A lot of people are telling me I’m doing well. I don’t really know what that means. A lot of people have said that they are impressed with how I’m handling everything. I don’t know what else I would be doing. I get things done between the meltdowns, I suppose. I try to save my crying fits for private moments but I don’t always win.
I’m run pretty ragged. I very rarely physically stop. Yet, I just can’t get to a place where I get caught up. When I get cleaning in one room something in another gets broken or spilled. I have so few hours without Spencer by my side I need to use them for things I can’t do when he’s in tow (like everything).
I keep looking around at this impossible game of whack a mole and I’m at a loss. I swear normal human beings can manage housework AND somehow have interests or hobbies AND jobs.
I can’t.
Even without a steady job I can’t manage daily chores. Even if I have help I can’t manage keeping clutter to a minimum. Even after loads of things going to the dump I can’t function like normals do.
I can’t do it.
I don’t know what the answer is. Some things I just can’t do.
If I could, I wouldn’t have struggled so much in school and been subjected to tests and doctors and shrugged shoulders. If I could, I would have graduated top of my class. If I could, I would have chosen and stuck with a career path. If I could, I would have a lot more to show for the time I’ve spent on the planet.
If I knew how to be less like me I would be. Most days I’d rather be anything or anyone else. Then I wake up and I’m still me.
With the added bonus of words echoing through my memory about how terrible I am as a person, partner, friend and parent.
I’m not doing well at all.
I’m completely crushed all the time.
I don’t know how to manage any of this. I can’t keep up with the stuff I have to do as a regular ADHD burnout. How the fuck am I supposed to juggle the shit I already couldn’t juggle with a bunch of extra stuff added on?
I can’t. I can’t do it. I never mastered being a person. If I could, life would have been so different.
I’m so tired of my best being subpar. I’m so tired of truly giving my whole self to a task and failing. Always in some big way that inconveniences others and makes me wish I was not here.
Too messy. Too busy. Too crazy. Too lazy. Too loud. Too emotional. Too self centred. Too much information.
I’d take criticism better if it wasn’t so constant in so many places. If I hadn’t driven away a lot of people by being “a lot”.
Maybe then it wouldn’t have to feel like I’m dying everytime I screw up.
It’s always been this. Lindsay trying very hard and disappointing people who get too close. It’s just that every other time I still had my mom.
Even though I’ve failed everyone else, I always had my mom.
So what am I supposed to do now?
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