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The ADHD Shopping Experience: How I Went for Milk and Came Home with a Succulent, Three Notebooks, and No Milk

A play-by-play of my brain vs. reality, or: Why simple errands are never simple

Setting the Scene: Just need milk. One item. Simple mission. What could possibly go wrong?


In the Parking Lot

ADHD Brain: “Okay, milk. Just milk. Wait, should I make a list? No, it’s just ONE thing. But what if I see something else we need while I’m there? Maybe I should text hubby and ask… no, that’s ridiculous. It’s MILK. But what kind of milk? 2% or whole? Did we discuss this? Should I check the fridge from here? Can’t do that. Focus. MILK. M-I-L-K. Got it.”

Fibromyalgia Body: “Why does every parking space require a trek equivalent to hiking the Appalachian Trail? And why is it windy? Wind makes everything hurt more.”

What Actually Happened: Sat in my car for 5 minutes trying to remember if we needed 2% or whole milk, googled “difference between 2% and whole milk nutritionally” fell down a rabbit hole about dairy farming, got distracted by a text from my mom, completely forgot why I had googled dairy farming, and finally got out of the car having made zero progress on the milk question.


Entering the Store

ADHD Brain: “Straight to dairy section. Do not pass Go. Do not collect impulse purchases. Laser focus. I am a milk-seeking missile.”

Fibromyalgia Body: “Of course I grabbed the cart with the wobbliest wheel in existence. Every step is sending shock waves through my joints. This cart sounds like a dying pterodactyl.”

Bipolar Brain: “Actually, this is kind of fun! Look at all the possibilities! So many choices! I love having choices!”

What Actually Happened: Grabbed the first cart without testing it (rookie mistake), immediately got distracted by the seasonal display of Halloween decorations prominently displayed in August, spent three minutes judging the capitalist machine that pushes holidays earlier each year, then realized I was still standing at the front of the store holding a cart that sounded like it was powered by wounded animals.


Stop #1: The Pharmacy Section

ADHD Brain: “Wait, didn’t I need to pick up that prescription? When was that due? Was it today or tomorrow? Better check while I’m here. Multitasking!”

Fibromyalgia Body: “Standing in lines is torture. Why does every person in front of me have the most complicated prescription issue in pharmacy history?”

What Actually Happened: Joined the pharmacy line without checking if I actually had a prescription ready, discovered I didn’t, but got into a fascinating conversation with the pharmacist about medication timing, learned three new things about drug interactions, forgot why I came to the store entirely, then remembered MILk when I saw the refrigerated section behind the pharmacy counter.


The Succulent Section (How Is This Even a Section?)

ADHD Brain: “Ooh, plants! I could be a plant person! Look at this tiny perfect one – it probably needs rescuing from this fluorescent wasteland. I would give it a good home. I’d name it Gerald. Gerald deserves better than this. I’ll just—NO. MILK. FOCUS. But Gerald is so small and perfect…”

Bipolar Brain (manic whispering): “Plants are scientifically proven to improve mental health! This could be your new hobby! You deserve nice things! Gerald could be the first of many! Think of the Instagram potential!”

Fibromyalgia Body: “Bending over to look at these tiny plants is making my back scream, but Gerald IS pretty cute…”

What Actually Happened: Bought four succulents (Gerald, Susan, Peter,and one I didn’t name because I was trying to show restraint), plus a decorative pot that cost more than the plants, and mentally planned their placement in every room of my house despite historically being a plant serial killer.


Stop #2: The Drive-Through Coffee (Because Obviously)

ADHD Brain: “I should get coffee for this epic grocery mission. Caffeine will help me focus on the milk objective. This is strategic, not procrastination.”

Fibromyalgia Body: “My head is starting to hurt. Coffee will help. Coffee fixes everything.”

Bipolar Brain: “Treat yourself! You’re doing great! You deserve a fancy drink!”

What Actually Happened: Ordered a complicated seasonal latte, paid for it, thanked the barista, drove off immediately, got three blocks away before realizing I never actually received my coffee, circled back through the drive-through again to explain my ADHD brain to a confused teenager, got my coffee and a pitying look, then sat in the parking lot for 10 minutes mentally writing this exact blog post.


The Notebook Aisle (My Natural Habitat)

ADHD Brain: “These are on SALE! I always need notebooks! What if I run out of places to write my brilliant thoughts? What if this specific type gets discontinued forever and I never find another notebook that feels this perfect in my hands? This is an INVESTMENT.”

Bipolar Brain: “Look at all these possibilities! You could start journaling again! Or write that novel! Or organize your life! Each notebook could be a fresh start!”

