#just kinda dissociating and forgetting to reply or that i meant to tell them things etc

[gregmarriage]

feel like i always have to have something to say™️ when i text my friends, but like, i always have to remind myself that i could just say hi, or like send funny image™️ and it will be fine ☺️ <(clenching fists)

[hotchley]

by any other name

So I wrote the fic inspired by this post. It's too long for a drabble. I kinda hate it. It's not been proofread and there's little plot. It's a bit anticlimactic, but it was fun in the moment and I need to go to sleep so... yeah. We're going with it. There's a happy ending!

Trigger Warnings: intrusive thoughts, past child abuse, trauma, trauma responses, implied panic attacks, food mention, blood mention, death mention, slight implication of past dissociative episodes, religion, religious trauma, religious themes

read on ao3!

The road to hell is paved with good intentions.

Aaron remembers being told that as a young boy, shifting in his seat because the clothes his mother made him wear to church were uncomfortable. It had confused him. He'd spent so long being told hell was for bad things- sometimes he was included in that list- that good seemed to be the exact opposite of that.

He'd tried to ask his mother, but she had silenced him with a look. He didn't even bother looking at his father.

Later he realised what it meant, and found himself agreeing. After all, his father was a terrible man who hurt everyone he touched, but he always said it was with good reason. Aaron hasn't set foot in a church since Haley was buried, yet he still finds himself wishing one of the men who made his life a misery is burning in hell.

He tries to not think about the implications of that too much.

The proverb comes to mind again as he argues with Jack. Not over anything serious- not in the grand scheme of things. But to a seven-year-old boy, navigating life without his mother, it is the most important thing in the world.

They're arguing over shoes.

Jack wants to wear sandals. His father wants him to wear trainers. Hotch had checked the weather forecast that morning- it was going to rain. And he didn't want Jack catching a cold because of it.

But then Jack's bottom lip starts to quiver, and he looks to his father like he's being told his mother is in heaven and Aaron thinks of the meaning behind the words. If he doesn't let this go, then what's to say he'll need to have the next thing go his way. And the thing after that. And the thing after that.

What's to say that when Jack looks back, wondering where everything went wrong and he stopped being his father's son, he will realise it was this moment?

"Okay. Okay, wear the sandals, and then let's get going," Aaron says.

Jack, completely and blissfully unaware- as he should be- of what his father has been thinking, grins, his earlier sadness forgotten. He puts his other shoe on and then runs out the door. Aaron picks up his bag and coat, smiling slightly at the trust Jack has in his ability.

Jack's teacher smiles at them when they get to his classroom. Knowing Aaron is running late, she just takes Jack's things and bids him goodbye. The relief visibly crosses his face as he realises he won't have to make small talk. He goes to tell her about Jack's bag, but she waves him away.

She's seen enough interactions between children to know what's going on. It's why she's so unsurprised when she opens his bag to see his trainers and favourite socks are neatly tucked away for when it does inevitably rain and soak him.

Aaron makes it to work on time. Of course he does.

"Morning Hotch," Anderson says when they get into the elevator together.

He's one of the few people to follow the "no inter-team profiling" rule, so he doesn't notice how some of the tension seems to bleed out of his boss' shoulders once the nickname is used. Doesn't even realise how Hotch gives him a slight smile when his back is turned.

He steps out, and everything is as it should be.

The ghost of his father may be haunting him more than usual, but Aaron spent most of his life being ignored. He knows how to hide. He knows how easy it is to forget about someone when you bury yourself in something else.

So that's exactly what he does. He logs into his computer, and he starts making his way through emails. By the time Emily- always the last to arrive, yet always on time- sits down, taking a few minutes to speak to the others, he's gotten through all the ones that came in last night.

His ear is hurting, but he chooses to ignore it as much as he can. Halfway through his second file, he opens his door. Spencer taps Derek, and a few minutes later, the rest of the team is assembled to collaborate on a profile. It means lots of talking, and the occasional shuffling of papers. It means noise, but not so much that it's unbearable.

Aaron smiles, and it feels like the ghost of his father fades. He is loved. He is cared for. He is worth time and effort.

Despite the nature of their work, he's in a good mood as the day continues.

By lunchtime, the memory of his father is breathing down his neck, criticising everything he does. His posture is crooked. His notes are too messy. His profile isn't good enough, and the killer is going to get away with their crimes.

Just like Michael Hotchner.

He has no idea where the sudden bad day is coming from, but he can't shake it now. He will not waste the day and he will not give in, but it is just one of those days where the pain is so much more than he thinks he can tolerate. He wishes he knew how to cope properly, but he doesn't.

His pen suddenly snaps. He'd been holding it too tightly, and now his hands are covered in red ink. He was annotating. He always annotates in red, but now, as it stains his hands, all he sees is Haley's blood. Foyet's. Elle's. Kate's.

