Perpetual Chaos

 Executive Dysfunction This is the term for when you have a task to do, and you see this need, and you may know the steps you need to take, and it's not like you don't know how- but you just. can't. start. Once or two instances of this happening isn't necessarily going to be the worst thing, but when it keeps happening and the mental to-do starts avalanching on top of you... it becomes hard to do anything. By itself it isn't a diagnosis (according to my understanding #not a professional, just a random person), but it is a symptom that can be brought to the issues party by things like depression, anxiety, and cptsd, among a whole host of others.  Personally, my mental critic is so harsh that I normally keep on top of school in an anxiety fueled obsessive way. However, executive dysfunction starts to show up with things like doing the dishes, household chores, feeding myself/ self care in general, actually giving myself a break from the obsessive school mindset to do ...

Hello! Guest post—but I'll let the content be its own introduction.  Of course, there are “good” memories. Times when the little girl who didn’t understand who he was—or anyone was—felt cared for. What is my responsibility in regard to those memories? I am not interested in constructing a fictional person in memory, when I know the acts that offered interest or kindness were structured by someone else. He would never have thought to sit and read a child a chapter book without having been directly told to. He would never have apologized for berating her to tears, were he not instructed to. The acts that seem to represent some positive portion of our experience together don’t really have any relation to the will of the person who left. But, they do have value as times I practiced feeling as though I could rely on someone, without connection to that missing person as an individual. With the insight of years gone past, it’s become clear those times were mistaken, but they were still pr...

Photo Credit: Harry Cunningham on Unsplash Extracting the physical presence of your hurt is almost done. I say the presence of your hurt and not just your presence because all you have ever brought is pain in the end. You were supposed to be a parent, and the relationship that grew on that space has been twisted and painfully grotesque. Like a diseased tree that infects everything around it; your influence has cost me dearly over the years- in friends, extended family, romantic relationships, and especially my own mental health. So it is beyond time; to yell timber and walk away. I feel a strange mix of joy in all this grief. Because even though this means cutting off the possibility of there ever being good parts, it also means I am done. You won't have the same leverage to hurt me and wreak havoc on my world. Soon, there will be no new stuff to process, I will just be working with the residual effect of your poison, without being forced to drink more. That to me feels like a stra...

Photo Credit: Matthias Neufeld from Unsplash   You're gone now, not that you were ever there to begin with. But with the hole comes the affirmation that the pieces never really fit, like that Daniel Sloss comedy special that breaks people up. But instead of my romantic pieces being the problem, it is the family corner. The pieces never fit, one of my corners has always been kind of fucked. That hole has always been there, because you never fit, it's just when removing the pieces that have been jammed in place, actively hurting the progress, do I realize. Now I finally mourn, because I can see other people's puzzles and how mine will never look close to that. You warped me and hurt me throughout my childhood, in a way that I can never fill and can never forgive. Even if I heal, and I will, the scars of your handiwork remains in my puzzle. Instead of being a normal child, I became a highly anxious one, trained from years of walking on your eggshells, discarding myself so that...

Photo Credit: Ahmad Odeh from Unsplash I have a lot of left over feelings from years ago, insecurities, sadness, anger, and feelings of loneliness that culminate in an inner child that sits in the back of my mind. Sometimes the sadness culminates in quiet tears when something gets too close to an old wound, as my inner child hides in a corner of my mind. Sometimes the insecurities bubble up when I come across something that is hard for me to handle, especially if it is something conventionally easy, like making a phone call, talking to strangers for the sake of errands, or dealing with an insect that has wandered into the house. Inside I start feeling shaky and it's as if I am younger than the rest of the world again, struggling to do things others do without consideration. I know this aspect can instigate frustration in those around me, as I put off ordering take-out for an otherwise fun night (when it isn't online that is), angst for hours about calling to set appointments fo...

  So, I work/study in the science field, which is awesome, and a good portion of my day I know what I am doing and feel amazing at finally getting to contribute in a field I love. Photo Credit: National Cancer Institute through Unsplash However, there are 5-10 minutes every morning, where I wake up and it hits me that someone was fooled enough by my impression of a real adult to give me that chance. I have to go through the steps of reminding myself that I am an adult, that I worked for where I am, and even then it takes a while for the feeling to fade. This feeling is often described as "imposter syndrome" and is very common, but what I find myself wondering is if everyone feels this way occasionally. I almost find the idea comforting, that Albert Einstein, or Marie Curie may have felt this way; people hailed so highly as major historical influences that sometimes we forget they may have had their own fears, doubts, and feelings of inadequacy. It calms my inner child, to kee...