Category: Uncategorized

• Self-Care for the Neurospicy: Lowering the Bar Has Never Felt So Good

  If you’d asked me ten years ago what “self-care” meant, I probably would’ve rattled off a list that sounded like the cover of a wellness magazine: bubble baths, sheet masks, spa days, maybe a yoga class if I was feeling wild. It always seemed like something effortlessly serene people did while sipping herbal tea in matching loungewear. Meanwhile, I was just trying to remember if I’d brushed my teeth that day!!

  Now, in my forties and after discovering that ADHD (and probably autism) have been riding shotgun with me this whole time, my definition of self-care has dramatically shifted.

  For me, self-care means structure, rest, and permission. It’s saying “nope” to plans that drain me and “yes” to wearing the same soft hoodie five days in a row because sensory-friendly fashion is a real thing. It’s giving up on the fantasy of morning routines that start with journaling and sun salutations and accepting that my version might be hitting snooze four times and trying to remember where I put my socks.

  

  I used to think self-care was indulgent. Now I know it’s preventative maintenance. When your brain is juggling executive dysfunction, sensory overload, and the Olympic-level sport of masking in social situations, you start to see your energy as a precious, non-renewable resource, kind of like my ability to tolerate small talk.

  Some days, self-care is a win because I finally called to book that appointment I’ve been avoiding since 2022. Other days, it’s choosing to do absolutely nothing and not mentally flogging myself for it. I’ve started asking, “What would I tell a friend in this situation?” and then trying to extend the same grace to myself. (Spoiler: I am much nicer to other people.)

  Self-care isn’t always glamorous. Sometimes it’s reheating the same meal for the third time because it’s safe and familiar. Sometimes it’s cancelling plans with a deeply heartfelt “I’m so sorry, my brain is full.” But it’s real. It’s necessary. And honestly, giving myself the space to redefine what self-care means outside of Instagram aesthetics and societal expectations might be the most caring thing I’ve ever done.

  29/04/2025

  adhd, autism, executive dysfunction, late diagnosis, masking, neurodivergent

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• Breaking Free: Healing After a Lifetime with Narcissistic Family Members

  For over 40 years, I tried to be good enough.

  Good enough to be loved, accepted, and maybe one day finally seen. But when your family is full of narcissistic personalities, that day never comes. No matter how hard you try, how much you bend, shrink, or twist yourself into a version you think they’ll be proud of… it’s never enough.

  And worse, you’re often made to feel like an embarrassment just for existing the way you are.

  But with narcissistic family members, the rules constantly change. One day you’re too much. The next, you’re not enough. You become so consumed with trying to fit the mold that you lose sight of who you are.

  It took me decades to see the cycle for what it was: emotional manipulation, control, and a complete disregard for my boundaries or well-being. And once I saw it, I couldn’t unsee it.

  The breaking point came slowly, then all at once. A collection of moments where I realized my mental health was deteriorating not because I was weak, but because I was exhausted from trying to earn love from people who withheld it as a weapon. I started to recognize how their voices had become my inner critic. I began to understand that the anxiety, the depression, the constant second-guessing of myself… it wasn’t just me. It was the damage they left behind.

  Choosing to step away was terrifying. I wrestled with guilt and shame. Society tells us family is everything, but what happens when your family is the source of your deepest pain?

  What happens is this: you survive. You heal. You finally get to exhale.

  Since creating distance emotionally and physically my world has changed. I no longer live in constant fear of judgment. I don’t walk on eggshells, anticipating the next passive-aggressive jab or silent treatment. I’m learning to trust myself again. To see my worth outside of what they tried to convince me I was.

  Healing hasn’t been linear. Some days still hurt. Also throw the joy of ADHD and over thinking everything. But now I understand that breaking free wasn’t selfish it was necessary. It was the only way to start reclaiming my peace. I so desperately needed that peace.

  

  If you’ve been made to feel like you’re never enough, I want you to know something: you are not the problem. You are not an embarrassment. You are not too sensitive, too emotional, too anything. You’ve been surviving in an environment that made you question your value! Stepping away from that isn’t weakness. It’s courage.

  It took me 40+ years to stop trying to be “good enough” for them and start being enough for myself. And that’s the best thing I’ve ever done.

  Below is a picture I drew in a drawing therapy session. Speaks volumes!

  

  21/04/2025

  abuse, adhd, emotionally manipulating, family, gas lighting

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• Diagnosed with ADHD in My 40s: Finally, the Missing Piece

  For most of my life, I’ve carried a quiet question in the back of my mind: Why is everything so hard for me when it seems so easy for everyone else? I didn’t have the words for it growing up, and I certainly didn’t have the tools. But recently, in my forties, I was diagnosed with ADHD and suddenly, it all made sense. I am also awaiting an Autism assessment.

  The diagnosis didn’t change who I am, but it gave me a new lens to look through. A kinder one. A lens that offered understanding instead of judgment.

  Looking Back: The Struggles I Didn’t Understand

  As a kid, I was labeled everything from “daydreamer” to “lazy.” I was always losing things, forgetting homework, zoning out in class. Teachers thought I wasn’t trying hard enough. I thought they were probably right.

  What they didn’t see was how hard I was trying. How my brain would buzz with a million thoughts at once. How I’d start a project full of energy, only to hit a wall of mental fog I couldn’t explain. How overwhelmed I felt by things that didn’t seem to bother anyone else.

  I wasn’t unmotivated or careless, I was undiagnosed.

  Adulthood Didn’t Magically Fix It

  I always thought I’d “grow out of it,” whatever it was. Spoiler: I didn’t.

  Adult life brought its own challenges managing time, staying organized, remembering appointments, starting and finishing tasks. Juggling work, relationships, and everyday responsibilities felt like a constant uphill climb.

  I blamed myself for a long time. Why couldn’t I just get it together?

  Turns out, I wasn’t broken, I was just wired differently.

  The Diagnosis: Relief, Grief, and Everything In Between

  When I finally got diagnosed, I felt a strange mix of emotions. I burst into tears! Relief that I wasn’t imagining it. Validation that there was a reason for my struggles. But also grief for the years spent thinking I was somehow not enough. For the little kid who was trying her best and didn’t know why it wasn’t working.

  Getting a diagnosis in midlife isn’t the end of the story, it’s the beginning of a new one. It’s a chance to go back and rewrite the narrative. To stop seeing myself as a mess and start seeing myself as a human who was doing the best she could with what she had.

  What I Know Now

  I’ve learned that ADHD isn’t a character flaw—it’s a neurological difference. I’ve started to explore strategies and supports that actually work for me, not against me. I’m giving myself permission to do things differently. To rest when I need to. To ask for help. To stop measuring myself by neurotypical standards.

  And most of all, I’ve started to show myself the compassion I needed decades ago.

  To Anyone Reading This

  If you’ve ever felt like you’re always one step behind, like life is harder for you than it should be, know this: You’re not lazy. You’re not broken. And it’s never too late to understand yourself more fully.

  Getting diagnosed with ADHD in my forties didn’t fix everything. But it gave me answers. It gave me tools. And it gave me hope.

  That’s more than I ever thought I’d have and it’s just the beginning.

  

  18/04/2025

  adhd, autism, late diagnosis

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