There are no tissues in his room. So he goes to the bathroom, hoping the team doesn't see what's happened. They don't, but they do hatch a plan.

Again: the road to hell is paved with good intentions.

The short walk does nothing to clear his head, and every second he spends looking at the file is a second in which he thinks about the pen just suddenly breaking. How did he not realise? How did he not know? This time it was the pen. A thing.

What happens when it's a person? Then what?

He thinks he hears someone call his name. But that's ridiculous. It's too late for lunch, and too early for anything else. If someone needed something, they would've knocked on his door, especially with his ears acting up the way they were.

"Aaron Michael Hotchner," Derek shouts.

He doesn't like using Aaron's full name, but they got him a doughnut from his favourite bakery, and he can't be bothered to walk all the way up to his office. Also, Aaron didn't respond the first three times they called for him, so if anything, the shock will force him away from his desk for a few moments. God only knows how much he needs it.

Aaron doesn't hear Derek's voice.

He hears the echo of his father.

His throat starts to close. His vision starts to blur.

There is nowhere to hide. Not in his office. He used to have spots, just in case, but Jack hates it. Jack cannot stand it, so Aaron got rid of all the things that made it possible. He would never make his son hurt the way his father made him hurt, and maybe to him that is nothing, but when Jack grows up- because he will, in time- he will realise how brave his father has always been.

But that is the future.

In the present, Aaron has nowhere to turn.

The walls are closing in.

The voice is getting louder. It is getting closer. The danger is coming towards him, and he has nowhere to hide. He has nowhere to turn.

"Aaron?" Someone says.

He lets out a sound. He presses his hand to his mouth. He cannot take it back, but he won't make another one. It will only make things worse for him. He learnt that lesson long ago.

"Hotch." A different voice. A safe voice.

He turns in that direction.

He doesn't see it, but Derek Morgan's face is filled with relief and anger and sadness all at once. Because it suddenly makes sense.

"Aaron" has been tainted by the mouth of the man who gave his friend his middle name. That man and his actions are the reason Jack's middle name is Derek, not Aaron. "Hotch" has never passed Michael's lips, and it never will. "Hotch" is the man, who didn't even flinch when a bullet wedged itself in the wall next to his head.

Aaron is the boy that cried himself to sleep, wondering why his father couldn't love him the way he was meant to.

"Hotch. You're safe. Breathe with me," he says.

Hotch does.

When the panic passes, the heat rises to his cheeks, and he silently pleads with Derek to not say a word. He realises now that the other voice was Dave. Dave, who has left the room. He feels like he's failed another father.

The door and blinds are closed. He's lost all sense of time, but he feels grounded, so it isn't too concerning.

"Thank you," he whispers. For everything, goes unsaid.

"You don't need to do that," Derek replies. Because it's not difficult. Not when it's you, are the words unspoken but still communicated.

Aaron manages a weak smile. It will be a silent understanding between them, just like so many other things.

"Would you like a moment?" Derek asks him.

Hotch doesn't trust his voice, so he just nods. Derek leaves him.

Only once he stops hearing the footsteps does he break.

He doesn't scream, even though he wants to. It has been thirty years. His body stopped knowing the touch of that man long ago, and yet every waking moment feels like it is ruled by him. He hates it, but Michael- for better or for worse- made him the man he is today, and there is no way to shake that.

Realistically, he knows that he is responsible for his actions, and that he was only influenced by his father up to a certain point, but when the tears are falling and dampening his trousers- not his shirt, they'll be too obvious- rationale is hard to cling to.

He walks down ten minutes later.

The team has been guarding his doughnut. Of course they have.

Hotch's eyes are red. Nobody comments. But everyone knows. Everyone understands now.

It is an uncomfortable silence, and it is uncomfortable to watch him try and pretend he is perfectly fine, but at least he got his treat, even though it tastes like dust in his mouth.

They get it now. Why he is always so adamant about being called Hotch. Why he hates the use of his first name. Why he so violently objected to the tradition of giving Jack his name as a middle name. Because he doesn't want his son to never be free of him.

Jack will one day give his children their grandfather's name, citing him as the greatest man he's ever known.

Again, that is the future.

In the present moment, Spencer calls him Hotch without a second thought. Dave stops calling him Aaron when he wants to get a point across, realising it only works due to fear. Emily continues to make slight alterations to the nickname that either get her an eye roll or look of horror. JJ and Penelope make sure any notes written to him use Hotch.

Derek doesn't change a thing, because their bond has always been different.

Jack comes home in trainers, understanding how much his father loves him.

It makes Hotch understand that his wishes are valid. His needs matter. His comfort is important to people.

Slowly, ever so slowly, the personalities attached to Hotchner, Hotch and Aaron merge into one.

And then Hotch introduces himself as Aaron.

