Just a Small Town Squirrel

Living in a neurotypical world.

We’re all a little ADHD. Right?

That sentence landed in one of two ways: either you were insulted, or you are wrong. Living with neurodivergence, while good for the plot, is actually very, very difficult. It’s even harder when you’ve become an expert at masking your struggles to fit in with your peers, because now we’re all confused. Kinda like when your social media portrays a happy wife, happy life, but IRL, it’s really a sad wife, bad life (guilty). ADHD in women is not widely understood by the psychiatric community. And yes, that is all Ronald Reagan’s fault.

I was not diagnosed with 80HD until I was thirty four years old. I truly, truly don’t know how I made it that far into adulthood without medicinal intervention. How did I not misplace a child, or burn the house down? That’s truly a miracle. Maybe God is real. I got through it, but that doesn’t mean it was easy.

Navigating life with undiagnosed ADHD is like trying to drive without CarPlay. You can do it, sure. But you’ll have to look at your phone for the GPS, and well, that’s illegal. Now try doing that with an Interlock device that beeps while you’re driving, and if you don’t blow? The car will turn off. Oh god, the kids are now fighting, and there’s a cop behind you. See? It’s too many things in at one time.

There’s also been a plastic water bottle rolling around the car this entire time (just shoot me), and your child has been trying to open a package of Goldfish for the last two minutes, unsuccessfully, but refusing any assistance. Oof. I hope you don’t go to jail (although, jail is less stimulating, I promise).

While I wasn’t diagnosed until adulthood, this brain has been on one since day one. Is this because my mother chain smoked cigarettes while I was still baking? We’ll never know, because apparently that type of study is unethical. And since the United States Government is always ethical, how can we be upset? I will never ask anyone to abandon a core value just to entertain me. Well, that’s not totally true. It depends on what the value is (theatrical value).

ADHD is a real bitch, because she’s got big clique energy, and she just can’t handle being alone (thirsty). Prioritizing quantity over quality, all of her comorbid companions are just as awful as she is. Things are getting violent. I think that’s my sensory processing disorder dressed in the Viking costume, although I can’t be totally sure. I don’t have my glasses on, and there’s a lot happening. Holy shit, this is a whole ass insurrection. Is that Nancy Pelosi?!

First up from the problematic posse is Rejection Sensitivity Dysphoria, and oh boy, are you in for a treat. RSD has perfected the art of making something out of nothing, and no, not in the same way our kids use cardboard boxes now. RSD can take even the slightest perception of rejection and convince us that yes, you really were adopted, and nobody told you until right now. Silly dumb girl. Your boyfriend texted you and added a period at the end of his sentence, when he usually doesn’t? That’s a breakup. He hates you, and it’s all your fault.

RSD is so good at her craft, she needs zero communication to develop a conclusion. A shift in the vibe, with no context or warning, is enough for her to Black Friday her way to the front of the line and steal that doorbuster deal right from your fucking hands, with zero explanation. Gasp. It feels important to add, this is a brick and mortar Black Friday, like the good ole days. Prime Day could never. Now imagine having to explain that to a neurotypical person, and have them not understand. Brutal.

Next in the lineup we have Executive Dysfunction, and unfortunately, we cannot shorten this one, because ED is reserved solely for the men (insult). Executive Dysfunction is when you need to complete a task, you want to complete the task, but you are unable to complete the task. Honestly, a lot of similarities with the other ED, except we can’t get it up enough to complete basic tasks, like opening the mail or making an important phone call. The medication that is designed to alleviate this problem also struggles with Executive Dysfunction, and depending on the day, it can either lead us to water (email) or lead us to drink (sleep).

The best way to describe Executive Dysfunction to a neurotypical is this: imagine you are at a stoplight. There is a car in front of you, and the stoplight is red. The task you need to complete is on the opposite side of the intersection. The stoplight turns green, but the car in front of you isn’t moving. You see the task, know how to get there, but you are literally stuck. Yes, the idiot who refuses to move is a man. That’s on pattern recognition, bestie. Now, you’re feeling very sad and bad about yourself, because all the other cars around you are continuing through the intersection. But lucky for you, I’m in your car too. And I always bring good snacks.

Remember the Viking? Turns out that was my sensory processing disorder, and well, there’s a reason they’re dressed like that. SPD is a fucking monster, okay? I’m not even going to sugarcoat it for you, because it impacts me on an intimate level every single day. And it’s horrible. My SPD impacts all five senses, because inclusion is the vibe, and this is no exception.

I want to be very clear here: sensory processing disorders are not the same as preferences. If you are the type of person who dismisses someone who expresses discomfort with something they cannot control, you are a bad person, and I want you to leave. Right now.

