State of the ADHD, late July 2020:

(Post inspired partially by reading a couple of really good threads (one link, the secondary thread is sub-nestled) on twitter about ADHD brain management, partially inspired by the fact that there's a global pandemic on and everyone's mental health is *shit* so why not put extra work into it right now.)

( Stuff that's working )

( Stuff that's not working (CW: pandemic Feels, just mental health stuff no physical) )

***

My stuff that's working pile was so nice and organized and easy, and my stuff that's not working pile is really rambly and disorganized, and I think we can all figure out which half of this entry I wrote in the middle of the day yesterday when I was right smack in the middle of my meds and which half I wrote today past midnight which means probably after the 12 hour dose has worn off ha ha haaaaa.

Gonna post this and move on with my life. I'm working on my brain. I'll try not to hell zone. Feel free to tell me what is and isn't working for your brains. Please feel free to flagrantly steal ideas and shit. I love y'all. <3

~Sor
MOOP!

1: Current streak: 75 days. I have missed two days since November 25th, 2018, one day since December 8th, 2018. Zero days since May.

The first three(?) years you're teaching at my district, while you still don't have Professional Status¹, you have to do two evidence submissions a year -one in December, and one in late April. The evidence file is a big ol' pile of "proof that I am a good teacher". There's about 35 standards set by the district, that you ought to be working towards.

(Those standards sit in four strands, which are how you get ranked at the end of the year -Unsatisfactory, Needs Improvement, Satisfactory, Exemplary. You don't get Professional Status unless, by the end of your third year, you're hitting Satisfactory and Exemplary in all four strands. Last year I went from 2 unsatisfactory and 2 needs improvement in the mid-year, to 2 needs improvement and 2 satisfactory. And I got hired back, which is really the important part.)

Last year, it was due December 15th. I turned it in on January 16th, after some really explicit and pointed nagging from my boss. It was...not optimal.

This year the mid-year file was due December 14th. I signed it in at 9:37pm. The big file with too many words is a *third* the length of last year's, which is a _really good thing_ --it means I'm being better at "show don't tell" and also means that my boss doesn't have to slog through sixteen fucking pages of information. My evidence file actually turned out to be *shorter* than my Unit Four was, by about 2.5k words.

I make up for it in moving pieces. Unit four needed a summary, the lesson plans, a cover sheet, and a signed thing from your mentor. My evidence has 25 separate files covering 18 different pieces of evidence that I Am A Good Teacher And You Should Not Fire Me Please. I got to learn how to use the scanner in the office! I got to walk around the school while all the lights were off and it was eerie as shit because it's only lit by glowing red exit signs!!

I still have _no idea_ if I'm doing this right, or how to best optimize it. Unfortunately, the person who could best tell me is my boss, and she actually *can't* give me all that much advice here. But I feel a more confident with this one than I did the end-year last year. (I feel a _lot_ more confident than last year's mid-year, that thing was a mess.)

And I am incredibly heartbreakingly impressed with myself that I have managed to hit under the deadline for two *really serious* professional things in two weeks. Not having either my Unit Four or my Evidence hanging over my head is making me feel giddy, and it's barely been twenty minutes. Maybe now the _really shitty_ month can be over and I can just enjoy things for a bit.

And grade.

~Sor
MOOP!

1: The guarantee that I get to stay. That the union will totally and entirely have my back. That I can't get fired unless I actually fuck up. That the dream job becomes a dream career.

That I can come out as agender and start using the correct pronouns at work instead of wanting to cry every time I think about how much it hurts to lie like this.

So, last Tuesday I had an emo attack of the *worst* sort, which led to me curled up on the floor crying and holding my boxcutter. Not cutting myself, not cutting anything else (although I was tempted to butcher my jeans just as an outlet) just playing with it. Eventually, my brain kicked in and went all "hurr, you're a writer, why don't you write on yourself instead of not-cut yourself. Doesn't hurt anyone!"

