Mission Impossible in Current Events

On my way to work this morning, I felt like the cosmos was punishing me for recent epic failures. It’s just like me to play the victim. I was born for this role. If something can go wrong, it is going to go wrong. That’s the vibe. If I could afford to cry over spilled milk, I would. Instead, I’ll be a big baby about it on PB because that doesn’t count.

At the end of the day, I have great problems. I wouldn’t trade my problems with anyone. I have far better problems today than I did a year ago. I am perplexed, however, by my inability to feel content and happy. I want to enjoy what I do but I can’t. Then I have to remind myself that ADHD is a dopamine deficiency. It’s just one deficiency after another with me. I am not interested in medication. I am curious about medication, however. I want to experience the difference.

ADHD does come with God mode. If I could harness that power, I feel like I could have the world at my feet. Dopamine inhibits my motivation, as I now understand. Emotional regulation is the skill I need to learn. This is what I am working on with my therapist. I haven’t been very open to what he wants from me. I don’t have the soul-crushing weight of school anymore so I should go all in. Doing things my way is not going to work. I know that much.

With my new understanding of what is wrong with me, I could use a Venn diagram to map it out. The left circle is routine. This contains everything that I can do unconsciously. I have been high-functioning because I am very good at selecting what I put in that space. The right circle is all the tasks I am required to do to achieve any desired goals. The space where they intersect is the battlefield. The routine mode is compulsive, I want to get as much into that space as possible. It is simple, but not easy because of my dopamine deficiency and the comorbidities that come with it. Emotional regulation is the emulsifier. The approach my therapist wants me to take is probably going to be effective. It is how my mind already compartmentalizes itself. I just need to get started. Therein lies the problem. [0] Dopamine = [0] motivation = task paralysis.

I am being conscious of my inner saboteur. I’m paying attention to the blind spot in my consciousness, the compulsive little gremlin that is calling the shots. The brain is a problem solver and I can see that it is trying to help but it is but a child. My inner child. I have to undermine the undermining champion.

I have an old trick up my sleeve. Lists. I finally replaced the ink in my printer. Once my after-nap coffee is done, I am going to make a list of lists. This will give me enough of a dopamine hit. I tried doing this with apps on my phone but it doesn’t work. Object permanence is my issue with that one. I need to leave those lists out in the open, in the spaces I work.

I am tired of being tired. That’s the vibe. I thought it would be a thing of the past once school was out for summer. 40-hour work weeks, and 12 hours of classes. I need to work on my sleep schedule. I keep giving my inner child the iPad, so to speak, at the end of the day when I am done dealing with him. At a minimum, I should mind what he watches. Practice better mental hygiene. Binge content that is related to my goals.

My inner equilibrium is still out of balance. School is out for summer, so I thought it would level out. It did not. It is not the content that is making you crazy, it is the context. I often have to remind myself. This runs deeper than that if a dopamine deficiency is involved. It all stems from my gut health. I don’t even know how to win this battle. My NP doctor was a little short with me the last time we spoke. I don’t even want to get into it.

Anyway, I am starting to bum myself out. That was not on my evening agenda. I had a successful depression nap, I should be drinking my coffee in ceremony. I’m trying to boss up but in the back of my mind, it is still sinking in that my brain is jacked up and busted. It is not designed to adjust to this way of life. To this profoundly ill society. I’m still on my way to acceptance. I spent my whole adult life trying to figure out what was wrong with me so that I could fix it. Only to discover that is not something that can be fixed. I have to learn to manage the symptoms for the rest of my life. I’m still salty about it. I’m more inclined, however, to make this my bitch. I don’t have ADHD, ADHD has me! That’s the vibe. If not the goal. Mission impossible.