no pretty subject line to lure you with.

I've been fighting, struggling, lashing out at the faceless, formless thing that is adhd ever since I can remember. 

And since I figured out what I'm fighting against, I've been kind of coasting.  Or, at least I feel like I have.  (I flip-flop about it, though; some days, I thrash and flail as hard as I know how, coughing and spitting and gasping as I struggle to be like all the successful people, the disciplined, ordered, organized career-holders that are my adult peers; so it isn't *completely* true that I've only been coasting.  It just feels like it, most days.)

Fucking adhd.  I hate you.  I hate you so much I wish I could strangle you.

(And this is not one of the days where I want to be reminded that I have "so many special gifts!" - because today is one of the days where I'm so totally enraged that I'm mentally disabled, today I hate the force that wars against all of my attempts to do -- anything.  Everything.)

Fuck you, you stupid fucking nothing bastard-thing.

Comments

[jen]

oh honey.

i hate it too.

[Mary]

Fucking ADHD.
I'll run it over with my car.

[Mrs. Chicken]

I'm so sorry you are hurting.

[Motherofbun]

I think of you each day, lady.

I see alot of that same struggle you speak of in my son.

[Emily R]

I won't remind you of your gifts. I'll just add a "fuck you" to yours and hope the adhd hears us together.

[Andrea]

1-2-3: FUCK YOU, ADHD!

Anytime you need another voice to chime in and shout with you, you call/email me. I'm loud.

[debbie]

thanks, everybody.

just, yeah.

thank you.

[Ruth Dynamite]

I just flushed that thing down the loo.

Flushhhhhh.

There. It's gone now.

[BoggyWoggy]

As I'm learning more and more about ADHD, I see it as a blessing AND a curse. I'm a teacher, so it is in my face everyday. However, I'm also RETARDED and have lived a life of misery, due to an inability to complete anything without extreme anxiety and fear. Yet, because of my tendency to start LOTS of new things, I'm really, really creative and artsy. My friends come to my home and say, "ooo, how did you do that?" or, "Your gardens are amazing! How do you find the time?" I reply (in my head, mind you) "You HAVE to be kidding!!! Doesn't everyone else work in their yards at the crack of frickin' dawn, between coffee, newpaper, phone calls, geocaching, and bloggin?"
We must meet...