The road to hell may be paved with good intentions, but intentions and actions are very different things that can completely alter the destination someone finds themselves at. And a rose by any other name would smell as sweet, so whether he is Hotch or Aaron, he is a good man, who found a way to defeat their father.

[craftypeaceturtle]

I want to start this off with saying that Virgil being Anxiety always struck me with being weird and not really fitting in with the others. My explanations for this has changed over the millions of years I have totally been in this fandom so maybe I’ll change my mind again but hey ho! This is that one idea I have currently that I just can’t seem to write. 

I like the idea of it starting off with Janus moving to the light side of the mindscape.

His room is really similar to Patton’s so Pat agrees to help him pack and carry it all over.

They end up finding a bunch of old baby videos and cut to them both watching old videos of a little toddler chaotic Remus.

The fic I started included their first ever video which was during Remus’ second ever Christmas. The darkside was decorated kinda haphazardly and cheaply. The camera is really shaky and was mostly pointed at the floor. Eventually Janus figures out he’s recording and slams the camera upwards to Remus sitting on the floor eating toast. 

I really don’t know why I’m fixated on this but just the idea of a little chubby Remus with a strip of toast in his tight little fist and sucking on his fist. Just absolutely destroying that toast really grossly but in that toddler way where they are still somehow cute. 

Eventually Janus is like I’ll move the boxes but you can keep watching if you really want. 

Patton only watches a few videos before moving away.

Once Janus comes back he asks where was Virgil.

Awkward suspenseful silence.

“It doesn’t matter, can you help me grab this box here?”

Uh oh a mystery is afoot. 

Patton helps him move for the rest of the day but he manages to run into Logan as he makes himself a tea as he goes to bed. 

Of course he tells him about this and how he’s a little worried how Janus didn’t answer his question. 

Logan is obviously like... “Uh you could ask Virgil or Remus himself?”

And Patton is then like “yoU’RE A GENUIS!”

The next day, as he makes breakfast, he asks Virgil very casually what his childhood was like. 

Virgil replies quite generically really.

He at first was like... “uh normal?” but once they really start talking then Virgil explains more specific memories like how Janus always made the best pancakes and how there was a really tall tree in the garden he always wanted to climb but he was scared he would get in trouble. 

Patton loosens up completely and just presumes that Janus was only awkward since Virgil did leave the dark side. Nothing bad happened in his childhood then!

He then commented whether he liked being brothers with Remus and Virgil looks at him like he’s insane.

“I never really even saw Remus! I think Janus tried to introduce us once but he upset me or something so we never tried again. I think the next time we really saw each other was when Thomas was an adult.”

Weird but maybe that was just their family.

Patton definitely feels better now but also he’s now all nostalgic so he goes to ask Remus about the childhood.

That’s when the mystery is again afoot. 

Remus presents THE EXACT SAME MEMORIES. WORD BY WORD.

“I never really even saw Virgil! I think Janus tried to introduce us once but he upset me or something so we never tried again. I think the next time we really saw each other was when Thomas was an adult.”

Patton panics and obviously Remus picks up on this.

Patton tells him that him and Virgil worded things the exact same way and that Janus even raising two kids completely separated while still tucking them goodnight at the exact same time was impossible. 

Remus goes all quiet.

“Well, you know how Janus is denial and stuff. He can make you forget memories and fill in the gaps himself. Sometimes he lets you just fill in the blanks yourself but if it’s really bad then he’ll make fake memories. He always swore up and down he would never do that to us. I always knew that was a lie. I just couldn’t figure out what was fake...”

Remus looks so accepting and dejected that Patton swears to get to the bottom of this. 

This is kinda where things get fuzzy and I don’t know specifics for how this story will work. 

Eventually it’s revealed that after the split, Remus was really really unstable. 

Children don’t really have many intrusive thoughts (obviously unless they’ve gone through some trauma).

So Remus’ role was all over the place and he was just really dissociative and behind. 

Eventually one day, Remus split apart again. 

Intrusive thoughts are defined as thoughts that cause anxiety and, within children, anxiety appears through intrusive thoughts. Anxiety defines intrusive thoughts and Anxiety takes the form of intrusive thoughts. They can’t exist without the other.

So when Remus split again to separate him and Anxiety, Janus just kind of lost it. 

Janus has no idea why they split into two since Remus did previously encompass both. Admittedly not well but they managed! He has no idea what changed...

But he tried to take it in stride.

Only now they were both unstable.

Some days he would wake up to two excited children and other days he had one child and then other days they were conjoined twins. 

They would finish each other’s sentences and they both couldn’t talk at the same time.

Sometimes Janus would ask a question to Remus and Virgil in another room would answer, but Remus would then think that he answered. 

They were just both way too unstable. 

