My ADHD Struck Again
WTF Did I Write Yesterday?
I woke up at 4 a.m. thinking: WTF did I write yesterday?
Another project slaughtered by my ADHD. I’m just sitting here and could cry. Nothing ever sticks to me. Fifty-five years of ADHD and I’m fucking exhausted. I don’t see any chance that anything in my life will ever blossom.
Yesterday I posted something I had prepared for days — only to wake up today with the shittiest brain on the planet. This little voice in my head says:
WTF is this? You did it — why? I’m not continuing this shitshow. Rip it apart and go back to bed.
I have no one to talk to. I just sat there for an hour with no idea what to do. The voice in my brain keeps repeating like a scratched vinyl record:
Kill it. Kill it. Kill it.
I put so much into the whole project just to get it started — the banner, the research, the writing, posting, cross-posting, planning the next article for today. And for what? Just to wake up and hear again:
No. Fuck it. Kill it.
I honestly could cry. But there’s almost no emotion left. And I know how this ends.
“Studying patterns in attention & intent economies.”
RIP — another fallen project, with a headstone that reads:
Killed in action by ADHD
God help me. I only want this to stop somehow one day. I wish more than anything to have one stable thought and finally stick to something. I once read that a RIP ceremony can help. I don’t know how, or why, or what it’s supposed to do. But here it is.
See this post as a RIP ceremony.
Today I might tear down the Substack entirely and disappear for a few days. Or I might tear it down, refurbish the whole account, and start from scratch with something new. I honestly have no idea right now.
I just needed to throw this out into the wild.
Sorry if you came across this crap article.
In my head another voice is running on repeat as well.
Rammstein
But then again — who bothers anyway.
Right now, 05:38, I would love to wake up the whole damn neighbourhood with:
Sieben – sie ist der hellste Stern von allen
Acht – hier kommt die Sonne
Neun – hier kommt die SonneAus!
No translation can ever carry the same violence and beauty. You either feel that furnace in your chest or you don’t. Du bist die Sonne. Or the one getting burned. 🔥
No in-between.