I grew up in a family that didn’t talk about their feelings very much. I don’t know if it had something to do with being Irish Catholic or a symptom of my parents’ narcissism, but that’s just the way it was. It’s a really hard habit to break, but lord knows I’ve been trying. I’ve been trying really fucking hard.

So here it is: I’m struggling. I am not a happy person and I need to talk about it. Going to try my best to not diffuse this post with humor, because that’s my first defense mechanism every time I talk about whats affecting me.


Best place to start is probably the thing we can all put a name to, even if it’s not something most people understand. I’ve got ADHD. Truth is that I’ve probably had ADHD for a long time, but I never got diagnosed. A lot of people will insist that ADHD isn’t real or they believe it’s just kids who are hyper. Well, I’m not hyper. My brain just works differently. Thoughts are flying all over the place in there, because I’m not producing the normal amount of dopamine, so I guess things just don’t properly catch my attention?

I don’t know a lot about it, but I do know it sucks. It makes work a lot harder than it needs to be (especially if my current task is boring, which is a lot of the tasks I get) and my brain won’t shut the fuck up when I’m trying to go to bed, so I just kind of sit up most nights consumed by a million thoughts (and often a song or two that I can’t shake out).

It makes me a bit of a flake. I struggle and obsess when people express negative emotions my way. I have a million things I want to accomplish every moment, but instead I end up researching what the best Draino alternative is for an hour (this isn’t breaking my no joke rule, it’s what very much so happened when I was trying to write this post).

And it’s hard to explain to people, ya know? It’s not the kind of thing I want to use as an excuse for being a piece of shit, but sometimes its an explanation for why I was being kind of a piece of shit. I can make plans to do something and by the time those plans arrive, I’ve already mentally moved on to hundreds of other “more interesting” things (they aren’t necessarily more interesting, but sometimes I don’t get to decide).

Another kicker is that the treatment for ADHD is to just chug a bunch of stimulants, which have their own hang-ups. People want my drugs for recreational use. They want them to pull an all-nighter. This means I can only get 30 pills at a time and I can only refill those pills within a set number of days from when my prescription is up. It’s like a new brand of anxiety every month when my psychiatrist and/or my pharmacist decide to fuck it all up and I’m left spiraling in an unmedicated state.

Chronic… Everything

I don’t talk about it as much as it affects me, but I’m in constant chronic pain. Like, every second of every day kind of pain. Sometimes its my back, sometimes its my knees, and often its my eyes. This pain comes in a combo with skin rashes and extreme fatigue. It really fucking sucks. Some days its hard to see the good in life, because everything is just so damned hard.

Doctors haven’t been much help. The first doctor I told about this problem (it took me a while to see a doctor, because I don’t know, I’m bad at talking about my problems) diagnosed me with diabetes. You might be wondering, what does diabetes have to do with this chronic pain? Well, turns out nothing really, I just happened to also be diabetic. But he used that diabetes diagnosis as a way to ignore every other symptom. So I moved on to doctor number two, who seemed to mildly believe me, but ultimately sent me to a pain management doctor who was intent on simply giving me steroid injections into my spine. I found out a few weeks later that I’d be a couple of thousand dollars in the hole for a procedure that… did not change things very much. I did learn that it’s incredibly uncomfortable to get a giant needle shoved into your spine (shout out to all the pregnant women who get themselves a shot).

That brings us to today. Or it brings us to recent history, at least, where I realized a few of the things that connect my chronic pain, my rashes, and fatigue. It’s the fucking sun. When I go out into the sun, even for a very brief period of time, it all begins to flair up. I’m still trying to find a new doctor that I can bring this new information to, but a liberal use of sunscreen lotion is helping a little bit. Mostly I’m just playing the part of a vampire and not leaving the house unless absolutely necessary.

I think there might be a food trigger too, but I’m not 100%. Garlic seems to have a similar affect. This isn’t a vampire joke, I’m actually being serious. My aunt has lupus and lupus can be genetic, but I’m not really willing to call it that until I talk to a doctor.


I don’t know what the point of this all was. A cry for help? Therapy minus human interaction? It all just fucking sucks and some days it hits harder than others. Today’s one of those days. Anyways, here’s a really great song by Bomb the Music Industry! called Struggler.