Unraveling Again

I wish there were a pause button — a way to stop everything — once I've overloaded my plate to the brink of collapse.
ADHD & the City | posted by Jane D. | Monday July 14th - 1:47pm
Filed Under: ADHD and Relationships, ADHD Social Skills
Jane D.

I have been a blog slacker lately. I kind of just checked out. There was the trip to tornado land, where I watched swimming with a swim friend, and then, once again, I fell into the trap of overloading my plate to the point where it's on the brink of collapsing or cracking.

Perhaps I've fallen into a mild depression after I was dumped by the guy I've been swimming and breakfasting with since November. Over the months, over oatmeal and waffles, over email flirting, he'd grown on me, like mold. He kept his distance though and never kissed me, and, like a fool, I fell for him and put my heart out there.

A few days ago, he sent me an email and said he only likes me as a friend and nothing more, because he sensed I wanted more. This is the price I pay for putting my emotions out there, for deceiving myself.

I wonder if my ADD got me in trouble this time, because at the start, I didn't pay attention. I was too busy salivating on the older Casanova whom I went skiing with and who has disappeared. I don't even remember the details of the conversation that the swim guy and I had. I wonder if impulsivity and impatience led him to dump my sorry ass.

I'm once again falling into the pattern of beginnings and no ends. I'm white-hot over something, then the novelty fast wears off, and then, when I lose it, I melt into tears.

Over the past few weeks, I've been falling behind on bills, on paperwork; the collection agency has rung me. I was late for two job interviews, making excuses that the trains are stalled. I am always apologizing and feeling like an idiot.

I have been considering asking the psychiatrist to up the dosage on Adderall. Maybe it's worn off; maybe I'm metabolizing it like an SUV on gas. I have a million thoughts a day: I will get a Ph.D., I will go to Italy, I will write a book about pens, I will learn to do water ballet, I will be a designer – and in the end I do nothing.

It's all in my head. I wish there was a pause button and a way to stop this. I would want nothing more than to be at peace, and to be in a place where I no longer have to say "I'm sorry."

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