The Quirks, The Nuance, of Self

A maybe not so serious attempt to find gratitude in the distractions.

Isn’t it weird how often we obsess over what’s wrong with us? I mean, clearly it’s important. Clearly I want to know if there’s something functioning poorly in my body so I can either prevent it from getting worse or at the very least learn how to manage it better - make it tolerable. Make it livable. 

But, fuck. Do I need to know if I have ADHD? Or if I’m neurodivergent? Or dyslexic? Or OCD? Aren’t I just an accumulation of bad (or good) habits and poor (or good) conditioning that at some point down the line all came together to make me the silly, scatterbrained writer that I am? The one that uses scaffolding as a crutch in her writing. The one that finds distraction in doing the dishes just as much as she does in mapping out a new workout plan or hopping on amazon to research the best laptop sleeves and/or the best organization tools for my car? 

At some point, I’m just a lazy, overwhelmed, anxious, procrastinator that chews her nails and has a rash on her hip from stress-scratching, and it’s all just my own damn fault.

Look, someone left a bunch of corn and sunflower seeds on this post surrounding a garden of tulips…

Yes, I should drink more water.

Yes, I have been trying to get better about taking vitamins. 

I do squats when I’m feeling restless. I bought a treadmill on amazon. I have resistance bands and kettle bells and I lift weights from time to time. I have two gym memberships (that I never use).

I go to sleep when I’m tired. I let my body wake itself up in the morning.

Yes, I know gluten and I aren’t friends. I also know that dairy doesn’t like me all that much either. Do I stop eating them? … I try. So. Yes? 

I can recognize I have a problem. I can recognize the ways to make that problem smaller. And I can also recognize that sometimes it’s not a problem. Sometimes the solution to the problem is just letting the problem run its due course. Sometimes, you just have to find the beauty in the shit that gets in your way.

I can’t focus on one project at a time. Guess what? That’s fine. That’s actually pretty cool. That means I have multiple creative projects happening at once and hopefully one day they’ll all be finished, in their own time, and I’ll have tons to show for all my sporadic hard work. 

As for the nail biting and the stress rash: when my nails grow long and the rash disappears, it shows me I’m having a good time. What’s better than a sign from your body/unconscious mind that tells you you’re on a good path, am I right?

I have trouble focusing when there are too many things going on around me. I can’t deal with music playing on top of a television show at full volume and a dog barking and someone trying to have a conversation with me. That’s totally fair. And also… considerate? Why would I want to not give someone my undivided attention when we’re chatting about the weather or the dog’s bad breath or my existential dread?

I listen to jazz music while I write. I feel like it mirrors my style. 

Sometimes I stay in my PJs all day. Other times, I can recognize the true need for jeans and a t-shirt when the cognitive receptors aren’t firing on queue. 

I picked up polymer clay again a few months back. A couple months after that, I bought all the tools to start oil painting. Now I’m redownloading photoshop and indesign so I can edit photos and design a journal. 

I walk dogs. Regularly. Dogs that aren’t my own. Sometimes, I get paid for doing this. Sometimes, I don’t. But it gets me outside! 

From time to time, I do some digging. I make myself take tests. I get so overwhelmed that I actually search for solutions to make my brain ‘better,’ as if it’s somehow sick. But I’m always happier when I let myself be. I’m always happier when I take the hodgepodge of crazy that I am and I use it to be better. I feed back into myself. I redefine what it all means.

Why wouldn’t I want to be me? I’m quite lucky to be me. If the only struggle I have is myself, that’s something to be grateful for.