eleven o'clock.
I eat Cornflakes,
listen to Gesaffelstein (french techno)
and read Russel Barkely's Taking Charge of Adult ADHD.
I am tired but my mind begins to race.
"Go to bed" one voice says.
"Fuck that" says another. "This dude doesn't even have ADHD...what the hell does he know about it?
Stay up all night writing. dance. go for a bike ride"
but i know that i wont do any of these things...except for maybe write a bit...and dance a bit...and maybe do a few push ups...and end up doing nothing including sleeping...then tomorrow will suck...
but i feel good right now.
exhausted and exhilarated.
Alive.
And i am supposed to learn how not to be that...
from a bunch of people who don't have what i have...
don't feel what i feel...
this must be what a teenager at a counsellor's office feels like...
"you don't know me"
this is hard.
and prescription meds wait for me on Monday.
a phone call away.
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