this past week, the spaces around me have been getting progressively worse.
basic care tasks feel so far away, let alone dirty dishes or unread messages.
my psychologist said yesterday it’s likely the shift from being on meds that were stabilizing me to none at all.
I can’t help I lost my health insurance and other monthly affords due to my lack of income.
but I can help how I deal with this right now. and one of my top ways is through the expression of it. It helps me (and others) feel less alone.
and that’s powerful. community is powerful.
so here’s what this looks like for me. I can’t really take care of myself right now. it feels very hard.
but I’ve talked to a professional about it. I talked to my parents. I’ve been here before. And I’ll get through it again.
tonight, I’ll start with a shower. then, I’ll take tiny steps. 1 minute timers at a time (with breaks).
tomorrow, I may explore what my psychologist suggested — staying with family until I’m back on my meds.
I’m not afraid to ask for help. I know this can seem gross to some people, but I hope it encourages someone out there to express their needs and give themselves compassion.
we can’t hate ourselves through it. I won’t let you.
love you, mean it. 🖤
#adhd #executivedysfuntion #neurodivergent #caretasks #myreality
Living with ADHD and executive dysfunction can sometimes feel like an uphill battle, particularly during times of medication shifts or financial hardships that affect access to healthcare. I've personally experienced periods where basic daily tasks, such as managing dishes or answering messages, felt overwhelming or seemingly unreachable. This gradual decline in managing spaces around me often coincides with changes in medication—or the absence of it—which can intensify symptoms and executive dysfunction. One strategy that has profoundly helped me is being open about my experiences. Sharing these struggles creates a sense of community and reminds us that we're not isolated in our challenges. Expressing vulnerability isn’t a weakness; it’s a step toward healing. For example, even when I find caring for myself daunting, taking small actionable steps like setting one-minute timers to start on simple tasks has made a difference. These micro-steps, accompanied by scheduled breaks, prevent burnout and gradually help restore a sense of control. Additionally, professional support is invaluable. Consulting with psychologists or therapists during these transitional phases helps in identifying coping mechanisms and potential solutions, such as temporarily staying with family for additional care and stability while adjusting medications again. It’s essential not to be afraid to seek help from loved ones or health professionals when needed. Financial barriers, like losing health insurance, add extra layers of difficulty. In these moments, self-compassion becomes key. I remind myself—and encourage others—to avoid harsh self-judgment. Mental health fluctuations are part of the neurodivergent experience, and it’s okay to struggle. Embracing compassion and patience for ourselves can foster resilience. Lastly, the phrase "pov: it's happening again" captures the cyclical nature of these experiences. Recognizing these patterns helps prepare and respond more proactively. To anyone navigating similar hardships, know that you’re not alone, and small, consistent steps combined with community and professional support can pave the way toward recovery.