Can I be honest? Goodness, I carry a lot of shame and blame. Everything is my fault, even if there’s no way it’s my fault. Residue from childhood…
Tap the play button to listen to today’s podcast. Tap & hold first if necessary, then tap play.FYI I cuss so wait ’til the kids and elders aren’t around. Press play to listen to today’s podcast. Blessings!
It’s annoying how those things can hold onto us well into adulthood. I mean, I’m in my 40s and my parents’ stuff and my teachers’ stuff and my classmates’ stuff and my siblings’ stuff still wafts up and slaps me every once in a while. And some things don’t leave, and wane, and revisit. They sit with me every f*ckin’ day. And I hate that sh*t.
I am actively working out some stuff, while letting other messages run in the background until I get to them. AND this idea of maybe I’m actually doing my best came up for me recently. (I want to say “today,” but I actually recorded this a few days ago and life has kept me so busy that I’m just today getting around to writing this description.
I had planned on doing a full YouTube video for this one and I even started it (I think. ADHD is like that. I forget things and think I’ve done things I haven’t. Like I came to simply put the audio into this blog post that I thought I wrote already. I may have written it somewhere, or maybe it was just in my head. So here I am writing it for (possibly the first time). And you know what? I’m doing my best. And my best doesn’t look like any one else’s.
I’m showing up in this world with all my stuff… much that NO ONE knows about… much that I share here. And I’m doing my best. Being a single mom, as a neurodivergent human (who is JUST NOW realizing how impairing this processing disorder (ADHD) has been for me my whole life), I always feel inadequate, that I’m not doing enough. But, today, I’m realizing that I am doing MY best.
One of my favorite videos is of this little girl doing her mom’s nails, and when her mom notes that she got some of the polish on her finger, she says, “I’m doin’ my best, honey.” It’s the cutest thing. And it makes me giggle every time.
In these moments when I find my mind being so hard on me, I hear her little voice in my head saying, “I’m doing my best, honey.” Despite the internalized criticism from others that eventually became my inner voice…. You know that happens, right? Your inner critic likely sounds just like someone who used to criticize you. You probably taught yourself to do it before they could. That way you could correct things before they could hurt you with their words… or otherwise. Eventually, we’ve been doing it so long that we forget we started to do it to protect ourselves, and we become our own bullies….
Anywho… what was I talking about? (Hmmm…. ADHD took it.) Anyway, this is long enough. Thank you for being here. Listen to today’s podcast above.
I saw this post yesterday and it was so true for me.
One thing I’ve become painfully aware of is how much energy it takes for me to “people.” Interacting with others all day, as a person with social anxiety, is draining AF. Simple things like sending an email or making a phone call can take weeks off prep because my internal dual is set to “don’t f*ck this up. Going to the grocery store requires me to sit in the parking lot for twenty minutes before I go in, and sometimes an additional hour or more after shopping. Navigating conversations and supporting loved ones through their own life situations, plus just the general day-to-day responsibilities leave me feeling depleted. So when the weekend hits, I just want to be alone, with no one requesting anything from me.
It’s really NOT even personal. It’s just what I need… two days of just me.
As an introverted neurodivergent human, I go through most of my week feeling like a fish out of water, or better yet, like a human who can’t swim being held under water. The constant demands of interacting so week are very unnatural for me, but I do it because that’s life.
I survive the Monday through Friday and come up for air on weekends. So when people plan events on the weekends, and expect me to attend, they are often disappointed. Occasionally, I will show up and support, but holding my breath through the weekend drains my reserves for the following week.
Since I know people need me, count on me, and I generally appreciate being there for my loved ones, I rarely fully reset on the weekends. I take a few hours to myself, or sleep in on a Saturday, but what I truly need is a FULL weekend of alone time in order to reset.
For the last few weekends, I’ve been saying, “Yes,” and showing up. And that lack of alone time has accumulated. Peopling demands have been on high for weeks. My weekends have included moments I couldn’t/wouldn’t miss. And my reset kept getting pushed off.
When Friday night hit, I knew I had to go no contact. I had to hold my boundaries this weekend, or I’d lose my mind. So that’s what I did (am doing). I put a post-it note on my bedroom door saying that for my mental health I’m unavailable for the full two days. And even though I feel guilty, I can’t keep giving out of my emptiness.
I can’t hold my breath any longer. For my mental health I had to come up for air.
And as much as I hate for people to feel they can’t rely on me, for the sake of my sanity, I’ve gotta do what’s best for me.
I don’t care what’s going on, I am completely shut down and inaccessible. Hurt feelings will heal, but I can’t continue to risk my sanity for anyone’s comfort. That’s just too high a price to pay.
So many of us game made a habit of being the village bonfires. We’re constantly setting ourselves on fire to ensure those we love stay warm. But what about us? We have needs, too.