What Actually Happened: Bought notebooks in three different sizes for “different purposes” – one for grocery lists (ironic, considering), one for “important thoughts,” and one for daily planning that I’ll definitely use this time, unlike the other twelve identical notebooks at home. Spent fifteen minutes arranging them in my cart by color.


At Checkout

ADHD Brain: “Mission accomplished! Wait… what was my mission? Milk! Did I get milk? I feel like I’m forgetting something important. Why do I have plants? OH RIGHT, Gerald!”

Fibromyalgia Body: “Why is this checkout line moving so slowly? My feet are killing me. Should have gotten a scooter cart.”

Cashier: “Did you find everything you needed today?”

Me: “Everything except what I came for!”

What Actually Happened: Paid $47 for succulents, notebooks, Halloween candy (forgot to mention grabbing that), fancy soap that “smelled like my childhood,” and a magazine about organizing your life. No milk. Not even close to milk.


Back Home

Family: “Did you get milk?”

Me: “I got… life lessons? And Gerald.”

Family: “Who’s Gerald?”

Me: “My new succulent son. Also, we still need milk.”

ADHD Brain: “But look how happy Gerald looks on the windowsill! This was basically a success!”


The Moral of the Story: Sometimes the journey is more important than the destination. Sometimes that journey involves adopting plant children and buying notebooks you don’t need. And sometimes you just have to go back to the store tomorrow for milk, but with Gerald watching over you from his new pot. Til next time gang, take care of yourselves, and each other.

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Weather or Not, Fibro Hurts: Barometric Whiplash and Summer Survival Tips

Fibro Doesn’t Care About the Season

You’d think pain would be more predictable. Cold = bad, right? Well yes… and no. Because in summer, when the air pressure plays trampoline, humidity tries to choke you out, and thunderstorms sneak up like mood-swing ninjas, your fibromyalgia goes, “Yay! A chance to be more dramatic!”

Your body doesn’t just hurt — it panics, it protests, and it often completely forgets how to function like a semi-sentient adult human.

Why Weather Screws Us Up (Even in Summer)

  1. Barometric Pressure is a Jerk.
    When pressure drops fast (hello, pre-storm), tissues expand. Nerves already oversensitive in fibro-land get even more irritable. It’s like your whole body got a weather alert and decided to throw a tantrum. The research is mixed—effects vary, and for some folks may be subtle. But that doesn’t make your flare-up any less real.
  2. Humidity and Heat Mess with Everything.
    • Heat dilates blood vessels → more fatigue, dizziness, swelling.
    • Humidity slows evaporation of sweat → overheating faster.
    • Add in pain? You’re basically a melted candle with opinions.
  3. Storms Make the Air Feel Heavy.
    Your head hurts, your joints ache, and standing up feels like moving through soup. The pressure swings during storms are sneaky saboteurs.
  4. Your Nervous System is Already Confused.
    Fibromyalgia is a central sensitization disorder. Your brain and nerves are like over-caffeinated chihuahuas — already jumpy, now add atmospheric chaos? It’s not great, Bob.

What Can You Actually Do About It?

💧1. Hydrate Like It’s Your Job.

Barometric shifts and heat can mess with circulation and fluid retention. Water helps regulate your internal temp and reduces dizziness and fatigue.

❄️2. Cooling Tools Are Your Friends.

  • Cooling towels
  • Ice packs on pulse points
  • Fans in every room
  • Spray bottle with peppermint water (YES, seriously)

🧘‍♀️3. Stretch and Move, Gently.

Movement keeps things from stiffening up worse, but go slow. A few light yoga poses, shoulder rolls, or just pacing your hallway counts. You’re not prepping for the Olympics — you’re surviving a weather system.

🛋️4. Pace Like a Pro.

Your energy is a budget. Don’t overspend it just because the sun’s out. Schedule breaks. Cancel plans. Use that “no” like SPF for your soul.

🌀5. Watch the Weather. Plan Ahead.

There are apps just for barometric pressure (like Migraine Buddy or WeatherX). When you see a dip coming, prep your nest: meds ready, chores done ahead, comfy clothes out.

You Are Not Broken — You Are Barometrically Betrayed

So no, it’s not “just in your head.” The weather does affect your fibro. You are not imagining it. And just because you don’t see storm clouds doesn’t mean your body isn’t screaming “WE’RE UNDER ATTACK!”

But you’re learning, adjusting, and finding ways to soften the crash. That’s strength — not weakness. Til next time guys, take care of yourselves, and each other.