They were separated but yet were clearly meant to be one side. Janus eventually started seeing them both as broken. Why would they have separated when that only worsened things. 

This continued until Thomas was a teenager (I’m thinking like 14, quite a young teen).

Then Janus put his foot down and separated them in the hopes that they would develop on their own and be more stable.

This ruined them.

They were inconsolable. They could barely pay attention, it worsened every previous symptom and now they couldn’t even have comfort in each other.

Janus broke down too.

He had no idea what to do. They had to develop on their own but this was ripping them apart more. But he couldn’t go back now as they were furious at him for doing this. He sobbed once he came up with his plan. 

He put them in denial about their link and planted fake memories of a childhood. 

Now they both think that they never knew each other or actively despised each other. 

Here’s where I don’t really know about an ending.

I like the idea of ending it here. A horrible ending of knowing they are in denial but it’s for the “better” and it would now cause more harm to let them know. 

But I also like the idea of them both realising and remembering and so they become really close all over again.

It leads to fun interactions like “Rem, can you shut up! It’s my time for the braincell!”/ “No I’m in the middle of something here!”

Or maybe the idea that now they’re both stable, they can fuse into one stable side again?

So there it is. For some reason, I just can’t write this out without it being really clunky. Obviously, considering I don’t even know what the ending should be. I feel like this would be a really fun thing to make art or a comic from but I can’t art. And I can’t imagine trying to design a Remus with a dash of Virgil. Like firstly you have to design a baby Remus but then also give him Virgil vibes! 

To ramble for a sec, I do have the idea of them dressing like a knight rather than Remus’ usual outfit. That like tunic with a hood fulfils the fantasy side with Remus and the hood being the hiding in clothes aspect with Virgil. Then you could do really funky armour based on Remus’ logo. But again, I can’t even picture what that would look like let alone actually art that. 

[orderuponthe99prettygrimmdiaries]

Road to Recovery 👣

Well, this is gonna be a long ass one. Also, this has been kinda drafted over the past... week? So it’s gonna be a real rollercoaster of a ride. 

Had just binged Lucifer’s new season and was on reddit, looking at comments of redditors yelling at Luci to enjoy whilst he was finding stuff to freak out about. 

Like him, I should have just been in the moment. Appreciated it. Instead of worrying about the next. 

The past week has been.. emotional. Have been getting used to the fact that I might never speak or hear or see him again. Been also trying to focus on the bad to kinda ease the pain. At least it hurts a little less, less crying too. But it’s also like one day you do great, no crying, not much of missing and pain, but then the next, everything creeps in altogether and you fall apart. 

The thing is... why does it hurt so bad? Things had been weird for months. I mean, I was the one who was always preparing myself for him to leave, I was the one who told myself I’d be okay even if we never went on the date. And I guess it just boils back to... expectations. 

I expected him to care more, I didn’t expect that he’d be able to leave just like this. From regular convos to nothing in a week, now almost 2 weeks. I mean, we’ve had breaks. 1 day, 5 days, 10 days... It’s kinda strange if we were actually interested in the other. Maybe he wasn’t much of a texter and wanted to talk when we met. But did we really share much when we met? It’s odd... He doesn’t reply properly to texts, he disappears, he doesn’t really care much at times, but for some reason, I seem to remember the good more. It seemed like he does listen (at times), there were moments when I felt like he cared. A part of me still trusts him or sees the best in him. 

Initially, I was trying to avoid talking about him so I would also stop thinking about him and I could move on. But I think talking about it also helps. Did also google about moving on from crushes, and that is a major point. Maybe I’ll never figure out what really went wrong, but maybe I could still give myself some sorta closure.  Though reminiscing does hurt too. Going back to the place where we met, which is basically my workplace which I’ve to be at almost every day... The memories flooding in about the conversations we had. But it also helps me to acknowledge my feelings and fears, stuff that I suppose I didn’t acknowledge then. Maybe if I had been less afraid and tried harder, especially during the times we were both around considering how hard it was to get our schedules together. He probably thought I wasn’t that interested and moved on. Guys fall fast, but they seem to move on pretty quick too.

Ended up dreaming about him last night... It was really nice. There was a shipment, I didn’t let myself have hope that it would have been him. And he turned around, and it was him. I said hey and touched his arm. I headed off downstairs talking to the other guys, one of them was teasing me for giving him my number. He came down too. We sat there for a bit, and I asked if I could lean on his shoulder, and we ended up hugging too. That was just wonderful, but it’s sad to know it’d never be reality. 

And I guess all those breaks we had throughout the months still gives me the slightest bit of hope that he might return... But now, 2 whole weeks of not speaking. The glimmer of hope fades as each day passes. Maybe, distance is just what we need, I tell myself. 

But now, there’s also a new guy. So I’m guessing the likelihood of seeing him ever again is almost impossible. But is it really so bad if we never spoke or see each other again? Did he even really care? What were we? 

