped for a while, until you started seeing the list as part of the background and your brain started ignoring it.

When you went to international camp, it got worse. You were away from your routine, in an unfamiliar environment. At least the people you were with was pretty much the same as always. As nice as it was to see everyone though, it was draining, too.

“Y/n? What do you want?” Leah asked. You were on a rare night out, the whole team at a restaurant by the beach together.

“Huh?” you asked, frowning. At a table nearby, people were singing ‘Happy Birthday’, cheering, clapping. On the other side of you, someone was having a conversation - it sounded like they were on a first date, but that didn’t make sense, you were in Spain, they sounded English, why would they be on a first date here? 

“What do you want to order?” Leah asked again, prompting you. The waitress stood there, looking at you expectantly, notepad in her hand. A light flickered somewhere in the corner of your eye.

“Oh, um, I,” you stuttered, looking at the huge menu in front of you. The people on the date were talking about what kind of things they liked to do on holiday, she liked to go sightseeing, he just wanted to relax, at another table a baby started crying, the ice in people’s glasses was clinking, knives and forks were scraping against plates, that song you’d had stuck in your head for days now was still playing on a loop in the back of your head, your leg was bouncing uncontrollably under the table, someone’s nails were tapping against their phone, the man was telling the woman that the whole point of holidays is to relax-

Leah’s hand on your knee made you look up from where you’d zoned out looking at the menu. The waitress was gone. Leah was looking at you with a concerned expression, her hand steady on your knee. 

“Do you want to go outside, get some fresh air?” she asked calmly. 

You nodded wordlessly. 

With a hand on your arm she guided you outside the restaurant, taking you to a nearby bench to sit down. The breeze cooled the sweat on the back of your neck, making you shiver. 

“Are you cold?” Leah asked, reaching for her jacket. 

“No, no, I’m okay,” you said, breathing in deeply. You knew you should just go back inside, suck it up, smile at Leah and say everything was okay, but you just couldn’t yet. You just needed a few more minutes.

You sat there in silence for a minute. It wasn’t a bad silence, but you could tell Leah was giving you space to talk whenever you felt ready. You didn’t want to talk about what had just happened though, you felt too embarrassed about getting overwhelmed like that. Everyone else was fine, it was just you who couldn’t handle it.

“The people at the table next to us, I think they were on a first date,” you said instead, looking at your hands. 

“Yeah?” Leah laughed. 

“Yeah. But, like, why would they be on a first date here? They sounded English, why are they on a first date at a restaurant in Spain?” you asked.

“Huh, I dunno,” Leah mused. “Maybe they’re both on holiday and happened to meet and decided to go on a date?”

“Maybe,” you nodded. After a few seconds of quiet, you sighed. “I’m sorry about all that. I just got… there was just a lot going on.”

Leah squeezed your knee. “It’s okay. It was busy in there, wasn’t it?”

You nodded again. “Yeah. My brain just couldn’t handle it all. All the noises, and the menu- oh, fuck, I didn’t order anything!”

“It’s okay,” Leah chuckled. “I ordered for you.”

“You did?”

“Yeah. A sandwich and chips. If you don’t want it I’m sure someone else will eat it,” she shrugged. 

“I didn’t even notice you ordering for me,” you frowned. “I feel like something’s wrong with me.”

“Wrong with you? What do you mean?”

“I don’t know, I- I feel like something is wrong with my brain,” you tried to explain, not knowing how to put it into words.

Leah frowned. 

“It doesn’t matter, I’m making a big deal out of nothing,” you said, suddenly feeling awkward and embarrassed. “Let’s go back inside. Everyone is probably wondering where we are.”

“Wait, y/n, we can stay outside for a little bit longer,” Leah said.

“No, no,” you stood up quickly, not meeting her eyes. “Let’s go. I’m okay, I promise.”

———

It didn’t take long for Leah to corner you the next day, determined to talk to you..

“You seem distracted,” Leah said, sitting down next to you on the bench. “More distracted than usual, I mean.”

