being
a neurodivergent individual
i often overcorrect
when someone offers me
a correction
i don’t really know how to get to a
“happy medium”
since, apparently, i can either go
full-hog
into what i’m doing wrong
or full hog
into what i think doing
right
is like
working through what works best
for my distractable brain/
my undiagnosed, but probably ADHD brain/
my MaybeHD brain
finding new discoveries and tricks and impacts and randomness all the time
and it’s slowly feeling like
less and less of a lie when i
introduce myself and my needs as simply
“undiagnosed ADHD”
i am a softie
made of choked up feelings
and barely hidden tears
and stories will almost always mist my eyes
but a thank you to a supportive partner
from a trans-masc autistic person
will straight up give me
the weeps
i often brag/complain/comment on the fact
that my pain tolerance is high
and my discomfort tolerance
is low
what i mean by this is
generally
*generally*
i can see pain as a temporary thing —
my constant toe issues when i walk
always dissipate with each step
[even if i know it will come back
with the beginning of the next one,
at least while that foot is in the air
it’s gone] —
or cramps/headaches/muscle pains
i can tell they’ll fade
in a day
or after some good sleep
or even with some sort of pain medication —
pain is more an assessment of what my body needs
than anything that will put me
out
but
but
but discomfort never seems to have an end-point
[unless i force it,
and sometimes i do
purely from an “i can’t deal with this anymore” standpoint]
so —
tags tickling the back of my neck
NEED to be ripped out of all my shirts/
socks falling inside my shoes
NEED to be pulled up
or exchanged for better ones/
backpack straps feeling uneven
NEED to be adjusted
and bras that fold up on themselves
and pop back at random times
NEED to be pushed to the back of my drawer
and never worn again
[though the matching bra
received at the same time
that squeezes my ribs to pain
i’m far more willing to deal with
throughout a day]/
someone’s breath on my neck while trying to spoon me
NEEDS to become the little spoon
and my own ribs popping out/back into place
ever so slightly
NEEDS to be brought up to my doctor
far before any pain worries arise in an encounter/
it’s really just the fan above me
that started out as discomfort
[of air blowing on my skin]
that i’ve learned to deal with —
but it still bothers me more
on days with less sleep/
high stress/
i’m still looking forward to the moment when
the weather outside switches and
we won’t need the fan on
again till next summer
i hope i’ve expressed
this phenomenon
accurately enough
to let folks know
why
the fuck
i’m like this.
the pull
of the iud string/
the cramps
from a new one entering,
do not hurt me.
but the crash of a mug that wasn’t mine to break;
or a tiny pebble stuck in my shoe
for each step, bothering, not stabbing;
or something sticky
and i can’t tell what;
or the tag of a shirt;
or an uncomfortable sitting position —
those all make tears
appear
in my eyes.
but actual pain?
worst pain of my life?
nah.
sitting here
thinking of neurodivergence
thinking of
anxiety and depression
thinking of
acting from such a young age
thinking of
diagnoses and non
thinking of
societal standards
thinking of
pressure and constructs
thinking of
freedom from expectations and all that
~~~
experiment
think of words not often written
ponder places and things alike
you rarely ever write about
and maybe
just maybe
your poetry can have fresh(er)
life
~~~
to write about what i’m feeling:
a little bit of pain
a lot of hunger
love for my dog and for my kip
(and begrudging love for our
hassle cat)
the cold of the ice pack
the water flowing from esophagus
to stomach
and on
the tap of my elevated leg
toe against air
to the tempo of the music
yawns
tiredness
worry about armpit stinkiness
this whisker poking out from my chin
and an extreme itchiness on my scalp, under my braid
my teeth clenched together
(relax, relax, relax)
the taste of this blueberry coffee
and a little bit more centered
than when i started this poem
writing
as if i have adhd
living
as if that truly is me
sharing stories
telling anecdotes
diagnosing myself
so that maybe
understanding it
will set me free
organization
is not my strong suit
and i’ve watched enough tiktoks to know
that i’m definitely not neurotypical
but in which direction?
is my extreme self-reliance on what i can remember
(with mostly successful strategies)
simply a life-long coping mechanism?
is my delving into the human condition
and socializing within characters
a masking tactic that’s been going on longer than i can remember?
or am i simply lucky enough
to have a very, very slight neuro-diversity
that doesn’t necessarily fit into either box
that my parents were kind enough not to force out of me
(or did society hit where my parents tried not to
as it hit in other ways?)
would i ever get diagnosed if i saw a ‘professional’?
almost definitely not.
but
i know my brain doesn’t work the way the ‘majority’ of brains
‘are supposed to’
so where does that leave me?
[alone?]
i keep getting flashbacks
to times on vacation
and driving in a car
and i wonder if that’s when i’m most living in the moment?
do i, [as a sagittarius?] need more variety in order to feel present in the present?
is that why morning poems are starting to feel stale?
is that why i can’t seem to accomplish new things in my little acting closet?
do i just need to add a new element every time?
the stool helped, definitely…
would a visual *something* help too?
would my writing poems to different music
or after food
or on the couch
or something something something else
be *good* for me?
for my constant need for adventure
[in these days, still, of a global phenomenon]
i don’t know why
it never occurred to me
to use my “weaknesses” as strengths
in acting.
i always pondered using my
quick-to-cry
sensations
as a way to
trick
my body
into crying on cue
but that never worked
and i think the key word there
is
“trick.”
i consider my passions
my caring too much
my crying when i’m frustrated
as the “bad” parts of my personality
mostly because they do get in the way
of living a normal life
but i don’t live a normal life
i’m an actor
and rather
than trick my subconscious
into using the base reactions
of my weaknesses as strengths
what if i actually and fully used my whole “weaknesses”
as my strengths?
i’m passionate,
so passionate,
i sometimes can’t decide
on which side
i align
(i solidly stand on the side of progress and compassion,
but with so much wrong with the world,
it’s difficult to concentrate
on just one issue,)
so i so often feel
overwhelmed
and lost
and without an outlet to create actual change
and i often force myself to try to decide
on just one
but
i’ve always considered my social justice life
and my acting life,
while influenced by social justice,
separate
(unless i’m performing in a thing
that is aiming towards creating
social changing)
but, just like i need to stop expecting
neurotypicality
from me
i also need to acknowledge that
as a queer, nonbinary, trans person
my existence holds in it
social change,
and my performing
any script
holds the passion
for some of the social change
of which i seek
and i know what my body/brain/mouth/soul feels
when i discuss a topic
about which i care deeply
and i can take that
and bring it
to other topics,
and i can cater my auditions
to those where passion is forefront
not to change my weaknesses into strengths
but to acknowledge
that all the things i thought were weak
are in fact
so
damn
strong.
kipventures 