When people talk about ADHD, they think about the kid that can’t sit still in class. They think about the boys that get into trouble all the time. Or the girl that can’t stop talking a mile a minute. Well, Tuesday it was confirmed that I do have ADHD Inattentive type and the best thing I can describe it as is my mind being a puppy playing in the snow. Continue reading “My Diagnosis: Inattentive Type (Cocoon)”
Packing my suitcases was the most extremely stressful part of this experience. Time was escaping me and I grew frantic trying to think of everything I had to do. My blue suitcase contained my valuables: Passport, Social Security Card, My mother’s gold necklace, pictures of me as a child and of my family, and my Xbox of course!
(You can check out part one here)
I’ve written multiple times about my struggles with Mental Health. I’ve talked about Depression multiple times over, Anxiety, ADHD, Medication, and Social Media Addiction. I’m going into another phase of the process. Getting essential help.
When dealing with mental health, it’s difficult on navigating what is right and what is wrong to do. Is the issue something situational? Is the issue chemical? Is it something that can be modified by behavior? Do you have to use a combination of all of them? Yes. The answer is yes. Continue reading “Medication Hesitation”
As a moment of clarity, I’m mentally struggling right now. I’ve hit a wall all semester about self-worth, anxiety, motivation, depression, self-care, writer’s block, fear, and everything else. I’m blessed beyond belief to be at an amazing school like Chapel Hill in amazing programs, but I can’t help but feel lost, unprepared, and weak.
If you haven’t picked up a theme for this year; I have talked my ADHD, personal doubts, creativity blocks, nontraditional addictions, bloodline curses, and Depression multiple times. The moral of the story is that emotional and mental care matters. I was amazed to find that my posts on my mental peculiarities seem to help my readers the most. Today, I’ll speak on my last major mental barrier that has made me who I am, Anxiety! *birthday streamer sound*
It’s a puzzling conundrum when your livelihood and passion collide. We fantasize about getting paid boatloads of money for talents but never think about what makes it a passion. What happens when you take away the fluidity, spontaneity, and freedom from a hobby? What do you do knowing that you have to be creative or else the bills won’t get paid?
As a follow-up to yesterday’s post talking about depression and the struggles I went through, I wanted to talk about my healing process. It all started with self. Continue reading “Finding the Balance”
This is part 2 of a series. If you have not read the first one. Please catch up here.This is dedicated to anyone struggling with mental health issues. This is my story. You are not alone. Don’t give up!
NOTE: I am not a mental health expert. I spent years studying psychology but abnormal psychology was not my focus. If you are having suicidal thoughts, please see a mental health expert.
Before going into Delivered from Distraction, I neglected a part of my story. I didn’t cover cover in my foray into prescribed medication. I was not an easy decision. I was scared. My mother had problems with drugs at one point and I was scared to follow down those footsteps. We spend the majority of our lives either walking in the pathway our parents left or avoiding it. The combination of half of my family “not believing” in depression and the other half worrying I’d get addicted to mood enhancers made me feel that the only way to find a solution was to seek it out myself. Continue reading “Black & Depressed Pt. 2”
This post is dedicated to each person struggling with depression. You are not alone and don’t give up.
NOTE: First and foremost, I want to make clear that I am not a mental health expert. I spent years studying psychology but abnormal psychology was not my main focus. If you are having suicidal thoughts, please see a mental health expert.
I’ve struggled greatly with mental issues. Growing up in the Black community, depression did not exist. If I told my family that I was depressed, it was equated to sadness and quickly dismissed. Now, when I was young, I had no clue about depression. I dealt with old girlfriends that suffered with depression but were more bipolar than depressed. I could see the manic periods followed by depressed periods. I could tell the difference because I knew how they were contrast. This often made it hard to look at myself. I decided that what I struggled with was not depressive enough. Continue reading “Black & Depressed Pt. 1”