I can’t tell the difference anymore.
I was depressed as a side effect of my ADHD for so many years.
Then I learned how to manage it better.
There’s always a choice factor.
What to do, what to do…
Something positive, something destructive…?
Being positive is more fun but after a while you realize, or rather, I realize -I forget I’m the one who gets distracted, not you, necessarily, unless I’m boring you, which I think is safe to assume I probably am, but I’ll give you the benefit of the doubt- I realize that either way, happy, angry or sad, the fundamental problems persist.
I hate it when people aren’t straight up with me so I will try to be straight up with my reader.
It is wearing being tied to someone who basically has very little time for you.
A lot of people think I have so many advantages over them because I read a lot, use technology more, because I was born in the U.S., because my husband has a steady job.
I have no one to talk to when I’ve had a hard day.
Except my cats.
Sure I have a lot of friends but I’m not particularly close to any of them.
Not to the point where they’d support me if I ever needed a place to spend the night.
Of course not.
Why would I need a place to sleep?
I have a hard working husband and my parents are still alive.
It’s like I’m isolated on so many levels but none of them tangible.
How do I get support for things no one can see?
Have you ever tried to sort a Rubik’s Cube and all the little squares fall out?
It happens to me.
Every single time.
Since I was 8.
I feel like one of those Rubik’s Cubes I broke.
Waiting for someone to either come and fix me or throw me away.
Some quasi-genius child trying to get into classes for gifted white kids from Santa Barbara even though she has a free life pass.
Whatever happened to her?
Oh wait, that was me.
The question lingers…
Am I depressed?
Am I suicidal?
Am I fully functional?
Yes, no, and yes.
Am I lying to myself?