Boredom, repetition, and tedium.

ADHD has this wonderful feature about it. Boredom, repetition, and tedium can be absolute torture to an ADHD brain. I recall as a child having a whole bunch of activities I could do, and it was all up to me to choose one, but being so bored with those things and feeling so uncomfortable in that boredom.

Repetition = tedium = boredom. It’s a trifecta of discomfort and enough to make any ADHD’r cringe internally. We enjoy challenges, novelty, high pressure situations, jobs that make us think, all the antithesis of the trifecta. Repetition is the one key component to practice, and practice makes perfect. Therefore, many of us are “jack of all trades” and “master of none”.

When forced to repetition and confined, unchanging environments, we can become emotionally depressed. Generally, we do not do well in situations that require a ton of patience, or react well when forced to redo a difficult task. Frustration can set in, which can lead to anger. Many of us internalize these feelings and it can lead to being extremely negative and depressed. I believe it’s so important that ADHD people get diagnosed and seek treatment before they reach this point.

 

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Chemicals in our brains.

I have to come here to say how much better I’m doing lately. I finally began to see a psychiatrist, and although he is brief in his appointments with me, he has been instrumental in how much happier I am lately. I am actually looking forward to more life and realizing how much of it I’ve wasted being lost in depression the last few years.

It’s tough to think about sometimes but, the visceral reactions we experience when we feel emotions, the very real, physical ones… all of this comes down to the amounts of chemical in our brain and body. Dopamine. That one thing has created an extremely different life than I would have ever imagined. I am not a normal person. I have ADHD. I don’t even think ADHD is a great name for it, because I don’t feel it encompasses the absolute, world shifting, life changing disease for what it really is. While the simple explanation is, really, just dopamine.

Serotonin is what I was originally being treated for. I believe that it is most likely the drugs that treat serotonin deficiencies that get prescribed to many, like myself, who actually need an SDRI. It was the primary reason I really suffered for so many years after really understanding that I had depression. It was not treating what my brain was really lacking, so therefore it only had the effect of lifting me up to a neutral level. It definitely saved me, without a doubt it was so important that I got treatment right away because I have no idea where my suicidal thoughts would have gone. It just isn’t the answer in the long term. I urge anyone who is taking SSRI’s and not feeling too great about them to go see a psychiatrist and get a proper diagnosis for your mental illness.

I am also finally taking Adderall, and while I am on a very low dose currently, the effect it’s had on me is incredible. Like many before me, the best way to explain the difference is when you take it for the first while, and then you don’t. You suddenly realize just how much more focused and able you were, how much less emotional, more rational, and it just goes on from there. You will be “back” to your “old self”, but having had a glimpse of what it really feels like to function like a “normal” person, you will have a great understanding of just how deficient some of our brain functions really are. Sometimes, though, the first medication is not the right one. I don’t know if this is the final answer, and as I go through the process of likely upping my dose and changing for a longer duration, I know I’m in for a lifetime of figuring out what works best at what times. Managing the medication and the way my brain is.

 

Rumours and Truths

I really enjoy Reddit for the ability to find like minded people out there in the world and know that the whole place isn’t going to shit. YES there are also terrible people on there, and lots of them. But I am heartened that all hope is not yet lost. It sounds dramatic, but I can’t help feeling the world is regressing in so many ways, and we are dooming ourselves every step of the way. Is that depression talking? Or is it just the state of the world right now? Being ADHD, I don’t remember facts that I read very well and unfortunately that means I’m not very good at debating or remembering why I feel a certain way about a topic. I have to re-research things often before I engage in a conversation about anything, and usually prefer written formats so I have time to gather my thoughts and put them into words, while doing the homework I need to do to back it up.

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I heard some news today that GRRM might just be closer to releasing The Winds of Winter! Haha, as if!

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I’ve been riding two horses lately, one a dark bay Thoroughbred named Jack. And my boy of course, Joey, a Morab gelding. Both boys are about 18-20 years old. Both have respiratory conditions that limits their abilities, but they are still capable horses that love to go out on the trail and enjoy meeting kids and dogs and nature along the way. My back limits my ability as well so it’s not too bad for either of us.

ASOIAF Podcast?

I want to start ASOIAF podcast. I need to do my homework on starting a podcast, but I also need to write out what it is I am going to talk about. Mostly I want to do my own take on the stories, explaining the family trees and reviewing the books chapter by chapter. I am not a great analyzer but I may get more insight from diving this in depth into the series.

I am hopeful that by writing about ASOIAF, perhaps here, I can start to plan out my scripts for each episode, and begin with mini-episodes to practice the whole thing.

The more podcasts I listen to, I more I want to do it.


 

Hmm…

I love food!