“Ha, yeah,” you said. “It’s kind of ironic, actually. I’m distracted because I’m distracted.”

“Right…” she said, frowning. “You’re distracted because you’re thinking about why you’re distracted?”

“Yeah,” you sighed, trying to think of how to word it. “We all know I get distracted easily, right?”

The blonde nodded. “Yeah, you’re like a magpie or something. You see something shiny, you gotta pick it up. Except the shiny thing is literally anything that catches your attention,” she laughed. 

“Exactly! Well, I was looking some stuff up online, or, no, I saw some stuff online, wait, let me start again,” you said. “My thoughts are moving faster than my mouth. Okay, so, when I was a teenager, I was on tumblr a lot. It was the only social media I really had. And on tumblr I’d see a lot about people with ADHD and autism and about hyperfixating on things. And I’ve always kind of hyperfixated on stuff - I mean, football, obviously, but other stuff too, like how on my days off I’ll binge watch an entire season of a TV show and then not shut up about it for like, a month straight, and then I’ll lose interest and basically never mention it again.”

“Or like when you decided to start playing guitar and bought a guitar and had 2 lessons and then stopped, or like when you got really into gardening for a few weeks and bought all those plants and seeds and books about gardening and then realised it was the wrong time of year for half the things you wanted to plant?” Leah asked, an amused look in her eyes.

“Huh. Yeah, I guess those count too,” you said, frowning. “So, yeah, I hyperfixate on things. And I’ve only ever seen it mentioned together with ADHD and autism. But I always thought wow, that’s so crazy that I do that but I don’t have either of those!”

“I feel like I know where this is going,” Leah smiled. 

“Leah, what if I do have ADHD? I don’t think I have autism, I mean, I might, but I haven’t really looked into it yet, maybe I should-”

“One thing at a time, okay?” she laughed, putting a hand on your arm. “Y/n, we both know I am in no way qualified to tell you if you have ADHD or not. But I know you very well. We’ve known each other for what, 5, 6 years now? And it would not surprise me in the slightest if you have ADHD.”

“Really?” you asked, incredulous. “What makes you say that?”

“You mean, aside from what I just mentioned?”

“Well, yeah.”

“Last night? At the restaurant?” she gently reminded you.

“What do you mean?”

“Well, I may have also read up on the topic a bit. I kind of suspected you might have ADHD, but I didn’t want to bring it up until you did,” she explained, not meeting your eyes. You felt something flutter in your stomach at her confession. “Anyway, one of the things I read was that people with ADHD also struggle with overstimulation and sensory issues. Do you think that could be what happened last night?”

“Oh,” you said, suddenly quiet. “Maybe?”

“I’m sorry if I overstepped, I just-”

“No, no, it’s okay! It’s just a lot to take in.” you told her. Your mind was racing, thoughts splitting off into dozens of other thoughts, some fully formed and some nothing more than singular words or phrases. 

You sat together in silence for a few minutes.

“What do I do now?” you asked Leah, your voice small. “I, um, I didn’t think I’d get this far. You’re the first person I’ve told, and I kind of expected you to tell me I’m being silly.”

“I would never say that,” she said, turning to look at you, her eyes fixed on yours. “I wouldn’t say that about something important to you, I promise. And as for what to do now, well, I guess you have a few options. You can keep going as you have been, and do some more research, if you want, and try to figure it out alone. Well, not alone. You’ve got me. Or you could speak to someone, a professional. See if your hunch is right.”

“And then?”

“I dunno, I guess that’s up to you. I suppose they’d be able to help you with coping mechanisms, or put you on medication, if that’s what you wanted,” she shrugs. 

“Medication?” you asked. Your mind was full of pictures of hyperactive kids, bouncing off the walls. You propped your feet up on the bench, pulling your knees in close to your chest. “What if I’m wrong? What if there’s nothing wrong with me and I’m just being dramatic?”

