I am often confused. It is rather common these days for someone to make a comment, particularly a joke, and I just stand still trying to piece it all together. There are many things that still occur on automatic, such as driving (I’ve always been a paranoiac, defensive driver), but in serious cogitation, things aren’t quite right anymore.
Years ago I became frustrated at my inability to read. When doing research it was common to scan and evaluate a text. I was rather proud of that ability. There were the occasional assignments that I couldn’t grasp, which was probably a sign of things to come. I don’t recall the rough time that it really struck me that I couldn’t read. It just happened. One day I was devouring books and the next I couldn’t focus on one page without losing myself by the time the page was turned. The craving to read remained, but not the ability.
It’s strange and difficult to explain. Perhaps someone reading this will understand. The inability to read compounds the trouble of writer’s block. I must read to learn and grow, but feel stagnant and trapped in a point of my life that is inescapable.In the years that I began seeking treatment for my mental health issues, one diagnosis is ADHD. I suppose this all fits the bill, particularly when considering a lifetime of untreated depression and anxiety.
Well, the laundry is nearly done and then it’s past time for bed. Thanks for stopping by, friends. I appreciate you all. Hope to see you again and don’t forget to be kind to yourself, darlings.