But I hate cooking! I wish I could also stand in the kitchen without pain. My hips and legs have stabbing pains sometimes (most of the time) if I’m on my feet. I really love good food now, thanks to my boyfriend who introduced me to more ethnic foods, and then took it a step further by showing me the difference between quality ingredients, spices, etc.

He cooks for me when he’s able to, and I love it! He harvest the herbs that I grow and uses them for cooking us food. He makes a delicious shepherd’s pie with ground turkey that I love. We really enjoy going out for Indian food, Italian, Mexican, Japanese, and more as well, and are interested in taking some Indian cooking lessons together someday!

I look forward to being able to cook a decent meal one day, without having to strictly follow a recipe perhaps?

My Grandmother.

Where do I even begin. I guess the easy stuff. She’s French-Canadian, white, about 5’4″ tall, with a big overbite. She wears dentures and hates the dentist. She is 74 years old. She has had 1 stillbirth, and then had my dad and following him, his sister. My grandmother has has breast cancer and has had to have a double mastectomy. Her mother and her aunt also had breast cancer. Supposedly she was tested for a hereditary gene, and was found not to have it, so thank goodness for that.

She speaks fluent Canadian French, she was born and raised in a French Canadian town outside of Quebec, and moved to British Columbia at some point where she lived in a French community as a part of a larger city. She married my grandfather, also a French Canadian, Metis man. He has the features of the indigenous, with dark hair, darker complexion, and dark, nearly black eyes. He passed these features onto my aunt, his daughter, but my dad, his son, looks like his mother. Blonde hair and blue eyes.

I earliest memories of my Grandmother are sweet. She loves children and as such, I was treated well by her. While she could be stern and bossy, she was animated with us kids around and loved to show us how to do crafts and to be creative. She herself is an accomplished artist, as well as a musician, sewer, computer user, and she is somewhat savvy in the kitchen. I recall several holidays where there were complaints of dry turkey. I typically smothered mine in gravy and have always preferred tough, chewy meat. So it depends on your own tastes I suppose. I have never disliked the food she made me. I still enjoy porridge and natural peanut butter, and lamb. All things I had while at their house as a kid. Perhaps one of the reasons she loves kids is because they don’t judge her.

I know there are a lot of people out there who adore her, and I have to admit that she is a ┬ávery remarkable person who isn’t easy to forget. She stands out to me as a person because of her talents, her outrageous mind, and because I feel I have a lot of her traits and I see myself in her sometimes. Unfortunately, she is extremely difficult to get along with. Recently I’ve had the opportunity to spend a lot more time with her than I normally choose to (usually 2-3 times a year). I know that sounds bad, but life is busy, they don’t call me often either and it’s not a huge desire of mine to see her.

My memories growing up recall a lot of laughing about my grandmother and talking about her behind her back by almost all of the adults around me. My immediate and extended families, my friends, everyone. She is remarkable in that she is able to offend so easily, not give a shit what anyone thinks, and get extremely emotional for almost no apparent reason. All things I am terrified of being myself. Those things she does cause people to talk about her. I would hear all the comments, people don’t think kids listen but they do.

She is religious and her faith is her rock, for sure. She expresses how much God, Jesus, and prayer has helped her have a good life, healed her illness and injuries, blessed our family, etc. and consistently reminds me that I was forced to ask Jesus into my heart as a child because I didn’t know any better. I am not religious today, and I feel extremely anxious about mentioning that to her, family always warning me about doing so. She has been known to yell, hang up the phone, cry, and more on people in the family for less. In person I don’t know how I would feel, but I know it wouldn’t be good. She’s excellent at making people feel guilt for not being religious.

I offered to drive her to church since my Grandfather is in care with his daughter while being diagnosed with possible stroke. She took it immediately as I wanted to go to church with her. It’s like I feel I’m going to break her heart if I tell her I don’t want to. I mumble something and I’ll just try to forget it and hope she doesn’t ask again. She recalls memories with vivid detail, but her memory of the present is not very good recently I’ve noticed. It’s heartbreaking in a way, because both of my grandmothers are now at this stage and I find them telling me the same things quite often. I don’t remind them that they’ve told me because I know it would make them feel bad.

I try very hard to be a good granddaughter, but grandma pushes me to my limits in regards to my ability to sit and listen to her for hours on end. I am not exaggerating. She talks and talks, and how she keeps herself going is by getting sidetracked by herself over and over again. I know that an easy way to avoid answering something or listening to something you don’t want to hear is to change the subject, usually by pointing out something in the environment. She’s very easily distracted. Thank goodness, because just a few days ago I was given the opportunity to hear how my grandpa has been worried he’s impotent but they had sex after he put his hand on her sore back to warm it up. At my aunt’s house too. It’s so very hard to listen to things like this, and it’s not limited to anyone either. Medical marvels and religion, conspiracy theories, all are parts of the rambling monologue that she goes on. She will interrupt anyone and everyone, and will talk even if you interject. I try very hard to be a good granddaughter.