“Then that’s okay, too,” Leah said firmly. “Then you’re just dramatic, but that’s okay, too. I promise.”

You nodded, resting your chin on your knees.

"Would you be able to help me find someone to talk to? I don't know how, or where, or, anything, really," you asked.

"Of course," she said, putting her arm around your shoulders and pulling you in close. "I'll help in any way I can."

[uselessnbee]

something i can't stop thinking about is the fact that Percy Jackson started as a comfort story for Rick's son to show him that his adhd and dyslexia doesn't have to be just a bad thing and the fandom then took Percy and Leo and made them into these stupid idiots that don't even know basic math or "big" words and wouldn't be able to even tie their shoelaces without someone else's (someone smarter's) help

don't yall see how fucked up that is? a big part of this fandom has adhd and/or dyslexia and/or other learning disabilities/neurodivergence and find comfort in those characters. they are called lazy and stupid all the time and then yall decided to take characters with those disabilities and ignore their inteligence and made them into something they are not just because their adhd is more "visible" (read more stereotypical looking) (even tho that's not true either because the fandom made them into chaotic gremlins but in reality Percy is more just sarcastic and snarky and even that is more just his internal monologue for his own amusment and to cope and Leo just uses humor as a coping mechanism to hide his depression and other issues but that's a discussion for another time)

Percy is canonically very smart and strategic. no he isn't very good at school. it's what happens when you're neurodivergent and have learning disabilities. that doesn't mean he's stupid. no he doesn't know everything about greek mythology and that doesn't make him stupid either. but when Annabeth tells him the myth he is very good at coming up with strategies and how to win a fight. he's not smart as Annabeth because Annabeth is literally a daughter of the goddess of wisdom so stop fucking comparing them. are you also going to call Annabeth weak and incapable because she can't control water? no you won't because that's fucking stupid. and Leo. fucking Leo. is literally canonically a mathematic genius and also genius when it comes building stuff. they're both smart. they're not fucking stupid. they know and understand words that are longer than 5 letters. no they do not struggle with basic knowledge. they're not fucking stupid.

and miss me with the "it's just a joke" bullshit

jokes are supposed to be funny

and it's not just a joke for many of you because the number of fanfics where they are written in exactly this way is too fucking high. it's actually surprising to find a fanfic where they are written right

in conclusion: the way this fandom portrays Percy and Leo is reinforcing the harmful misconception that people with adhd and/or other learning disabilities are stupid and i hate it with a burning passion

call me sensitive all you want i'll gladly accept it i will rather be called sensitive for hating that those characters are being treated this way than follow the fandoms harmful idea about them

thank you for coming to my ted talk <3

[endivinity]

I've been diagnosed with ADHD-inattentive! It's clinically mild. It wasn't picked up in childhood because I was a gifted kid who wasn't disruptive or fidgety, or doing otherwise vastly inappropriately-timed behaviour outside of the usual for my age group, and then when it started presenting in later high school years I got the classic 'has potential, just needs to focus. Unfinished projects' in my reports, but because I wasn't fidgety or majorly disruptive it just got sort of sidelined. I fell between the cracks. But I think that's just the done thing, for people like me. Not severe enough to be noticeable, or the symptoms are managed (with a lot of hidden difficulty), or you're not enough of a compelling case (trying to get government assisted work placement failed, back when it was just the sleep disorder) - just mediocre, a mild inconvenience, your strengths prevented from being fully reached because they don't like all the issues of your deficits. which for me is in administrative stuff, as evidenced by never replying to emails :'D And then people sort of wonder why you're not doing everything they think you can. Believe me, we fucking know. We're frustrated too. There's a special kind of grief that comes with that, being left behind because you exist in a middle ground of expectation and disappointment, that I think I have to make peace with as I move forward with this. I'm 31. I've lost nine years to struggling between my degree and now. It wasn't all bad, but it's one of those things where I can't help but wonder how different it could've been if I'd known earlier. So what happens from here? I dunno. I'm being put on a trial run of meds and I have to properly handle my life balance since it's very easy to neglect your health when there are no outside pressures to do otherwise. more than anything I want to finish those five-year-old commissions that are still outstanding. Every time I open the files I get anxious and it really, really fucking sucks for everyone involved. From there, who knows?

