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
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.
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
i write
every morning
to warm up my brain
i write
every morning
to feel a little more awake
i write
every morning
to get the creative juices flowing
i write
every morning
to feel like i’ve accomplished something
i write
every morning
because morning is when i’m at my best
i write
every morning
to continue a streak
because once i set my mind to something
i accomplish it
and i vowed to write every morning
and so i’ll write
every morning
until i feel
i’ve succeeded
(and then maybe move on
to the next hyper-fixation)
precariously balanced devises
plugged in to cords that show all the wires
on top of older machines
and books and unlit candles and things
i feel like the quintessential
adhd
disaster
but hey
it does
work
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?]
do you ever find
imposter syndrome
just from living
from being
alive
?
[i do]
kipventures 