syncopated beats
trying to honour my rhythms and foibles.
I have three phone cases. Not because I have three phones, but because there are times when I suddenly decide that I ‘need’ to change my phone case because I get the urge to feel a different texture (plastic? silicone? leather?) or see a different colour (black? bright? clear?) or prioritise a different functionality (more protection? thinner/lighter? the ability to hang cutesy accessories?) This might seem indulgent, frivolous or even wasteful—I’ve said all these things to myself many times—but I’ve come to appreciate the spurt of joy and motivation that I get from these occasional change-ups. If something simple like that can give me a boost, and I’m lucky enough that it’s still within my means, then why not?
It’s always felt like there are a lot of ‘should’s in my life. I should be more sensible. I should be thriftier. I should work harder. I should be kinder. I should be more responsible. I should be more thoughtful. I should pay more attention. I should plan more and not be so impulsive. No matter what I did or how hard I tried it still felt like there was a ‘should’ hanging over my head, reminding me of the ways in which I’d fallen short.
I’ve told myself that, to be more productive and make sure I don’t slack off, I should try to keep to regular office hours even if I’m a freelancer who works from home. It made sense: it’d introduce order to my life and also reassure myself at the end of the day that I’d done about as much as an office worker would have, so I wouldn’t worry so much about whether I was lazier than the next person. And for a little while—maybe two weeks?—it did seem to work. Then it didn’t.
I’ve told myself that I should go running late at night, at the end of the day when all the work is done and the sun is down and it’s no longer so hot. Then I told myself that maybe I should go running early in the morning and get exercise out of the way before starting my day, and made myself roll out of bed at 6am. Neither lasted.
I can go on but I think you get the idea. I’ve spent much of my life coming up with strategies and plans, telling myself that if I could just stick to this or that approach everything would work out from then on. I’ve consistently attempted to impose order and rules on myself, always determined from the outset to form some new habit that’ll transform my life for the better for good. These things were supposed to bring me closer to what, and how, I thought I should be.
After 36 years of doing that—which, I think you will agree, is very many years, the most number of years I’ve ever experienced—I’m now coming ‘round to the idea that instead of fretting about what I should do or be like, I should instead work on embracing what I am. And what I am is a mess. Oh yes. A chaos gremlin trapped in an introvert workaholic’s body.
(By the way, since we’re on the subject of flighty chaos brain, you might have noticed that I’ve shifted this entire blog/newsletter from Beehiiv to Buttondown. I’ve never used Buttondown before and had never really thought of trying it out, but it occurred to me out of nowhere three hours ago that I wanted to do this. So here we are.)
While reflecting on life post-ADHD diagnosis, I realised that, long before it’d even occurred to me that ADHD might have been a possibility, I’d already designed my career and lifestyle in a way that suited my neurospicy noggin. I don’t work regular hours, I don’t report to the same place daily, I do work that’s at least a little bit different every day. The few times I’ve done full-time office work only reminded me how glad I am for the flexibility I have—it might not be as financially rewarding or secure to be freelancing the way I’ve been for most of my working life, but I don’t think I’d have done very well within the routines and structures of a full-time office (or even newsroom) position.
This is just how my brain works. This is just how I work. The only thing that’s consistent is the inconsistency, and I’m beginning to learn to accept it rather than treat it like some terrible character flaw. I’m neither a morning nor night person, I’m an “it depends” person. I can go jogging late at night sometimes or head to the gym early(ish) in the morning at others. Sometimes I get really into reading ebooks on a reader, other times I can’t stand anything except the pleasure of flipping the pages of a paperback. Sometimes I pop up at 8am raring to get writing or editing, other times my brain only really gets into the zone at night. And yes, sometimes I need to change the covers on my phone so I can run my fingers across a different texture. I used to tick myself off internally for being so flighty and messy, but now I’m asking, “So what?” As long as I’m not inflicting harm on anyone, why shouldn’t I live in accordance with my own pace and interests and foibles? Why shouldn’t I indulge in my small but certain happinesses?
Surely life doesn’t have to be a constant fight against myself and my nature, no matter how random or unorthodox it might be. (And honestly? I don’t even think I’m very unorthodox. I can be quite square. A chaotic square.)