[am-i-the-asshole-official]

AITA for outing my father at his old job?

I (M22) recently got a job hauling hazmat across the US in a semi. I had to take tests to not only receive my CDL, but to know what to do in case of an emergency when hauling things like explosives, flammables, corrosives, etc. The hazardous material part of the test was done on computer on site, however if you fail they let you log in and try again from home. But I passed that part right away because I already knew everything that would be on the test.

My father (M53) worked the same job for the same company and when I was in middle and high school, and pressured me into taking the hazardous material test for him so he could get the job. His reasoning was he had been out of school for so long he wasn't good at studying for tests, but I was used to it. Plus he was dyslexic and ADHD (both true), and he would probably fail the test no matter how many times he tried it because he couldn't read well or pay attention. I said it was probably important for him to know this stuff since it IS hazardous material, but he said he DID know everything he needed to, he was just bad at tests. And that if I didn't take it for him he would fail, and then he would be unemployed, and then we would be out on the street and it would be my fault. So I studied his hazardous materials booklet front to back and took the test for him and he passed.

It didn't stop there, though. With this job you're also required to take refresher safety courses online every week, and you can't get your next assignment till you pass. He used the same argument to get me to take those tests for him every week as well, until I knew everything about the placards and hazmat and road safety etc better than he did.

The trainer (M49) I was assigned was friends with my dad when he worked here, and said something like "If you're as quick a study as your dad then you'll be our best driver," and I said something like "I've been your best driver for almost a decade, you just didn't know it." He asked what I meant and I told him how I was the one taking those safety tests for my dad every week until he quit 3 years ago, and actually he quit because I was moving out and I said no to coming over to his house every week to keep taking the test for him.

I told the trainer because A) I thought it didn't matter because my dad didn't work there anymore, and B) Honestly? I've never really gotten along with my dad, and some part of me wanted to tell on him for one of the many things he pressured me into doing as a kid. I expected to make him lose a friend, maybe tarnish his "perfect" reputation a little bit, but it's gotten a lot bigger than that.

My dad doesn't work with hazmat anymore, but he did have a job delivering food to nearby grocery stores that he apparently lost because that trainer called and told his boss what I told him, and my dad called me and cussed me out and said because of me he probably would lose his CDL and not be able to be a truck driver anymore, and that's all he knows. He's not exactly rich, either, so he's probably just a couple missed paychecks away from being in serious trouble, and he also lost his health insurance. I for sure didn't mean for it to go this far. AITA?

What are these acronyms?

[copperbadge]

Hi Sam! I wanted to ask if you feel lately like you've been getting anything positive out of your therapy, because a lot of your initial thoughts about it kind of mirror mine. I'm very logical (except when I'm upset at myself) and very skeptical, so I feel like a therapist either isn't going to tell me anything new, or that I'm going to just disregard it because I can't trick myself into believing things that I just plain don't believe.

But I'm also starting to come to a realization, two years after my ADHD diagnosis and letting go (without therapy!) of most of the executive dysfunction-fueled self worth issues I was having, that I'm kind of Not Okay in other ways. I'm safe —going to work every day and doing my job so I won't lose my livelihood and have never had a self harm urge in my life— But I'm not really okay. I'm having major self esteem issues related to my personality separate from the executive dysfunction that are putting me in a bad place. I don't want to take antidepressants for reasons I won't go into but that means my other option is therapy and... I don't know if I'm a person that therapy will actually work on. I found a lot of validation in some of your perspectives, about affirmations being bullshit and "mindfulness" exercises feeling impossible and useless, about not having an inner monologue and how that might be causing issues with traditional methods. So I was just wondering, do you feel like therapy is working now that you've been in it longer?

