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New Shapes
Aug. 30th, 2024 10:30 am
This week I've been focusing on when I feel what I've come to think of as "dysregulated". It's when I feel less connected to where I am, and my thoughts are racing from thing to thing but it all feels unsatisfying. It sounds weird, but it feels like I'm "hungry" -- not in a way where I'm actually starving for nourishment, but in the way that I'm empty and looking for something to change THAT feeling. The world in front of me isn't satisfying, so I need something else that makes me feel...not unsatisfied. Distracted, numb, even anxious is better than the feeling of being still and unhappy.
That's not a conscious feeling, but it seems like the concept I'm running from when I'm just mindlessly passing the time. When I've noticed the behaviors of dysregulation, and trace it back to whatever I'm feeling at the moment, the small voice that comes back to me is "I just don't want to feel this way."
It hits strongly when I face a challenge I don't think I'm ready for. At the day job, this is often a project I haven't worked on before, or if something comes up and I'm unsure if it's really a problem, or sometimes even if it feels like analyzing a report will take more concentration than I'm willing to spend. Whenever I think about working on the Unlicensed Adventures game. Or writing. Checking my bank account and setting my budget. Being an adult, basically.
Somewhere along the way it feels like I broke a contract with myself and I don't have the trust in myself to try something new or difficult. I've settled into this self-concept that I am inherently slovenly and disorganized, that I don't have the discipline to really take care of myself. I'm not sure where this happened, but I gave up on myself.
And it feels like it all started with this cycle, the struggle to do something fulfilling but difficult and getting beaten by it every time. I couldn't keep a set schedule with my Patreon, couldn't even finish a story, broke every promise I made to myself and my readers, pulled back on so many commitments, let so many people down either through procrastination or sheer forgetting. At some point I just threw up my hands and stopped trying to do anything. Any small successes I managed to scrounge together won't build. Any large success I might have is just the diminished version of a bigger success I had set out to do. And...when the world is ending around you, why worry about success at all?
But there's also something in me that refuses to let this go. I don't like this version of myself, the fearful avoidant who insulates himself from discomfort so much he can't handle even the pain of discipline. I see the way giving up on myself means giving up on all of my relationships as well. In a lot of ways I've been trying to just...disappear into a vaguely-positive haze so I didn't really have to engage with anything.
I realize how fragile I am, but I also know that I won't get stronger without, you know, pushing myself. The work becomes pushing myself in an environment that allows me to rediscover the simple joy of activity and connection.
This journal is a tool for that, I suppose. I've found my way back to a love of writing through doing this, and it's easier to put my thoughts down on paper in a way that feels true to me. It makes me think about others in ways I've stopped considering over time, reminds me of all these great relationships and reminds me gently of how and where I fail them. It helps me to look at myself with a critical but compassionate perspective, figure out where I'm failing, or where I'm not being fair to myself. It's a grounding influence that gives me solid ground from which to stretch out.
Saw off Ratty for his two-week family visit this morning. He was *very* nervous about timing, which is understandable as it's not one of my strong suits -- and to be fair, I *have* offered to do the airport run for people and slept through the alarm. >.> So it became a bit of a test for me: do I have my shit together enough to pull this off? And it turns out, I do.
It's going to take more of these small victories, day after day, to build back the self-trust that's been broken. I realize I'm fighting an uphill battle on consistency with ADHD, but that doesn't make it impossible. It just means my version of consistency is going to be a little different from everyone else's. I will definitely have to rely on tools and external systems more than most.
In one of the best signs yet, I'm rediscovering the joy in the process itself. It's a good but fragile time. I don't want to jinx it, but for the first time in a little while I feel like I'm improving.
That's not a conscious feeling, but it seems like the concept I'm running from when I'm just mindlessly passing the time. When I've noticed the behaviors of dysregulation, and trace it back to whatever I'm feeling at the moment, the small voice that comes back to me is "I just don't want to feel this way."
It hits strongly when I face a challenge I don't think I'm ready for. At the day job, this is often a project I haven't worked on before, or if something comes up and I'm unsure if it's really a problem, or sometimes even if it feels like analyzing a report will take more concentration than I'm willing to spend. Whenever I think about working on the Unlicensed Adventures game. Or writing. Checking my bank account and setting my budget. Being an adult, basically.
Somewhere along the way it feels like I broke a contract with myself and I don't have the trust in myself to try something new or difficult. I've settled into this self-concept that I am inherently slovenly and disorganized, that I don't have the discipline to really take care of myself. I'm not sure where this happened, but I gave up on myself.
And it feels like it all started with this cycle, the struggle to do something fulfilling but difficult and getting beaten by it every time. I couldn't keep a set schedule with my Patreon, couldn't even finish a story, broke every promise I made to myself and my readers, pulled back on so many commitments, let so many people down either through procrastination or sheer forgetting. At some point I just threw up my hands and stopped trying to do anything. Any small successes I managed to scrounge together won't build. Any large success I might have is just the diminished version of a bigger success I had set out to do. And...when the world is ending around you, why worry about success at all?
But there's also something in me that refuses to let this go. I don't like this version of myself, the fearful avoidant who insulates himself from discomfort so much he can't handle even the pain of discipline. I see the way giving up on myself means giving up on all of my relationships as well. In a lot of ways I've been trying to just...disappear into a vaguely-positive haze so I didn't really have to engage with anything.
I realize how fragile I am, but I also know that I won't get stronger without, you know, pushing myself. The work becomes pushing myself in an environment that allows me to rediscover the simple joy of activity and connection.
This journal is a tool for that, I suppose. I've found my way back to a love of writing through doing this, and it's easier to put my thoughts down on paper in a way that feels true to me. It makes me think about others in ways I've stopped considering over time, reminds me of all these great relationships and reminds me gently of how and where I fail them. It helps me to look at myself with a critical but compassionate perspective, figure out where I'm failing, or where I'm not being fair to myself. It's a grounding influence that gives me solid ground from which to stretch out.
Saw off Ratty for his two-week family visit this morning. He was *very* nervous about timing, which is understandable as it's not one of my strong suits -- and to be fair, I *have* offered to do the airport run for people and slept through the alarm. >.> So it became a bit of a test for me: do I have my shit together enough to pull this off? And it turns out, I do.
It's going to take more of these small victories, day after day, to build back the self-trust that's been broken. I realize I'm fighting an uphill battle on consistency with ADHD, but that doesn't make it impossible. It just means my version of consistency is going to be a little different from everyone else's. I will definitely have to rely on tools and external systems more than most.
In one of the best signs yet, I'm rediscovering the joy in the process itself. It's a good but fragile time. I don't want to jinx it, but for the first time in a little while I feel like I'm improving.
