‘Does YOUR watch tell you what year it is?’ ‘Of course not,’ Alice replied very readily: ‘but that’s because it stays the same year for such a long time together.’

It is hard to see changes.
They sometimes happen so slowly hat they are easy to miss.
Today I told a coworker how I had spent the first thirty years of my life being late for everything.
She was flabbergasted and had a hard time believing me.
That was a nice moment.
I read somewhere the importance of rewards as self motivation.
Of recognizing steps achieved towards a greater goal.
chip, chip, chip away at the stone.
Hand over hand towards the light.

Further down.

I am falling....still.
Losing fingernails trying to stop my descent.
The walls crumble in my grasp as I momentarily forget that I am supposed to be holding on, climbing, struggling, and tumble downward once more. Again.
Any progress lost. Start again again and hope and hope and hope that no one notices
or worse yet are pulled down, down, down with me.
The circle of light above me grows smaller and smaller.

"It's the stupidest tea-party I ever was at in all my life!”

Do you ever feel like your mind is a group of people sitting around a table arguing about what you should spend your time doing and not listening to each other?

Suffering

"Man cannot remake himself without suffering, for he is both the marble and the sculptor." - Alexis Carrel

“I can't go back to yesterday because I was a different person then.” ― Alice

Is that so, Alice?
Well, it certainly doesn't feel that way today.
A while back, during my first meeting with my occupational therapist who was supposed to help me find alternate strategies to medicine for dealing with my ADHD, she began the process of booking a meeting for me with a psychologist. This person could get me on medication if I felt that I needed it. I was hoping that over the summer i would figure out some strategies that i would use to overcome some of my freaking chaotic cluster fun of a life. If order did not triumph over chaos, to a certain degree during the summer, than the psychologist would indeed be required to hook a brother up.
i would like to interject with the fact that i am exhausted with this whole situation.
i am tired of being me...or certain parts of me. 
The parts that have me running around like an idiot doing the same jobs over and over again...
well those parts can just bugger off.
So I am getting tired and thought that this meds ultimatum would force me to get my ducks in a row.
No such luck.
Things feel worse.
The process of forcing myself to adopt coping strategies has merely had me starting and changing my approach and starting over and making a gosh darned mess of everything.
so today i found myself telling this pill pusher that i don't feel ready for meds.
then i walked out of her office and was griped by panic...
like maybe i wont figure this out and maybe i will just become too exhausted, too tired to keep trying...
what then?
i will return.

“Would you tell me, please, which way I ought to go from here?" "That depends a good deal on where you want to get to," said the Cat.

Insert background music to this entry.
It seems all the more apparent that i am not at all certain where exactly I am trying to get with all of this...stuff.
I feel as though the more I focus on focus the more I see the fog that has descended upon my mind.
Disconcerting.
But I am moving...perhaps not forward...towards what or where I do not know...and I may be second guessing whether or not the effort is for naught.
but that never stopped me before...
so far:
I have seen an occupational therapist a couple of times and attended a support group for adults with NPF as well as hunted down the documentation of my diagnosis.
I am starting to wonder if this isn't really what my problem is all about.
I read through my diagnosis and it read as though i convinced them that i had ADHD because of my past...living as someone with ADHD...in a house full of ADHD.
but i don't know where else to go to help me with the deficits that i have.
whatever they are.
My support group is a gold mine of strategies for dealing with disorder but most of the people there are really struggling...i mean just to get by...to keep a job or a house or their loved ones.
And so i feel like a phony.

This picture of Frank Grimes pretty much sums up how i imagine people might feel about my current "deficit" hunt. My life is amazing. How did i get here.
Times up.

“Why is a raven like a writing desk?” - The Mad Hatter

questions without answers. 

not all riddles can be solved.

not all riddles are meant to be solved but rather the point is in making the effort...

coming up with your own answer.

Why is a raven like a writing desk?

because i need to sleep, exercise, meditate, visualize and

i cant do this on my own.

so i am seeing an occupational therapist and i have joined a support group for adults with diagnoses.

and i will now go downstairs and work out.

so far to go.

it's exhausting.