I've wasted a lot of money on "elective" (and ultimately useless, back to square one) medical nonsense this year and I'm not eager to waste more, but I've also met my insurance deductible so it's the best time to try it if I'm going to.

I mean, it depends on the modality a little but I don't think trying basic talk therapy can hurt, as long as you find a decent therapist. And it's better to try it now when you're feeling Mostly Okay than waiting until you are Really Not Okay. But this entire paragraph comes with a lot of context so....

A lot of what I talked about in terms of struggling with mindfulness, etc. was less related to the therapy I am still in than it was to the DBT class I took at Therapist's suggestion. We were both aware that she was basically throwing stuff at the wall to see what stuck, and while it was an interesting class I don't think for me it was helpful. As you mention, I struggled with affirmations and visualization since neurologically I'm not really set up for those; I don't think they're objectively bullshit but I do think there's an assumption within the mental health industry that they will have function for everyone and that's simply untrue, and the expectation that it will is very damaging. I also struggled with the physical-intervention aspects (called TIPP usually) which didn't work at all for me and felt frankly like doctor-approved self harm. DBT can get very culty, which set off a ton of red flags for me -- possibly false flags, but they still waved real big.

And that's because I also have a lot of trust issues surrounding therapy. To the point where, the minute one of the people running the DBT class made actually quite gentle fun of me for asking a question he couldn't answer, I checked out on anything he said. We were learning about a DBT concept called Wise Mind and I asked, "If wise mind is an identifiable mental state, how do we know if we're in it?" and when he couldn't quite answer beyond "It's different for everyone" I said, "But if we know it's real there must be some kind of common denominator, a measurable data point," and he said "Well, Sam, you're not going to levitate" and the rest of the class laughed. Sorry bud, this is almost certainly an over-reaction, but I'm me and you lost me when you came at me instead of just admitting you didn't know. (Also it turns out I just live in Wise Mind like 80% of the time which is one reason I couldn't tell.)

But basic talk therapy outside of DBT is just...you talk at someone about your problems and come up with ways to try and solve them, which is a lot more straightforward and way less frustrating. You have to be an active participant, you have to both have a goal and be willing to discuss reaching it, but that goal can be as simple as just "figure out what my mental health goals should be" at first. You don't have to learn like, vocabulary for it.

The thing is, while I have seen some improvement in regulation issues, I also struggle with basic talk therapy. Most people, and this blew my mind, see measurable improvement in nine to eighteen therapy sessions. A lot of people don't go long-term, they just are having a moment and get help getting through the moment and then can disengage, with their therapist's approval.

I was in therapy consistently from the age of nine to eighteen and only stopped because I reached legal majority and physically refused to go.

Not one minute of those nine years did I want to be there. And, because none of the three therapists I saw across those years actually explained to me why I was there or how therapy worked, for me it felt like "Your punishment for having feelings is to speedrun every feeling you had this week in an hour, to a stranger." There was also what my current therapist believes to be some extremely unethical behavior going on, which didn't help.

So it has taken actually a lot of time to get to a place where I would even allow her to understand what help I need. I've been in therapy for about a year (generally weekly but there have been some gaps) and it has only recently gotten deeper than very basic interpersonal problem-solving.

Like, two weeks ago I told her, "I had a thought this week that I couldn't tell you about something I was doing because then you'd have material on me" (meaning blackmail material) "and that's a fucked-up thing to think." And once I'd actually identified it as fucked up I had zero issue telling her about it, wasn't even nervous as I did so. Who's she going to tell? She's literally legally constrained from telling.

I think well over half of what she does is either validate that whatever emotion I'm having is normal, affirm my reactions so I don't keep believing I behaved weirdly, or praise something I've done that was a positive act. Does this work? Not always, because I'm unfortunately very aware that it's part of her job to do those things. But yeah, sometimes. Even if you don't fully believe it, "Hey that was a really smart move" is nice to hear. Sometimes she helps me come up with a plan for stressful future events or (rarely) behavior modification, and sometimes she either provides me with research or points me towards research I can do on my own. We don't do meditation or affirmations or stuff like that.

