So. I would have the chance to get adhd creative coaching. The art teacher from my current class is both (obviously a creative and) adhd diagnosed and licensed as an adhd coach. With being unemployed starting next week, I'd have the time. With my current job ending, it would actually be a fucking great time. I wouldn't need an official diagnosis either. It would feel less intimidating than going the official route of getting diagnosed (tbh I'm so scared that they'd be like, nah, you're not adhd, you just suck 🤷) and finding therapy (don't worry, I know the difference between coaching and therapy). I liked her in the art class. The only down sides are

- it's really expensive (I mean it's a very okay normal amount of expensive, but it's a lot of money and see above I'll be unemployed until I find something new and I'll probably earn much less money than before)

- part of me is worried she won't tell me anything I don't already know, so it'll be a wasted hour amount of savings going into this

- and really I'm just chicken. I'm scared. I'll spend half of the time crying. And I feel pretty irreparable.

But then I'm thinking: yeah it's a lot of money but if I wanted to I could afford it. It would suck but I could. And the timing is kinda perfect? And I like her. It's in my area. It's literally like the universe is handing me this opportunity on a silver plate. It feels like I *should* be trying this, for real.

I guess I'll ask her for the pre-chat-for-questions, and then decide.

Like it's just not sexy to be hit with the "harder, parental figure" LMAO

this is genuinely the main reason I like fem terms/nicknames but I am also purposefully a fairly feminine person. I love cute dresses & bows, and also being called Princess or Mistress or Mommy. But then I also get people assuming I'm not dominant bc of how I dress, and I also act pretty cutesy too so it's kind of a switch up when I'm suddenly like 😈 get on your knees. 😈

Like, I'll defend dark jokes 'til I'm six foot deep, and then I'll climb back out to defend them once more, but while the catharsis and the flipping of the dynamic between you and the situation are beneficial, let's not forget the main benefit to dark jokes, or any jokes... they're fuckin' funny, they make us laugh, and that feels a lot better than feeling shitty.

Seriously, today more than ever it's really been hammered home for me just how important laughter is in hard times - whether it's the person in hard times making the joke or somebody else, it's just super important to have that helping hand.

No gym

The one thing that has been weighing really heavily on my mind is the fact that life is so cyclical. When I was sixteen we thought my grandmother was suffering from dementia - turned out she was just addicted to pain killers, and so terrified of the chronic pain that she was over medicating. It took her a long time to sort herself out, for the doctors to sort her out, I lost good years with her because first she was mean because she was high and then she was mean because she wasn't.

I worry my aunts are going down that same road. A year ago I was worried about C.'s inability to recall words. It was more than just momentary slips of the tongue or brain blips. The later in the day it got to be the harder conversations were to have with her. The other night I called because she scared us all half to death and she made no sense on the phone. It was like she was drifting in and out of knowing who I was and what she was doing. 

This is scary for a lot of reasons, but it's most scary because of the moments I catch myself taking an extra Ativan to get through the day, or the fact I find it increasingly hard to sleep without Tylenol Pm or Nyquil. For as long as I can remember I've had an unquiet mind. It isn't something I can just turn off. I worry that this is how it started for my grandmother, for my aunt. 

And then I think I'm overreacting and that it's Tylenol PM and it's not like I take enough to overdose so what is the big damn deal, and why am I such a drama queen?

Then I remember something stupid I did in third grade and want to throw myself in front of a bus. 

I wish I was exaggerating. 

Now I'm going to shut up and try to sleep even though my brain is already trying to pick up on something stupid for me to obsess over until I cry.