Feels like history is repeating itself, and honestly, after re-reading old posts, maybe it is. Okay, but this time was slightly different. I fought harder. I should be proud that I got his number, or well, convinced him to get mine. I should be proud for initiating those texts, for finally picking up that video call, for asking him out. 

I do wonder at times if it would have been better if I was just honest from the start, that I was interested and I felt there’s something special, different, but not entirely sure what it was. I had friends tell me that I shouldn’t be too emotional about too much, especially at the start. I mean, I did do this the last time, granted they were all online friends, and now we’re still friends. Maybe it’s different being online vs irl. 

Should I continue fighting for him or just let this be another regret/what if? I guess I chose the latter. I was still too afraid to make a move, I was still too afraid to admit my feelings. I wanted to tell him, I wanted to give him the choice. But I was afraid, what if he only says he feels the same because knowing what I felt? I couldn’t take the leap. 

And the more I thought, the less I knew. What did I ever really know about you? What did I like about you? I guess I didn’t listen to myself enough, or to the rational part at least. The closer you look, the less you see. By the time I remember this, it was a little too late... 

I guess I need to stop trying to define everything. Some questions don’t have answers. Some stories won’t get closures. Not all friendships require daily talking. Why aren’t I okay with this? Am I just too attached to everyone? Does my life just basically revolve around people? Who the fuck am I?

I had been looking back at my old posts, all the way back to 2015, the darkest period of my life. I wanted to see what I did then, how did I handle it and pushed myself through. How the heck did I move on? Sure, it took me like... at least 2 years of moping around, then finally actually properly reaching out to get the help I needed. A couple months of counselling, pushing the focus back on myself, on self love and self care.

And all this unravelled within a couple months.

Granted, I think it was already starting to unravel early this year. All these work and personnel changes really fucked things up, with Covid just adding to it. And then comes those unexpected feelings, not knowing how to deal with it, worrying about how I’m gonna fuck it up, and in turn, fucking it up. Also, not giving myself a break when I truly needed it. I was afraid that if I took a break from texting him (okay I wasn’t really obsessively staring at my phone and replying immediately either, but I could have taken a proper break), I might have ended up losing him, and now, I’ve lost myself, I’ve lost him. 

So yep, losing myself... this time, I don’t think I was able to keep it as contained as I did previously. Loss of appetite, exhaustion... I guess at least I don’t exactly sigh as much as I did during the start of the year? But I guess now with Covid and mom at home, she’s noticed the symptoms too. And I guess how I tend to stay cooped in my room, retreat back after meals etc, not really making as much convos with my parents too... Maybe even agitation or irritation as my mom noticed too... 

She thinks it’s more physical, with my abnormal periods and stuff, like maybe I’m anaemic. Oof, and that one day she asked if I was alright because I didn’t seem happy. I literally broke down when I went back to my room. I try so hard to mask it all because I don’t want people to worry, and I want people to still be able to count on me when they need to. Though I’m pretty sure my colleagues noticed too. So I push myself. Sometimes I guess I pretend to be alright, cope with humour as my defence mechanism (self preservation through dissociation, amirite?), but then it comes crashing down the next day or next minute. 

I’m just human. I need to allow myself to feel. I need to embrace that I feel a lot, sometimes a little too much. I shouldn’t hate myself for caring too much, for feeling too much. I need to remember to allow myself to rest, or else this burnt out and exhaustion won’t do me or anyone any good. Yes, I want to be there for others, but sometimes you need to save yourself first. 

I’ve got one life to live, so I gotta live it. Right now it feels like I’m just surviving, otherwise basically floating through time and space. But it’s time to really live. it’s time to stop trying to keep everything under control. Sometimes a mistake is a destiny and sometimes we mess things up for the better. Stop comparing your progress and path to others. 

Recovery isn’t a straight line. You’re gonna feel good and then bad. You’re gonna feel like a bad-ass bitch who needs no one, but then the next you might be crying from the pain of missing him. Sometimes it will just get worse before it gets better. Real growth isn’t linear, it’s a step forward and 20 steps back. You’re gonna be tempted to text him, to hear his voice, to try one more time, but then you also gotta remember all the progress you’ve made. People are hard to forget and change takes time. 

Like Chandler and Joey were nudging Ross to move on from Rachel back in Season 1, maybe your friends had nudged you to move on too. My friends have been. Maybe our happiness just aren’t meant to be with each other. But I would love for you to be happy, even if it’s without me. 

So, I guess imma do a separate post about all the lessons I’ve re-learnt. It was a real headache trying to write this piece already. Thanks to anyone who’s actually taken the time to read this. Take care everyone! 