Arriving at this conclusion wasn’t so hard. Living it is a different story, especially when it isn’t about mere indulgences but workloads and time. It’s a struggle most days. As I said in therapy recently about my failure to take a day off and let myself rest, “There was hope, but then there was reality.”
Some time back I told myself to just give following my own rhythm a shot. Work when I feel like it, rest when I want, sleep as much as I need. Stop struggling against my own instincts. Listen to my body and that gremlin brain and see how it goes. What’s the worst that could happen?
It sounded good. I was ready to do it. Then there was Pannir’s execution notice and the panicked flurry of activity that followed, and when that passed it took a little while to orientate myself again. Then the work began to pile on, and all plans of “just following my rhythm” got put on the back burner. I told myself I could experiment with that once I got through this busy period. But the problem is that it’s pretty much always a busy period, and the whole point is to stop treating rest and slowing down as a vacation activity for a vacation that I almost never take. (A couple of sessions ago my therapist asked when the last time I’d taken an extended break—i.e. no work at all, only rest—was. I couldn’t remember. Checking my calendar, I think it was probably a week in October 2021.)
The other night I attended a meeting I was clearly too exhausted to attend. I knew this was going to be the case even when asked if I’d be able to make it. I knew I should have said “no”, but what I actually said was “sure”. I spent the entire time struggling to focus or even process what was being discussed; not only was I no help to anyone, I was even more knackered and overstimulated by the end.
I’m perfectly capable of recognising how counterproductive this is, how it’d have been so much better—for myself and the people around me—if I’d just listened to my body and respected my own pace. I’ve been telling myself for years now that it’s okay to slow down and care for myself more. I’ve tried to practice this: I’ve turned down some things I would previously have said yes to, taken a step back from stuff that I would previously have felt anxious about backing out of, started going to therapy and allowing myself more time off. But old habits die hard. Turns out trying to undo a lifetime of conditioning is the hardest thing I’ve ever had to do.
I wiped out today. The signs have been around for a little while: the simmering resentment of my mental load, the brain melt (not helped by the effect of my ADHD meds wearing off at the end of the day), my eyes more bloodshot than usual, the dry and cracked skin on my eyelid, the cold sore that sprouted overnight. Still, I told myself that I had a lot of work to get through, that I just needed to get past this stage, that maybe I could do just a little bit more (and then a bit more, and a bit more after that). A trauma response-filled day finally tipped it over the edge. This morning I woke up with a sore throat and the heavy, foggy feeling that I can only describe as “heaty”. It means I’m coming down with something and if I don’t stop now, it’ll be something big. I know this because I’ve been through this cycle over and over, because I’ve consistently pushed myself to this stage where my body forces me to put the brakes on. And sometimes I still don’t.
I’ve got a bunch of things on my to-do list for this weekend: thousands of words’ worth of articles to edit, emails to respond to, tasks to complete. Even now I feel bad about not doing them. But I’m trying to do what’s best for myself, so instead of forcing myself to critically read through a 2,000-word essay I let myself sit on the sofa with my lunch and watch the k drama Love Next Door.
In the show, Bae Seok-ryu (played by Jung So-min) is a high-achieving daughter her mother loves to boast about: she won scholarships to study in the US, graduated with flying colours and got a job in one of the biggest, most sought-after companies in the world. But she’s home all of the sudden, and her family are horrified to hear she’s quit her job and broken off her engagement with a hotshot lawyer. Seok-ryu doesn’t say much about why she did all this but admits to her oldest friend—and eventual love interest, of course, this is k drama—Choi Seung-hyo (played by Jung Hae-in) that she’d burnt out and shut down. I’m only about a third into the drama. At this stage Seok-ryu is trying to figure out how she wants to “reboot” her life. She reflects on how fixated she was on impressing and pleasing people—parents, teachers, classmates, neighbours—and wonders who she really is after all the (over)achievements have been stripped away.
I’m relating hard here. So much of how I think of myself and who I am is tied to the things that I do, which is probably why I do so many things and struggle to stop. I’ve grown more accepting of my gremlin brain over the past year, but I still don’t know how to recognise myself and my needs over the constant motion of work and obligation.
From here on in my mission is to stop hovering over myself like a boss constantly suspicious that her employee (also me) is ripping her off. I’ve spent too long constantly vigilant against “slacking off”; it’s high time I start being vigilant about whether I’m actually getting what I really need.