Sensory processing issues are not a joke, and they’re also not pet peeves. For me, certain sounds literally send my body into fight or flight. This is called misophonia, and it is absolutely debilitating. There are certain noises that my brain perceives as an absolute threat, and my nervous system is too tired to decipher between chewing noises and imminent danger.

I’ve lived with this my entire life, and I know that it’s mine to own, not yours, or anyone else’s. In most situations, if possible, I will quietly remove myself. In some situations, when I cannot quick exit, my brain says, “Let’s fucking go, bitch. You’re about to die” and then? For legal reasons, I’ll have to keep that close to the cooch. It’s making me anxious just thinking about it.

On to the next one, touch is on the stand. There are certain fabrics that I just don’t fuck with, full stop. Microfiber? Please waterboard me with bleach instead. Just thinking about it made my vagina contract, involuntarily, for protection purposes, I’m sure. I can’t do scratchy fabrics, and wearing closed toed shoes is also just something I won’t be participating in anymore. I’m retired from that life; I will wear socks with sandals if it’s cold out, and I don’t fucking care what anyone says. That’s as far as I'm willing to go. Do not even get me started on tight fighting clothing and/or hard pants. No, no. I won’t be doing any of that, it is against my religion. I would rather grocery shop in person (no).

Squirrel behavior is imperative when you have faulty wiring, because just like squirrels, we too have to find little nuts and hide them for later. Our life depends on it. In your makeup bag. In your purse, and the little pocket in your purse too, just in case. And in your car, and in your wallet. Got pockets? They go there too. While this feels like a brilliant solution to a simple problem, well, it’s not. Because you will forget where they’ve been squirreled, immediately. You’ll look in the bottle of Adderall halfway through the month and wonder where they’ve all gone.

Damn, am I really a drug addict after all? I just didn’t know it because I was so busy doing other things? This is horrible news. No, no. You are not a drug addict, they go to meetings. You are just a small town squirrel, living in a neurotypical world. Go look in all your hiding places, you’ll find one eventually.

Squirreling is also effective because ultimately, the end of the month will come and go, almost like clockwork. And while you finally found the motivation to request the refill, four days late, the motivation is gone before you can complete the next step: picking it up. So there it sits, hanging in its little bag in the pharmacy, waiting, waiting, waiting. Good thing you’ve prepared for this. You’ve got one in the little pocket of the other pocket, so a pharmacy trip is crossed off the to-do list for today. You fucking go, girl.

My favorite part of ADHD is hyperfixation, but that’s subject to change at any moment. ADHD brains don’t process dopamine like other, more responsible, brains. You can feed it all the dopamine you want, but that bitch is a picky eater, and it’s not because of sensory issues this time. We can absolutely judge this, without guilt, and we will be doing just that. The brain’s the HBIC here. It’s her world, we’re just living in it, and she makes the rules (scary).

I’ve been through many, many hyperfixes in my life. Some are food related, which means I will literally only be able to eat one food until my brain decides, “Actually? I never liked any of that, thank you very much.” It’s over - the hyperfix fled in the night, just like your dad. I ate poverty nachos exclusively for over four months straight, and they had to be made exactly the same every time. On a paper plate (poverty), with a specific blend of cheese, the chips had to be a specific brand, too. The chips had to be placed a certain way on the paper plate, and the cheese had a similar set of rules. Thirty two seconds in the microwave (no more, no less). When I tell you that’s the only thing I could eat for months, I am not exaggerating. Then one day I woke up and I never ate another plate of nachos again. Autism has entered the chat.

Hyperfixations apply to all aspects of my life. Food, music, TV shows, activities, vocal stims. When you’re locked in, ain’t shit you can do to change it, no point in even trying. Might as well just saddle up and enjoy the ride (that’s what she said). My current auditory fixation is Kanye West saying the word ‘sarcophagus’ in the song Monster. Headphones just aren’t cutting it though. I need that shit injected directly into my fucking veins, just like Hunter Biden (accolade).

Another thing that is hard to explain to neurotypical people is how intense our feelings and emotions are. I’ve only lived with this operating system, but I am confident that I feel things on a different level than people who don’t need medication to function. It’s a rollercoaster, and the plastic clip on the seatbelt is cracked from excessive sun exposure and usage.

Having ADHD honestly is shit, but even shit shines, sometimes. I literally just made that up, but it’s true. Because although we’re in a shit situation, that is incurable and likely terminal, we always find our people in the wild. And that IS the shit. There’s something magnetic (which could explain the dopamine absorption issue, now that I’m really thinking about it) that pulls us all together, and I think that’s really beautiful. It’s really helpful when all your friends have the same mental disorders as you do, as well as matching prescriptions.

The pharmacy just texted me (again) and said if I don’t pick up my four medications right the fuck now, they’re going to put them back, and then annihilate my entire family. Seems dramatic, they’ve only been waiting a week. What’s one more day….?