X

[meta-squash]

Your ADHD procrastination post has really stroke a nerve with me. I've had the same issue for years, but thought it's normal for everyone. Since about a year or so, I've been wondering if I may have an undiagnosed ADHD along diagnosed conditions. If it's not too personal, how else ADHD manifests in you? I hope it's okay to ask. I love hearing women's stories about ADHD because they are much different than the stereotypical image of it...

It’s not too personal! (FYI I go by they/them pronouns, but I am afab; it’s all good though!) Also, this got VERY long, I’m sorry! I’m verbose and have a lot to say, apparently.

So I personally have a weird relationship with ADHD. I was diagnosed with it (or some sort of attention deficit thing) when I was in like 3rd or 4th grade. I was briefly medicated but I think I was on Ritalin (I forget) and my child body couldn’t handle it; I was a zombie during the day and then when it wore off at night I was Evil and freaked out and wanted to fight everything. So I went off it pretty quick and didn’t get medicated after, presumably because my parents thought my ADHD wasn’t bad enough.

The reason they probably thought that is because my brother has Really Bad ADHD. Like, all the classic stereotypical symptoms and characteristics to the extreme: never shuts the fuck up, really damn loud all the time, extremely high energy, can learn pretty much anything in about 5 seconds but can’t actually hang on to an interest really (now that he’s an adult he can, but not as a kid), can’t sit still or pay attention in class, doesn’t finish homework, etc etc. I was able to mask mine and function enough to get through school just riding pretty much on my humanities grades alone. It sucked a lot but I somehow did it. I had an IEP (Individual Education Plan, which is a US school thing for kids with learning disabilities and such that allows for accommodations and assistance in school) but it didn’t do much except I think give me extra time on math tests because of my dyscalculia (I was in Special Ed Math my whole grade school career). My mother is an OT but I also think that (as you said) ADHD in afab people often manifests differently than in amab people, so I guess my parents just didn’t know what to look for and that’s why I never really got the same help as my brother.

I like to jokingly categorize ADHD into two distinct but overlapping types: Fast ADHD and Mush Brain ADHD. Fast ADHD (in my opinion; this may vary from person to person) is the classic stereotype symptoms. Fast ADHD’s focus problem is too much happening all at once. Lots of thoughts and ideas flying by and you get distracted mid-thought with another thought, or your train of thought gets really crazy but is super fast so your reply to someone’s comment might not make much sense to anyone else because they weren’t privy to your brain’s journey, or you go down a focus worm-hole and sit and do One Thing all day and forget to surface for things like food/water/bathroom. Fast ADHD has more energy (though when paired with depression that usually manifests as restlessness or anxiety) and is quicker to pick up new things. Mush Brain ADHD is kind of the opposite. Thoughts take longer, or you think of something and then it almost immediately disappears (for example, scrolling a website, seeing something that you want to google, you scroll for like 5 more seconds and think “wait, I completely forget what I was going to look up”). With Mush Brain ADHD it’s harder to have conversations because thought-to-mouth time is slower, rather than (with Fast Brain) lots of stuff is going on up there. Mush Brain often feels like, well, mush and like you can’t really form thoughts very well if you want to do stuff. It’s like you’re trying to focus on thinking a thought but it just slides away. Another way I’d describe it is having thoughts but it’s like they’re on a blackboard and they’re being erased as you think them, so they end up mostly smears. Obviously, this is just based on my own experiences as a Mush Brain ADHD person while my brother has Fast Brain ADHD, so this might be different for other people.

Both have lots of overlaps: executive dysfunction (that’s the big one), insomnia, auditory processing problems, hyperfixation (which is not a bad thing! I love my hyperfixations! They’re fun!), absolutely crap organizational skills, constantly losing things, really bad perception of time, detachment from the world (like you drift off into your own daydream, or things feel distant, but not quite the same as depersonalization/dissociating),  difficulty making choices, sensory processing disorder, crap abilities with money, rejection sensitive dysphoria, and often comorbid mental illnesses like depression, OCD, anxiety, dyscalculia/dyslexia, etc.

 Oh, and a lot of ADHD characteristics also overlap with depression characteristics (and a lot of people with ADHD have comorbid depression, so it really doesn’t help).

But I can tell you about my own experiences with some of these.