If you’re the person who gives and gives and gives, and rarely ever receives, take care of yourself. Sometimes saying “no” is best. At some point we have to decide that we matter, too. We give in ways that people would never give to us. And if we want to still be here, we have to learn to give to ourselves, even if it hurts some feelings. We are human and our internal resources can run out.
Be good to yourself. Take your reset unapologetically.
Blessings,
Marlene Dillon Empowerment Specialist
If you loved this, you’ll really love Share & Let’s Live!, my blog and podcast.
When I look at my life and what it is, versus what it could be with supports, it’s the most gut-wrenching, soul destroying feeling in the pit of my stomach….
To be clear, I still don’t have that diagnosis, but there are LOTS of signs that I probably should. I have been diagnosed with ADHD though.
I think the thing that makes it most bile-like is knowing that I could have had a completely different life, if my society was not structured around sameness and patriarchal values. If only I had been born into a society that valued women (beyond our ability to cook, clean, bear and raise children, oh and “service” men), the multitude of signs and symptoms that I exhibited since childhood would have been seen as indications of a processing disorder, rather than “oh she’s just being a girl.” 🙄
Since the standards for ADHD and other neurodiverse circumstances are primarily based on how these conditions present in males, likely hundreds of thousands of women have gone without diagnoses, and the supports that would have allowed us to maximize our potential.
Can I tell you something that’s been secretly irking me? It bothers me that when I share with about the challenges I experience with ADHD, some of my male friends will say they deal with those same symptoms, but they’re on medication/have been since childhood. And I secretly assume that they’ve been provided the coping supports because they’re male. I know I shouldn’t assume, but admittedly for the first few seconds that’s where my mind goes. And I feel a bit jealous.
On the other hand, when I share my challenges with my female friends, they often say variations of, “Oh my goodness. That so sounds like me. Maybe I need to be assessed.” And that alone makes me want to keep sharing, because I figured out that I had something going on because of a Facebook post.
Why do I talk about ADHD all the time? Because I saw a post that changed the course of my life. It said, “Tell me you’re neurodivergent without telling me you’re neurodivergent.” And as I read through the comments section, nearly every comment sounded like me. I mean, odd things that I thought only I did/experienced. And I didn’t relate to just 2, or even 5, comments. I read 100 comments and related to 98! It was then that I finally decided to listen to my therapist and get assessed.
So am I writing this today? Well, this morning as I was making breakfast, I started thinking about things in my life that have gone to sh*t as a result of the challenges I deal with and the lack of supports to make things easier. The more I thought of the multitude of consequences and losses, the angrier I became. I thought about all the life I didn’t get to have, all the things I didn’t accomplish, all my daughter went without, because no one cared to notice that ADHD tends to present itself differently in females.
I was struggling in grade school every single day, but it didn’t matter because I didn’t fit the description of a student dealing with processing/cognitive challenges. I remember in kindergarten a classmate used to leave class for part of the day and go with a different teacher. I heard what others students said as they looked down on him for having to go to the “LD class.” But I wanted to know for myself, so I asked him why he had to go wit that lady. He told me that he goes with her and she helps him with work and explains things to him so he can better understand. And my immediate reaction was, “I want that. Can I go? I would like help, too.” And he told me that I probably couldn’t go. He told me that he had failed kindergarten before and that’s why he had to go. And I realize now, as I’m sharing this, that this conversation was one of my earliest experiences of learning that even though I needed help, I didn’t match what it looked like to qualify for these supports. I wasn’t going to get any help.
And that’s exactly what I experienced. My teachers knew I wasn’t catching on. They would keep trying to explain something to me until they said they needed to get back to the class and then they’d either leave me to figure it out or in frustration ask a parent volunteer work with me (on the days they were actually there). I learned so much when I had that one-on-one support, but it was sporadic. I was struggling in my classes all through grammar school, but not one teacher acknowledged my struggles. And I can’t really be mad at them, because they weren’t equipped with the knowledge that these were signs that I was dealing with a processing disorder. Honestly, even the teachers and administrators now don’t know to identify students that may be dealing with a processing challenge. Well, at least not the girls….
I didn’t fit the known description of a student with ADHD. I was a child who sat quietly and didn’t get in trouble. Even though I struggled everyday, I got excellent grades. But nobody asked me how I got those good grades.
No, I wasn’t cheating. I would never do that. I was afraid of my mother. So afraid that in order to get good grades I taught myself everything I didn’t learn in school that day. I brought all my textbooks home at night and fought through the homework, reteaching myself the lessons so I could pass tests and quizzes so I wouldn’t get in trouble. I was my own teacher through grammar school, high school, and all the way up to my master’s. There are very few classes where I got it when the teacher said it. I had to learn it on my own time….
And honestly that’s how I’ve been going through life… finding my own ways and my own hacks to do the stuff everyone else does naturally. I’m putting in far more time to do the tasks that others do as second nature. And I’ve been doing that for over 40 years.
