summer snow floofs and blue finches
Jul. 6th, 2022 10:49 pmit occurs to me that the reason i find the current everyone-has-ADHD-diagnosis (and i bet you do toooo) trend so off-putting to me personally is because my brother is *severely* ADHD and has been his entire life. it was so bad when he was younger that it was impossible to carry on a conversation with him. he dropped out of school at 13. his life has always been a constant mess and struggle, constant drama and wildly reckless destructive careless behavior.
So when highly accomplished people explain to me (these people have been in intensive weekly or bi-weekly therapy since covid if not longer, but especially since covid) that they have ADHD and "it explains so much!" and then start to point out all the ways that I also probably have ADHD, it is like someone who hallucinated a voice once deciding that they have schizophrenia.
no you don't.
you have no idea, really.
of course I do not say this to anyone. except for you, dear journal. who am i to take away from them a tool that might help them to function better.
but please just don't put it on me. my disorganization comes from trying to do too many things with my life at once, not from a neurological disorder.
...
had a really nice hike up dog mountain today. i went super fast and i am super tired. as was intended. i ate too much for dinner but i worked extra hard so maybe it's good to replenish and build on the work i accomplished, a little bit.
such a nice mental reset.
the suicidal thoughts have faded away.
it was so, so beautiful up there. i've hiked it in may and august, but never july. i love the faded flowers and warm breezes.
...
there is a phenomenon that happens in portland in july that i love love love so much.
we get poplar fluff, but it's not really very noticeable. unless the light hits it just right.
there were snow globe moments on the drive home, tonight.
when i went soaking monday, i could see it against the crystal clear blue skies for miles and miles, when i laid on the wooden bench and looked up, the sun blocked from my eyes by a wooden cross-beam above me. they fly around up there and absolutely fill the sky with a soft fluffy summer snowy dance. as far as the eye can see upwards. it's not something that is visible without just the right angle of sunlight, but it's always there. filling the sky with silent softness.
there was some kind of tiny blue songbird eating the balsamroot seeds that looked like goldfinches except that where the yellow would be they were bright, vibrant blue. what were they? i've never seen them before. they were not mountain bluebirds, those don't have the black and white finch colored wings. these did.
So when highly accomplished people explain to me (these people have been in intensive weekly or bi-weekly therapy since covid if not longer, but especially since covid) that they have ADHD and "it explains so much!" and then start to point out all the ways that I also probably have ADHD, it is like someone who hallucinated a voice once deciding that they have schizophrenia.
no you don't.
you have no idea, really.
of course I do not say this to anyone. except for you, dear journal. who am i to take away from them a tool that might help them to function better.
but please just don't put it on me. my disorganization comes from trying to do too many things with my life at once, not from a neurological disorder.
...
had a really nice hike up dog mountain today. i went super fast and i am super tired. as was intended. i ate too much for dinner but i worked extra hard so maybe it's good to replenish and build on the work i accomplished, a little bit.
such a nice mental reset.
the suicidal thoughts have faded away.
it was so, so beautiful up there. i've hiked it in may and august, but never july. i love the faded flowers and warm breezes.
...
there is a phenomenon that happens in portland in july that i love love love so much.
we get poplar fluff, but it's not really very noticeable. unless the light hits it just right.
there were snow globe moments on the drive home, tonight.
when i went soaking monday, i could see it against the crystal clear blue skies for miles and miles, when i laid on the wooden bench and looked up, the sun blocked from my eyes by a wooden cross-beam above me. they fly around up there and absolutely fill the sky with a soft fluffy summer snowy dance. as far as the eye can see upwards. it's not something that is visible without just the right angle of sunlight, but it's always there. filling the sky with silent softness.
there was some kind of tiny blue songbird eating the balsamroot seeds that looked like goldfinches except that where the yellow would be they were bright, vibrant blue. what were they? i've never seen them before. they were not mountain bluebirds, those don't have the black and white finch colored wings. these did.