So...I did. I wrote an exceptionally emo poem called "Litany of Hate" using myself as the canvas. I wrote it mostly on my arms and legs, and have done my best to reproduce the not COMPLETELY behind the walls bits here:

( Said poem. An unhealthy combination of emo and 'Why Sorcy is effed up' version point whatever beneath the cut. Own risk, blabla )

So! Results.

( In which Sorcy does manage to metadiscuss the above poem and some of the ramifications it had on her, but also spends quite a bit of time digressing about movies, being distractable, and plotting lesbian biblophiliac porn. )

Logically, I think the next thing to do would be an analysis of the poem itself, but I'm bored of writing this, and will do so later. (Later here having a meaning of broken'never'. [/scruffy!Norrington]) I'm off to go scrawl down random things in the writersjournal about bits of world that I have been building since sixth grade. Ta!

~Sor
MOOP!

(((Apropos of nothing, I appear to have coined a new term in the dictionary of useful Kat-stuffs. Before the Walls. It's the general equivilant of things that are behind the walls, except that you lot get to read it.)))

Postscript: My English class is rubbing off on me. I actually went back and fixed the text of the second cut so that it had proper parrallelism. On a side note, what does ETA mean? I got that it's some sort of "I edited this" shorthand, but I don't actually know the rest.

...Shit.

Crying sucks. *pouts* I hate this.

And no, I don't need to talk about it. Or rather, I do, and I have. So yes.

~Sor
MOOP!

And now, right before I turn off comments, and make this post avaliable to teh world, I'm forced to think about myself.
Never a pleasent task that is.
Oddly, I'm not thinking of that which is making me cry right now. I'm thinking of attention whoring, and wanting to be the star. Which really does happen to me a lot.

Take this post for instance. I don't want hugs, or sympathy, or lendings of ears. I'm specifically turning off comments so I don't have to deal with anyone saying anything that would just upset me. So why am I even posting this?

Logically, it's for the attention. Yet that attention which I need, I have been given in the form of conversations with those more intelligent then myself. I don't *want* attention from the rest of you, for one reason or another, mostly because I don't know you well enough, or I don't want you to know me that well.

And for all of those going "Shock and Awe! Kat doesn't trust me!!" don't feel bad. I don't trust a good 96% or so of the people I know. Not with myself, or my thoughts and feelings and emotions. Not with what lies Behind the Walls.

And yes, all of the people who I do tend to let further behind the walls ARE people I know online. This doesn't mean I don't like the rest of you well enough, I do, and I highly enjoy spending time with the most of you. But somehow, having that extra level of removal from the version of my world that exists in this reality, makes it easier for me to let you see me.

Perhaps this is because, even though I intend to meet all three of the people I've been confiding/ranting/bitching to, there is still at least some level of anonymity.

...Holy shit, I just spelled that right on the first try. Wow.

Right, right, back to what I was saying.

I don't know. I just really don't know. I'm a very private person, while I gladly (and ocassionally loudly) share my thoughts and ideas, I keep my feelings and emotions very hidden. I also tend to keep issues I'm having to myself, only asking for advice when I come to a total loss.

Could this be pride? It may be --it fit's the descriptions. I could very well be too prideful to ask for help, and that, paired with my own cynicsism could be a large part of why I tend not to trust people.

But what were we talking about at the start? Attention-whoring? Somewhere in my personal writings, there exists a sequence of words that, I believe reads, "I am an attention whore with stage fright." It is always a frustrating thing when I look back on myself and find that I'm being incredibly fucking RIGHT, and fitting whatever situation perfectly. I am, in fact an attention whore, I have known this for some time, and I try to realize when I'm being stupid for attention, which is never a good thing. And, although I don't believe stage fright is quite the right word at all, I DO avoid the spotlight. I hate being fawned over, which makes crying an absolute nightmare. Because people are good, and nice, and friendly, and because I have been good and nice and friendly to them, they feel obligated to come over and crowd around me and ask if I want to talk (which I generally don't) and if I'm alright (Which I'm sure as hell not, but I'm not going to tell you that). And really, when I get to the point where I'm crying, I reeeeeeeeeally don't want you to pay any attention whatsoever to me. I want you to ignore me, and do what you're doing, and let me find my happy spot and just melt back into the real world at my own sweet pace.