Like, last week I brought up the fact that I hadn't really ever thought about how if I have a disability that causes emotional dysregulation and I got it from my parents, they also likely had undiagnosed emotional dysregulation when raising me. So she said I should look into research on children with emotionally dysregulated parents. I was pretty annoyed by what I found (the ONE TIME adults are the focus instead of the kids is the ONE TIME I needed to learn about the kids, really?) but it led to something that was both informative and upsetting, so we discussed that. And when I was stumped about how to move forward with the information, she suggested that my general coping mechanism of writing about it was probably a good plan.

(At which point I just silently advanced my powerpoint presentation to the next slide, where I had a series of quotes from the Shivadh novels where Michaelis, acting as a parent, repeatedly does the exact opposite of the upsetting thing, because I realized even before the meeting that it's an ongoing theme in my work whenever I deal with people being parents. It's a good thing she has a sense of humor and also that I do.)

So yeah. Going into therapy you have to be ready to reject a therapist if you don't like them or if they get weird and pushy, you have to be ready to be a self-advocate, but you are the client; it shouldn't be super difficult to find someone who can at least walk you through what you want from it and agree not to do the stuff you don't want, and if you want to stop going you just...stop going.

Good luck, in any case! I hope you get what you need, whether or not that ends up being therapy.

[midnightcinderella]

People who would suffer at NRC

Each dorm has at least one of these students and god help them. This is very self-indulgent and each trait applies to me. If you relate, then rip to the both of us.

No proof-reading, we rawdog this shit. Word count: ~1300 Notes: no gendered pronouns for reader. mentions of ADHD, depression, and anxiety. mentions of illness. no romantic relationships

Heartslabyul

People with ADHD. Rip to us fr.

You'd forget at least a handful of rules a day, but it's really not your fault. Riddle better get off your case istg.

The ones who are more devoted to remaining productive make big colorful signs all over the damn place.

In their own rooms would be stuff like a box that says "keys and wallet go here" or a sign by the door with a checklist of what they need before they go, like homework or textbooks.

There are signs in common areas, too. They'll say stuff like curfew times or reminders of jobs that need to be done around the dorm.

There's always backlash if Riddle tries to take them down for being an eyesore because not only do they help ADHD students remember what needs to be done but students without ADHD, too. No sane person is gonna be thinking about feeding flamingos 24/7.

Savanaclaw

People with asthma. Place is dusty as shit. And hot. And humid at times.

I'm surprised the beastman students haven't taken any measure to seal off the inside of the dorm to prevent and from getting in. Guess everyone doesn't mind inhaling dust straight into their lungs.

Not to mention regular exercise is a dorm-wide tradition. Shoutout to my fellow mile walkers <3

If you have asthma and a dander/dust allergy, I'd just drop out tbh.

People who easily overheat/sweat. Double rip to us.

Get ready to go back and forth with your dormmates about smelling bad after sweating. It's a common occurrence. Someone sasses you, you sass back, and you're friends again 3 minutes later.

Everyone will think you're dying when you're dripping sweat after some stretches outside. No, you're not tired, you're just hot.

Octavinelle

People who are bad at math/bad with money. Listen.

The dorm isn't full of people who are as business minded as Azul, but there are students that offer accounting help for a fee. Negotiate that fee for the love of god.

Thankfully, you won't be scammed out of house and home because:

(1) it's generally frowned upon to scam people within Octavinelle; you don't hurt one of your own. It's about loyalty.

(2) someone is likely to take pity on you and will throw you a bone, telling you about a huge sale or where to find good job opportunities.

People who are gullible. Once again, double rip.

And once again, thank the lucky stars that loyalty is such a big thing here so you might be tricked into doing someone's job for them like mopping the Lounge, but nothing that would hurt you too badly.