The Big One which is basically what that schrodingers motivation post is about, is executive dysfunction. People also call it procrastination (it only kind of is) or inertia. Basically, executive dysfunction is where the difficulty lies in starting the task. You want to do something, but you just can’t get going to do it. You get sort of paralyzed. It even happens with things you like. For example, when I made that post, there was a short (just over 100 pgs) book I wanted to read before the end of the day. It’s a good book! It’s on my reading list! I want to read it! But I just sat on my computer and watched dumb youtube videos because that’s what I was already doing and executive dysfunction makes starting tasks really hard. This happens to me a lot. It can happen with reading a book, or getting up to go to the store and buy groceries, or making a meal, or watching a movie. The movie-watching one happens to me a lot. Basically it’s the brain struggling to switch tasks; you’re scrolling tumblr, and that’s what your brain is focused on, and it doesn’t know how to switch from doing that to doing your bio homework or folding the laundry or whatever the task may be. This happens with “bigger” or more complex tasks too, like starting an art project or starting a new book, because your brain has to figure out all the components of that task (I need these items for my project and this amount of time and I need to use them in this order) which is overwhelming, or it needs to comprehend how “big” the task is (how much time/concentration should I try and commit to in order to read this book) which is sometimes hard to gauge. Oh, also this can happen if you’re interrupted in the middle of a task, whether it’s to do another thing or just to answer a question or something; it’s hard to get back to it because it’s another kind of switching tasks. Aside from the blackboard-being-wiped-thoughts, this is my biggest ADHD problem. I can go more into how I dealt with executive dysfunction in college and now if you want!

Auditory processing issues is another thing that I deal with, although to a lesser extent than some people. It just means it’s harder for your brain to process sounds/talking. Part of this, for me, is because if someone is talking to me but there’s other noises (music, other conversations, general loudish ambiance) going on around us, my brain treats them all as equally important and I can’t focus in on the person talking. Another part for me is in my experience I seem to process conversation different from explanation. If I’m talking back and forth with someone about something and it’s not terribly important, I’m fine. If they’re trying to explain something to me, give me instructions, or read a passage of text to me, it just does not stick in my brain. If I’m helping my best friend with her grad school applications, I have to read the sentence she’s asking me check, I can’t have her read it to me. If she does read it to me, I’ve realized that I try to imagine the words as text in my head so I comprehend it better (it doesn’t always work). Auditory processing issues means that a lot of my conversations in public with people who are not my close friends (and therefore easier to pick out from the noise because familiar and/or easier to predict because familiar) are filled with a lot of me going “what?” Retail conversations with customers are slightly easier because there’s at least a mild “script” that they’ll stick to, usually.

Another one I experience is organizational problems. This one was bad enough that I actually went to a tutor-like thing to help me with it for most of grade school. Basically, I had no ability to organize tasks like doing homework or other activities, so things would get forgotten/lost/never even written in the calendar/etc. I couldn’t do projects because I couldn’t (and still kinda can’t) organize far enough into the future. I didn’t know how to break the project down across multiple days or weeks and make it manageable without totally forgetting pieces of it. I’d forget to write down homework when the teacher wrote it on the board, or I’d write it down but forget to do it. Or I’d do it but misplace it or leave it at home. My perception of time was also really crap; I couldn’t read an analogue clock until I was in maybe 6th grade? Even now I sometimes have trouble. It was hard to know how much time I had to allot to certain projects because I didn’t really have good perception of how hours fit in the day and how much time until homework is due and stuff. (Which meant lots of finishing things in class minutes before I had to turn it in and stuff. Once in uni I completely forgot to do an Entire Essay; luckily it wasn’t a class I needed to graduate.)

Along with this is losing EVERYTHING. I misplace things CONSTANTLY. I’ll put something that’s in my hand down to get a cup of tea or something, or even just to like, move a blanket, and I’ll forget where I put it. I’ve solved this problem with Important Things (wallet, phone, and keys always go next to my bed, for example, and rarely move from there if they’re not in my pocket. All important papers go in my Important Papers Folder as soon as soon as possible) but I lose regular stuff all the time. I’ll be working on an art project, I’ll put my glue stick down to reach for a piece of paper, and lose the glue stick in the time it takes to pull the paper towards me. The other day I was brushing my teeth and I put the toothbrush cover down to say hello to the cat and forgot where I had put it down once I had followed her to the next room. When things have a Place it’s easier, but I’ve learned to live with going “Where the FUCK did I put this thing? I had it a second ago!” at least once a day.

The “Mush” in “Mush Brain” is another big one for me. I don’t know if this has, like, a name? Or anything? It’s just what I call it. The best description for it would either be that blackboard description from above, or like you’re struggling to get to a thought through a lot of mud. Oftentimes I’ll have a sort of concept of a thought but not something full, and I know it’s there, but I can’t get to it. This is really apparent when I’m trying to remember a synonym for something, or trying to elaborate on certain concepts or pull ideas from texts. It doesn’t happen all the time. I was an English lit major in uni, so this affected me a lot back then. It’s sort of a similar feeling to reading the same sentence over and over and not registering the words, except it’s in your own brain instead. This kind of goes away for me when I’m writing/typing. Writing this out is easy (minus me forgetting the word executive dysfunction for like 5 minutes) but if you were asking me to explain this aloud I would struggle, probably. This is probably because I can stare at what I’ve written to see what’s missing or edit my thoughts, which I can’t do while I’m speaking, and also can’t do to other people’s interactions with me.