Did I ever tell you folk about the breakdown I had back in...October? It's what sparked a lot of things, including my getting therepy, and sequentially, my getting ADD testing and diagnosed with ADHD. It was...not a good thing. I was re-reading things I wrote while I was having it, and it is...scary. It's scary to remember the fact that, I really was caught in a thought-stream, and had NO FUCKING WAY OUT. The thoughts really were just too fast and too intense, and there was nothing I could cling to to pull myself out.

My saving grace with that one was that it was during a test. Yes, this did meant that I really only finished half of the timed essay, and had to make up the rest later, but it meant I *couldn't* have people fawning over me crazily. And I think that if I *had* had that, I would have snapped, and gone into full bitch mode, and possibly said some things that I would very much regret.

That might be part of the problem with my life. I get mad about as easily as anyone else, I figure, but unlike a lot of people, I really don't have any rational way to release my anger. Yes, I can try and play DDR if I'm at home (although Nik tends to invade) and I can always write and write and write, but in all truth, I don't think the latter really helps very much. It does less to clear the anger, and more to link it to everything else, like my mind links everything, and shut the anger away until the next time I need it. But I don't punch things, I don't scream, Alis won't let me bite my tongue or dig my nails into my palms or scratch up my arms (which were all things I used to do on a fairly regular basis until she came along...and theres a whole stream by itself) so I can't get rid of it through self-inflicted pain, and I always wind up feeling far too guilty to take it out on other people. So generally, when the emotions get to be too much, I wind up crying, writing in a notebook, or both.

And neither activity really condones having a lot of people standing around staring at me with worried looks on their faces and asking if I'm alright.

Also, I noted the other day that when I'm in an especially people-hating sour mood, I go very quiet. This is primarily to keep myself from yelling at people, and I figured it out by watching a friend, who was bitchy and WAS yelling at people. So really, if I go quiet on you and detach myself from the group, I probably really would prefer to be left alone.

*laughs bitterly* My own silly memories. Like bowling. To date, Eric is STILL the only person who has ever managed to figure out the above without my telling them. He's a good lad.

*thinks*

This turned out rather further then I suspected. I meant to discuss attention-whorism, and figure out what I could possibly gain by posting my above post. I still don't know, other then the fact that I HAVE gained a lovely bit of SoC (Stream of Conciousness)

It's odd, thinking about it. When it comes to writing, I think of myself as a fairly good fiction/fantasy writer. But when I write SoC, I find myself IMMENSELY more eloquent. I prefer the subject matter, perhaps? Or maybe I just write best when I really am in such a quiet mood. If life tells me right, I do recieve more, or better compliments on my SoC peices then my stories.

Somehow, that depresses me a little. Perhaps because this is never how I've seen myself when I've said I wanted to be a writer?

Another thing I've figured out, which I don't remember if I ever posted here, is a bit of mathmatical ratio type stuff. I figure that about 80 or so percent of my time, I am happy, or at the very least, indifferent on the positive side of the mood spectrum. I also figure that, out of all my emotional intensity, about 75 percent or so of it comes from or out of that 20 percent of the time where I'm *not* happy. Do negitive emotions just mean more, or do they just stick better? And I know I can get happiness highs, I've done it before, but it's much harder to remember them, and how they feel when I'm feeling negitive then it is to remember the low's I've hit when I'm feeling positive. Do I really just hate myself?

I feel so disjointed. No doubt that if I went back and actually read this peice, I would agree with the fact that I *am* being disjointed, and that I'm very much letting myself swirl about the thought-stream. Controlled though. I try to avoid letting myself be in it uncontrolled, the results are rarely pretty.

*sigh* I have to go babysit. In all truth, I only may or may not actually be around on AIM, and if I am,I only may or may not want to talk. So ta.

...And I turned comments back on. The first few lines though, the first post...that is not to be commented on. Alright?

~Sorcyress
MOOP!