Just started the ADHD Awakening Assessment and already realized something big: my follow-through never depended on willpower. When someone needed me, I just did it. Now that it's only me I answer to, my brain has nothing to push against. That's a wiring pattern, not a flaw.

Hiya! Write Something. I'm falling apart. I'm experiencing Crying ... from childhood experiences. I guess you can say that I'm estranged from my immediate family tho I'm trying to stay in contact with my cousins (everyone has a life). My brother is a PITA in the worse, absolute worse way. My Father has been passed for almost 30 years from natural causes. My mother is alive and despises me to the upmost extent that she doesn't ever want to see me again (this is the 3rd time, I think and not being punny - she's blind now). I sometimes think that she wanted me to be a boy, not a girl OR maybe not at all. The phrase "If you treat me this way, why did you ever want me to be born?" has been in the back of my mind lots of time before I turned age 10. Can one not fit in a family that you were born into? Lots of crying. I've been suicidal since age 7 and all this crying just brings it back. I've been hospitalized and treated many times and had 3 therapists (I've had more) that I actually loved being in therapy (CBT). I thought I left this all behind (fixed) and gotten over it (Do we really 'get over' it?). I have a nice life (tho unemployed now, will be turning 61 this July), a wonderful husband (we're 2 crazy people and our families put us there literally-he'll be turning 49 too in July), 2 wonderful loving dogs (but they act like puppies- 1 and 1 1/2 years) and a house (which needs upgrading, we're in our 3rd year here and the first house we own). Yet I'm crying all over again. It's not that I'm reliving my past (eek! horrors no) but I'm seeing it not as a child but as an adult and it makes me cry because I can't help me (the then child). I see the suffering, the heartaches, the joys and the not-joys. The confusion, the anger and rage, and feeling soo lost so often. And I can't help me. I can't make it better. I'm glad it's the past because all that has to stay back there, where it belongs, where it can rot (we say that alot, maybe I should say compost, at least it would be good for something), where it can't reach out to make me hurt again (living it once was pain enough).