If a study partner tries to feed you false information for shiggles, that'll get shut down real quick by another student. If your grades go down, then the whole dorm goes with you.

Good thing that doesn't happen often, and Azul offers his study guides for a highly discounted price to his own.

Scarabia

People who don't do well with sudden changes in temperature. Man, listen.

Hellishly hot during the day and even more hellishly cold at night. Dante would be thrilled.

God forbid you have any athletic activities close to sunset because you'll have to shower off that sweat quick before you freeze to death.

If anyone has a problem with the sound of the hairdryer after sundown, they're just gonna have to deal with it or risk catching your inevitable cold.

Speaking of, if sudden changes in temperature make you sick, double rip. I know your pain.

Kalim may not be able to come see you in person, but if he finds out you're sick, he'll send meds and some warm food. If that food was made by Jamil, then you owe him one.

You don't wanna owe him one.

If you need to leave your room after sundown, you're going to do it wrapped up with a blanket over your head. If someone mistakes you for a ghoul, that's their own problem.

Pomefiore

People with depression. Listen. Someone without depression could find it hard to keep such a strict regimen day in and day out; do not expect too much out of us.

If you think that means you're getting out of it, though, you'd be wrong.

Group accountability is a thing here. If you need help sticking to your routine, you're getting it. You can't refuse.

You're all going to be beautiful together, goddammit.

If that chronic fatigue be hittin ya, you might get a pass for a few steps of your routine. But if a particularly caring dormmate decides you have to do the full routine and straight up does it for you, lol.

Depending on how you view that sort of help, it might be really nice. Or maybe a little humiliating.

The dorm kitchen is only going to have healthy ready-made snacks. So if it's a day where you can't cook or go all the way to the cafeteria, that is what you're working with. Either that or you crawl your way over the the Shop for a candy bar.

Ignihyde

People who struggle with technology. Yes there are young people who aren't great with technology. We exist. Mind your business.

No matter how many classes you take teaching you how to use MagExcel, it never sticks for long. Even if you pass the exams, all your knowledge leaves to go buy milk by the time the week is over.

You're gonna need to interrupt people's gaming sessions to ask for help. It may annoy them, but you're doing it anyway because you refuse the reinvent the wheel 12 times.

People who prefer paper over screens. Call me old fashioned but staring at screens all day Hurts My Eyes.

You'd get physical copies of your textbooks if you could, but those free pdfs your classmates pass around are too tempting to pass up. They're free, for god's sake.

You also might be limited to board games on game nights. They're not bad, but there's not a whole lot you can do with them. You're a wiz at Cards Against Reality tho.

Every so often Ignihyde has a dorm-wide game night where everyone sits around in the common room with their headphones in, playing their own games. Together.

Though the board game players are in the next room. Oddly enough, they're the rowdiest of the bunch, and it sounds like they have the most fun by the way they're yelling and cheering.

You have seen some nerd fights start over a game of Ichi.

Diasomnia

People who have anxiety. One, Lilia is a menace. Two, your housewarden is the Malleus Draconia. Meep.

Whether it's Lilia or Malleus you run into, it feels like your heart will explode at any time.

Not to mention it's so dark in and outside of the building for no good reason. What's a fella gotta do to get some fucking sunlight in here? You're sick of worrying about what could be behind every corner.

You once wondered if Malleus needed a UV/heat lamp, but knew better than to ask. That doesn't mean you're not curious, though.

People who dislike loud sounds. I don't think I have to explain this one.

At first you thought that staying near Silver meant that you'd be staying away from Sebek, but that wasn't the case and you were at a loss as to what to do.

Then you tried going in the other direction whenever you saw Malleus, but all that did was send Sebek after you personally, asking very loudly why you did not want to be around Lord Malleus.

At one point, you got sick of his shit and muzzled him via magic. Then Malleus showed up and you were all oh shit. But then all he did was chuckle about how you were getting along so well. You took that to mean he wouldn't ever stop you from muzzling Sebek.

You were right.