April 2, 2020
I tried Adderall for the first time today.
This morning, I couldn’t get out of bed until 8:30, but I was able to cook a full breakfast with eggs and (decaf) coffee, take a shower, and read 100 pages of a book by 11am. I haven’t been able to sit down and read a book in years.
Normally, it takes me all morning to build up the motivation to get in the fucking shower. And by build up motivation, I mean I’m standing naked in my bathroom doorway for an hour scrolling through my phone and making a Spotify playlist for this shower. Because it can’t be the same playlist as the one I had from the last shower. I’m a whole new person with different music tastes since then.
What was I talking about... See? This is my brain. All the FUCKING time.
I can’t form a cohesive thought or stay on topic to save my life. I’m ashamed of my own journal, because I have to be a perfectionist, and this is far from perfect.
This drug definitely wore off already. I can tell. This morning, I could actually form a plan for my day, and prioritize tasks. The same million thoughts ran through my head, but I could finally tell them, “No, I will deal with you later.” My brain actually listened.
I’m staring at this pill bottle in front of me, tempted to take just one more pill, so I can experience that again. I don’t want to become addicted. Can I become addicted to feeling normal?
I made it through high school. I made it through college. I have the dream job of a lifetime. I’ve met society’s expectations. I’m fine.
But I’m struggling at work. I’m always late. I can’t pay attention in meetings. I can’t finish anything by a deadline. I impulsively do things without getting a go from my supervisor. I’m really, really worried that I’m going to get fired.
I don’t like to talk about my problems. So how could anyone notice there’s a problem without the messy apartment, the procrastination, the collection of unfinished projects? On top of stuff at work. And what young person doesn't experience those? I’m just “getting adjusted to being an adult with responsibilities.”
I’m not afraid of adult responsibilities. I just can’t bring myself to do them when I want to. I am not lazy.
I guess I came this far without noticing a problem because I still did well in school. My coworkers used brick and mortar to build their platforms to the top, and all I had was tape and glue. I adapted, and I figured out alternate ways to build my platform, but it’s starting to collapse after twenty-four years of sustaining my weight.
The Adderall helps replace some of that old tape and glue that’s falling apart, but that’s still what it is. Tape and glue. It’s not going to hold forever.
Is this it, I’m going to rely on a drug for the rest of my life? Just to function? Just to be able to focus on something for more than 5 minutes, or not forget things, or actually listen when people are talking to me? To get to work on time? To not have to work so hard every minute of every day to escape my distracting daydreams and face reality?
And how can I explain to people what’s going on in my head when it can’t be seen? How do I show them why I’m so tired, why keeping my apartment clean is my only accomplishment every week, why I always forget my keys, why I struggle at my job because I can’t do basic tasks?
But it’s not about what people think. I don’t have to share with anyone. I can just keep figuring this out and stumbling as I go along, and just keep taking this little blue pill that’s supposed to fix everything.
I want to accomplish bigger goals. I have the potential. I want my goals to be more than just “getting through the day” without being completely exhausted.
I can’t remember if it’s always been like this. I forget everything. Typical.
Probably going to burn this notebook over a campfire so no one ever has to find this tragic thing. Maybe make some s’mores. God I love chocolate.
December 27, 2001
Today I played with my new Legoes that Santa gave me for Chrismas. I made up a new invention called Rainbow Sticks. To make Rainbow Sticks, you line up all the colers. Then, you switch each coler until you have 1 line. Than stack them until you form 1 tall stick. Than you brake them up into small sticks with each color in each one.
I builded a castle with Legoes and filled up the WHOLE table. Daddy said that it was grate and that I should be an arcitect. He says I cant stay up all nite. But I like making stuff at nite. Its dark and quite. No one saz I have to stop. And if I stop I got to start again latr. And there is no TV at nite.
My favorit show is Dora the Explorer. I want a backpack like Doras. Its purple and that’s my favorit coler. Maybe that is why Barney was my favorit shoe when I was little.
My brother played with my castle so I kicked him.
January 10, 2007
I wasted the whole Christmas break on stupid family stuff and playing Nintendogs. Now school starts tomorrow and I should have been working on my science project. It’s due February 1 and I haven’t even picked out a project.
My project in third grade was comparing whether ice melted faster in air or in water. C’mon, that’s not going to win me a Nobel Prize.
Maybe I could do something with bridges. But that’s dumb. Nobody needs to learn anything new about building bridges. I think the engineers already found the ways that work.
I think it would be cool to build a bridge for fun though. Maybe have a pool in the backyard and a bridge goes across it, and you can retract it when you want to use the pool for swimming. Actually for a pool it could just be inflatable. For a real bridge maybe it can be over a decorative lake in the yard with lots of rocks and ducks. Quack quack.
But that’s probably not going to happen. Mom never lets me build stuff because she’s afraid it’ll be too heavy for me. She already thinks I need to lose weight, wouldn’t lifting heavy stuff help me lose weight? Whatever. God she’s so dumb sometimes. But my idea’s also probably dumb.
This has to be PERFECT. My grade point average is only 97. I gotta keep up my reputation.
