Does it even matter? Probably not to anyone else, but I’m really a great self-flagellator and sometimes when I look around I realize there’s no reason. Yes, I have ADHD, I’m pretty damned certain of that. But even so, I’m a bit of a powerhouse when I am productive. I might spend hours doing nothing some days, but boy…when I kick into high gear, which seems to happen often enough, I get the work done of 10 people. Okay maybe not ten…and I don’t mean to sound like I’m putting people down, because I’m not. I just realize every so often that I really don’t need to worry quite so much about how I’m doing. I made it to 33 without an ADHD diagnosis, and the only reason I even sought that was that I was driving myself nuts. Okay I was driving a few other people, mostly those close to me a little nuts too…but for all public intents and purposes I was merely pleasantly eccentric, a little artsy, a little unusual, and frequently mildly tardy. I have friends, I manage projects, I get stuff done. I get a crap ton of stuff done…I just happen to eat myself alove with overcommitment in the process because I cannot say no. Is this a crime? Hell no. Is this something to work on–hell yes.
So fuck that. No more tears. Off to make something useful of myself.