And now it’s starting to catch up with me. I’m tired from constantly taking 7 steps to make 1. I’m tired of being behind… I was gonna say “behind my peers,” but my journey is so odd and delayed, I don’t even have any peers. All the people who were jealous of me in grade school for being on the honor roll, have far exceeded what I’ve managed to accomplish…. Granted I have done some things that the average person may not have done—like the books, podcast, and my online course. But the basics? They’ve got me beat. I don’t have my own house. I’ve never bought a car, or even leased one. It can easily take me 6 months to make a 6 minute phone call.
And what’s worse is that despite the challenges I deal with, I still don’t have any supports in place. So I still am expected to show up in life like any other adult. And that’s hard. I go through life masking Monday through Friday and hiding (or hibernating) on the weekends just so I have enough energy to do it again. AND. THAT. IS. EXHAUSTING.
So lately, most days once I handle my domestic duties and get my child off to school, I’ve got nothing left. I do my best throughout the day to reboot, but I usually don’t get my energy back until about a half hour before my alarm goes off saying it’s time to go pick my daughter up from school. So all my work plans, never got done. Podcasts I planned to post, still haven’t been edited. Blogs don’t get posted. (Right now I am working on this to get it posted before bed. I should be asleep, as it’s 1:50am currently. But I couldn’t stand to get to another bedtime knowing I didn’t get my sh*t posted. I just couldn’t. So today I’m staying up and hopefully I’ll wake up feeling rested 5 hours from now. 😩
But anyway, blah blah blah… I just yawned so hard I heard the hinge of my jaw click. So I’m gonna end this without the fancy bow…. by just saying, I share about my diagnosis, and even about my self-diagnosis, because I don’t believe in “misery loves company.” I am a person who wants to save you steps. I am someone who will share my story (and the lessons) so you don’t have to go through all I’ve gone through. And my hope is that by bring awareness, I am: helping women to see themselves and consider being assessed, helping other neurodivergent humans recognize that you are not alone, and I even hope that the things I share will reach the right “ears” (well, eyes… oh yeah.. the podcast. I clearly need to get to sleep. 😂)…. and lead to some changes (whether in the schools, or in how more women and girls are being assessed… something.
I just have the audacity to believe that everything has purpose and that something good will come of all the challenges…. that even my tough stuff can be used for good.
Anywho, I’m no longer coherent so I’m gonna end this here.
Thank you for being here and thank you for reading. I really, truly appreciate you. This journey of mine is lonely and you taking the time really means a lot to me. I hope that my words help, empower, encourage, inspire, or at least entertain you.
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Don’t let loneliness cause you to connect with the wrong person.
Some relationships can take decades to heal from. If I could tell my former self one thing that could have saved me so much loss and pain, it would be pay attention to what you see not what he says.
Don’t ignore what you observe. Don’t make yourself out to be the crazy one because what you see doesn’t match with what he says. He’s not in a bad season. He’s not just tired or frustrated with work. If it’s been going on for a while, this is who he is, likely who he’s always been (his mask is off now), and possibly who he has become. And he’s not changing back.
(BTW I assume this could apply to any gender/human. Note that I am speaking from my own experiences and observations. This is not an anti-men post. I love men and don’t assume that all men are the same.)
Far too often we fall in love with someone’s representative, and then when they change into their real self we believe what they tell us is the reason for the change. Don’t gaslight yourself. You see what you see. You observe what you observe.
And one more thing that I would tell my former self is to pay attention to the way they treat others. You’re not special… forever. Special treatment wears off. How they treat others in their life, they will eventually treat you.
In some relationships you can lose a lot more than you think. (I am still experiencing losses from the role left by a relationship that ended nearly 20 years ago.) I was so busy looking for “signs” and so terrified of missing out on my one opportunity at finding “the one,” that I ignored all of the red flags. I completely changed course because I bought into the lie that the worst thing I woman could do with her life is be single and childless. That fear that was conditioned into me since childhood, through TV, movies, society, church, and culture, completely hijacked my plans and left me with one gift and a whole lot of losses.
A bad relationship can completely reroute your life. You can lose opportunities, money, family, friends, health, and worst of all, you can lose yourself.
Some things you’ll lose forever. Others you may get back in time. I’m still gradually remembering who I was before him (the unapologetically strong, independent, and courageous individual I was back then). I’d rather be lonely than allow somebody to take as much from me as he did.
Don’t ignore red flags. They are not decorations. Don’t ignore your gut instincts. Keep your eyes and ears open. Check if their words match their actions, of who they say they are is backed by behavior. Look at the situation objectively by imagining someone you really love being in your position. What advice would you give them? What would you believe is in their best interest? Take your own loving advice. You deserve the best and nothing less.
Don’t make your life decisions through loneliness. Choose love that feels like love. The losses from choosing the cheap alternative in the end are so not worth it.
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