My grandpa is a saint, I guess. He is a good listener. Most of the family thinks she might be driving him crazy. I wouldn’t be surprised. He works to keep busy all the time, and it’s obviously because he can’t stand to be cooped up with her all day long! Grandma has mentioned he has even gone to see if I’m at the barn where I keep my horse! Yet I never receive a phone call, I’ve tried to call and text him and arrange it but never heard back. I would have loved to spend more time with him. I hope to when he recovers and he is back home.

Grandma is also a Trump supporter. A Canadian supporter, obviously. She watches all sorts of religious junk on TV and eats up whatever they say. She believes in all sorts of conspiracy theories and junk science, plus her religion makes her proclaim things like how homosexuals aren’t born that way in front of whoever might be around. It’s so embarrassing. She has brought these things up at holidays and dinners, and it’s up to the family to change the subject. Lately I hear that everyone is worried she will leave her money to some church in the US instead of her kids. Well, Grandpa’s money. She has never worked a job in her life, just raised the two kids. She believes Trump is ordained by God, and that abortion is wrong, of course, and many many other things. It’s difficult to have a conversation about just about anything without hearing a tirade about one of these subjects!

Unfortunately, I have the privilege of being the closest family member living near her since her and my grandfather moved within 10 minutes of me!

 

It’s gorgeous outside, but it’s stormy in my head.

I have never felt more alone in my life. I can’t talk to anyone around me about what I’m going through. My head is so screwed up. I feel like I’m drowning and running out of air and screaming silently for help. I don’t have confidence in the medical system to help me. They’ve been so difficult to deal with and it’s been such a long ordeal with my back and my head, trying to sort it out with a GP who literally asks me the most inane questions. Not to mention the incredibly long amount of waiting one has to do in our medical system. Canada may be great for its health care coverage, but while you sit and suffer, your life just slips by. Years go by.

I don’t know how long I will be able to manage my head and living my life like this. I get so little joy out of life anymore. Nobody and nothing mean anything. I feel so numb yet so overwrought with emotion all the time. I’m the only person suffering though. I am the only one who has to live this way. Nobody I care about does, and they can’t help me, so there is no point in talking to them about it. I tried today, but it wasn’t the right time. I broke down but had to stop myself before it became too much.

I can’t bear my thoughts on days like this where I am unable to get past the depression. I can feel myself fighting within, the positivity and the will to survive pushing back against the depressive negative garbage that fills me up. But it’s getting so weak. I don’t think anybody would care if I were here or not. It’s not like they bother with me now that I am. Does that make me selfish? I feel that I have tried hard to care, to put myself out there, to be a good friend and a good member of my family. It just ends up being me that has to do all the work, and I don’t recall a time recently where anyone has truly made me feel like they cared and wanted to listen to me other than maybe my grandmother. I can’t be as frank with her as I’d like to be though, because I care about her too much. I can’t tell her how I am so depressed I want to die sometimes. How do you tell somebody that without hurting them?

My mother is so distant and far away, I want so bad to be close with her. I don’t know how. I feel like giving up. She shows so little interest when I talk to her. My dad is so difficult because he just likes to be left to his own devices most of the time. Neither of them have spent time with me over the course of my life, especially never showing interest in the things I loved. My dad has never been out to see the horses and the riding I love so much, perhaps there was one single time that I barely remember. If it was something that happened, and not merely a dream, then it was a brief visit and likely marked with his distaste. My frequent requests for him to participate in my life have almost always been answered with “I don’t like those things”, “I’m busy”, “we’ll see”, and so on.

It hurts me tremendously, and I’m ashamed to admit it. Here I am at 31, in a deep depression and feeling hurt by the inaction of my parents. While I suffered some verbal and emotional abuse, I had everything I needed, and loving grandparents to provide and support my brother and I when things weren’t great at home. I wished and wished when I was young I could have gone to live with them. As they age, I fear the day when I won’t have them to turn to. Thinking about it makes me not want to live to see it.

I have a huge extended family that loves to pretend it cares, but it doesn’t. They, and my immediate family, will harp on me about going to this family reunion every year, where people I’ve seen a couple handfuls of times in my life get together and pretend to care about each other. I barely remember them all, as most I know from my childhood, and since then I have been loathe to attend these events. Different boyfriends each time, a growing gap between my cousins and I because I was different, etc… lots of socializing, talking, visiting, NOT my cup of tea.

I just don’t know.