Just a general inability to focus is also one I struggle with. It goes with the “mush brain” to an extent but I think it’s different. It’s more like my brain doesn’t want to, well, focus on anything. If I’m just messing around on my laptop, that means I end up clicking back and forth between tabs endlessly because nothing is holding my interest. If I’m trying to read or do anything “intellectual” or “academic” it means I just can’t get myself to read or I can’t keep my thoughts on what I’m trying to write no matter how hard I try. Nothing holds my interest for long enough, it’s like brain restlessness. I try and concentrate on doing something, watching something, reading something, and my brain just slides away from it.

Rejection sensitive dysphoria is something I experience on a more minor level. It’s something that also overlaps with anxiety and depression. Basically, it’s a really intense emotional reaction to (perceived) rejection. For example, if my best friend says something to me with a certain tone or gets mad at me for doing something minor, my brain just goes “She hates you! She doesn’t want to be friends with you! You should isolate in your room and never speak to anyone again because you’re so annoying and terrible!” I know that’s mostly incorrect (although I also know I’m quite annoying and that’s another ADHD characteristic; knowing you’re annoying someone in some way and having no idea how to stop) so I can fight it but sometimes I do end up holing up in my room for a little bit. Things like criticism (whether towards you or towards, like, an essay or something) can also trigger this reaction. So can things like having an expectation that you’ll be good at something, and then failing at it or just not being as good as you’d hoped. (I developed a sort of defense mechanism for this one of never expecting to be good at things and never expect higher than a C in a class.) It also can come with a sense of feeling inferior around people doing similar things. It happens to me a lot here on tumblr, actually, because I’ll write a meta about something, and then read someone else’s good meta on the same thing, and feel like I’m an idiot and they’re really smart and nothing that I wrote was insightful or good. It happened to me in uni a lot too. It also happens to me kind of...secondhand, now. What I mean is, my best friend/roommate is extremely smart. Like genuinely one of the smartest people I know and an incredible thinker, straight A’s at uni in a degree she created, etc. She still gets imposter syndrome herself and feels like she’s not smart, and when she says she’s not smart, I feel bad for her but I also feel really terrible about myself, because if she thinks she’s stupid, then what am I? But again, it’s an overreaction to perceived rejection. It still sucks though.

There’s some evidence that ADHD comes with a whacked out sleep schedule. And not just insomnia (although that too, I know this because it’s 7am and I haven’t slept yet lol), but also Delayed Sleep Phase Disorder. Which basically means that most people’s circadian rhythms start slowing down so they’ll go to sleep around like 11pm-1am-ish, give or take. ADHD circadian rhythms are shifted so often we start getting tired around 3am or even 4 or 5am. (This is different from insomnia, btw, with DSPD you can fall asleep fairly easily, you just get tired later in the night; with insomnia it’s an inability to or difficulty in falling asleep quickly.) I always thought I’d just gotten my dad’s night owl genes, but it’s more likely that it’s the ADHD. I also have at least mild insomnia and it takes me a million years to fall asleep a lot of the time.

Hyperfixations are the Fun part of having ADHD (in my opinion). They can get in the way sometimes but they’re also really comforting and nice. Hyperfixations happen when you find an interest and it’s basically all you want to think or talk about, and you relate to the world through it, and you want to learn everything about it. It’s also a characteristic of autism. I’m not autistic, so I don’t know if there are major differences between ADHD hyperfixation experiences and autism ones. Anyway, often hyperfixations stick with you for a good amount of time, depending on the strength, and then you might find something else to focus on. Some of my hyperfixations have lasted a few months, some up to 4 years. A lot of ADHD people rotate through the same or similar ones. For example, a hyperfixation I had back in 2011-2014/15ish was Les Miserables. I then found a different thing to hyperfixate on. This past year I have returned to Les Mis. Hyperfixations are usually pretty cool, because it’s usually something you really like and enjoy learning about or doing and it’s kind of like the thing your brain would rather be doing/focusing on.

Personally, I’ve lived so long without ADHD medication that I’m fairly functional without it just due to coming up with personal adaptations and stuff. The thing that I have the hardest time with/that upsets me the most is the Mush Brain part, which also gets worse when my depression gets worse. I really would love to have clear, quick thoughts whenever I want. It’s frustrating to hold a conversation or try to write creatively and quickly when it takes forever for thoughts to fully crystallize in my brain and then come out my mouth or fingers. Right now I don’t have very good health insurance (all blame to covid layoffs) so I can’t really do the meds thing but I often wish I could. My ADHD is definitely not as intense or severe as some people’s. I have friends, and also my brother, who struggle a lot more than I do, and with different things

Holy hell this was so long. Feel free to message me if you have any questions! Or if you want me to elaborate on some of the things I do to deal with stuff.