It’d be so much easier to forget about school and plan on marrying a rich husband and stay home and take care of the kids. Mom says I’m going to drop my career when I have kids anyway, like she did. Well I’m a lot smarter than her.
Where was I? Right. Science project. I’ll probably just do it all the night before as usual and still win Best in Show.
(February 7, 2008 edit: I did!!! I won!!! Ended up choosing soaps - not sure how that happened. Also, my writing is gross.)
October 21, 2010
My mom just came in my room and asked if I was gay.
Apparently if you’re an overweight girl and wear nothing but black T-shirts and jeans, and have no friends and don’t giggle over boys all the time, and spend most of your time staring at a wall, it couldn’t POSSIBLY be depression. You must be a homosexual.
June 10, 2015
Another boyfriend bites the dust.
Every time I start a new relationship, it feels like it’s going to be forever and everything is amazing. I find things in common with every guy that I date. Then I just... fall out of love with them.
Maybe I get bored. That’s a terrible thing to say about another human being. How would I feel if someone got bored with me? I certainly don’t get bored with me.
I was in love with this guy for two years. He was just my best friend. Then when we finally started to date, I got bored again. Maybe I was in love with the illusion, or the thrill of the chase.
He would always get frustrated with me for not hearing him over the phone. Sometimes my mind wanders while someone’s talking to me, especially if I can’t see their face, and he never understood that it wasn’t personal. I try my best to listen and to be there. But just dealing with coursework and exams is hard enough without having to take care of his needy ass.
Maybe it’s me. Maybe I keep churning out boyfriends because I don’t have patience or care to work hard at the relationship. I’m just trying to take care of myself most of the time. Maybe I’m a little resentful that I’ve learned how to care for my own emotional needs and not have to lean on anyone, especially since I’ve never found anyone who really understands how I see the world. So why should I be with someone who keeps leaning on me for support and offers nothing in return except some nice heartwarming moments and really, really good sex?
Man, I love sex. I should just drop out and become a porn star ... or at least a porn script writer. Is that a thing?
I’m selfish. I’m so self-involved in working on myself and trying my best in college courses that I don’t have time to think about others and be a decent human being. Why is it so hard for me to make friends? How does everyone seem to have the time for friends and be posting on Instagram ten times a day? And how do they always look so perfect and get all the best shots? Do they have a professional photographer with them all the time?
I’m getting off track. Using men for sex, that’s what I was talking about. At least it looks like that’s where this was going. I hate reading back on my writing. It’s always so childish. Just disorganized brain soup.
It’s so easy to forget past boyfriends, or even friends. I can’t tell if that makes me resilient or just a psychopath.
The one time I actually sit down and write something, I’m supposed to be studying for a final tomorrow. I can’t ever do anything right.
November 30, 2019
I’ve been buying way too much shit. I really need to keep up with my budget. Now I don’t have any money for Christmas presents because I forgot that rent is due tomorrow.
Not like I remember to buy presents anyway. It’s usually a last minute Amazon rush on December 23 and they turn out to be crappy gifts with no thought put into them.
I’m just going to be one of those “I don’t do gifts” people. I can show love in other ways. Like actually showering and showing up.
I could stop wasting food by buying a bunch of random ingredients and letting them rot in the fridge. Surely that would save $300 a month.
I can’t even feed myself and keep my apartment clean. How do I expect myself to become a mother someday, or find myself a rich husband who likes his mansion clean? I’m sure I could do it if I wasn’t daydreaming half the time.
Maybe there’s something wrong with me. Or I’m just a garbage person. It’s probably the latter.
April 15, 2020
Two weeks on Adderall today. Figured that I should write this in the morning before the magic pill wears off.
My evaluation at work yesterday went better than I expected. It’s been a relief being able to sit down and actually prepare for it. I would have failed this one again if my boss hadn’t been so accommodating and let me reschedule it.
It’s difficult for me to ask for help and be open about my new learning disability, but I’m glad that I did. Otherwise I’d continue struggling and increasing my chances of getting fired. It's still a struggle, but at least I can tap into my potential. Maybe I can even make connections with my coworkers.
I know that I’m smart. The smartest people in the world dream of pursuing the career that I have. I’ve excelled in everything that I do, but ignoring problems that have been greatly impacting my mental and physical health. I haven’t settled for anything less than perfection. Now I’m finally taking time to fix myself. And most importantly, forgive myself.
But I don’t need to be fixed, not really. I have special strengths. I have a unique view of the world that most people don’t get to see. But I’m a non-neurotypical brain living in a neurotypical world. I’ve been so alone by not conforming to the world around me.
Because I asked for help, I can better manage my time. I can choose which of my million thoughts to act on at any given minute of the day. I can stop myself from worrying about nothing. I can truly listen to people when they talk to me. I can read a book. I can take a shower without dreading it. I can still escape into my daydreams, but still come back to reality, and I don’t have to fight reality so much.
My first time trying the scary blue pill was later than I would have liked, but better now than later. I have a chance to be normal. I don’t know if I’ll always need it, but at least now I know what I’ve been missing.