Today was a short day at work as I took a half-day. Originally I just wanted to veg out but ended up planning on going to Costco to get our protein for the week. Normally I struggle at any grocery store with wanting to look at everything to see what’s new. I also have no impulse control so I end up buying crap I didn’t need but it was ‘new’.

But since I take a little magic methylphenidate pill every morning, I managed to stay on track. I purchased only what I needed from my 2 grocery trips. When I got home I immediately tidied up the kitchen: Put away dishes; emptied out the fridge of leftovers; loaded those containers in the dishwasher. Once I was done with that I went ahead and tidied up around the living room, picked up Bucky’s stuff/blankets and ran a few loads of laundry.

The best part was that I started off not wanting to do anything when I got home. Figured I could just do some cleaning tomorrow morning or even on Sunday. Putting stuff off is my MO. Then I started to argue with myself (gotta love inner monologue) and gave myself an hour to do what I could and then I could enjoy the rest of the day. But nope, I wasn’t done.

I didn’t stop to scroll through a show to put on in the background. Didn’t scroll through Apple Music to find music to listen to. I didn’t even know where my phone was at this point. I just cleaned from 12:30-2:50pm. I didn’t even know it had been that long. My plants were in dire need of watering so I tended to my 50+ collection. Then vacuuming the floors were up next. But once I finished there I didn’t wanna do anything else so I’ll put off mopping.

It feels so embarrassing that I’m writing about doing basic chores and I’m 39 years old. But then I remember I have severe ADHD. I struggle with executive dysfunction, time blindness, inattentiveness… pretty much the trifecta of hell. That’s not even all of it! Being able to accomplish these tasks is a massive win for me. I spent all of my life thinking I was a worthless piece of shit. Hearing it from my parents my whole life contributed to that worthlessness.

“Do the dishes, it’ll only take you 10 minutes” is what I’d hear my mom spew at me. And yet in all those years of dishes taking me hours to do, she never bothered to understand what the fuck was wrong with me.

I just wish younger me was diagnosed so I could have received better support. Maybe if my parents weren’t so goddamn emotionally immature. Maybe if they paid some attention to me after I turned 9.

But that’s a different post for a different day.