Some weeks you crush goals. Some weeks you just survive with your dignity slightly intact. This week? I did a little of both, and I’m not dragging myself for the rest. I’m not. Ok, I am TRYING not to lol. I looked up all these things so we know, this happens to alot of us.
Here’s what I’m letting go of:
Eating crackers for dinner. It was beige. It was crunchy. It was all I had in me. I know its not nutritional, but I put peanut butter on them, that counts right?
People with chronic pain or fatigue often struggle with meal prep. One study found that when we remove the guilt, we’re more likely to eat again tomorrow—and better. (Neff, 2003)
Snapping at a stranger when I was overstimulated. Was it my finest moment? No. But was it the end of the world? Also no.
Emotional dysregulation is common in both ADHD and bipolar. Reframe the moment to be more valuable than perfection. Modeling apology actually builds trust. (Siegel & Bryson, 2011)
Crying over a tv personality retiring. But who will give me the news everyday at 6? I won’t be able to get the exact same news and information from the person they already filled the position with.
Mood swings can heighten emotional sensitivity. Instead of suppressing those feelings, letting them out helps regulate the nervous system. Crying is literally self-soothing. (Vingerhoets, 2013)
Not cleaning up the kitchen. Or the bathroom. Or basically anything. The mess wasn’t going anywhere. The mess NEVER goes anywhere, its relentless. Unfortunately, my energy very much goes away lol.
Fatigue from chronic illness isn’t laziness. Research shows that pacing (doing less on purpose) leads to more consistent function long-term. (Nielson et al., 2013)
Skipping my meds one day, even though I knew better. I forgot. That’s it. That’s the reason.
People with ADHD and mood disorders often struggle with medication consistency. Shame spirals make it worse. Compassion-based routines improve long-term adherence. (Safren et al., 2005)
Needing space from literally everyone. Even the people I like. Especially them. Even the cats.
Sensory overload and mental fatigue demand recovery time. Boundaries aren’t selfish—they’re how we stay functional. (Brown, 2019)
Wishing I had a different body. This one feels broken. I still have to live here. Down to the tip of my hair I want everything new. Or I’ll take recycled, I shop at thrift stores
Body grief is real in chronic illness. Acceptance doesn’t mean joy—it just means recognizing pain without adding shame to it. (Cash & Pruzinsky, 2002)
Wanting to give up. But I didn’t. I just wanted to. And that counts.
Suicidal ideation and burnout can flare in depression or mania recovery. Naming those moments gives you back control. It’s a signal—not a verdict. I’m trying my best to make the most positive of that signal that I possibly can. (Linehan, 1993)
💬 Final Thought:
If this list hits home, maybe you need to make one of your own.
Forgive the little stuff. Forgive the big stuff. Forgive the you that’s still trying, even if it doesn’t look like much from the outside.
You’re not weak. You’re wicked strong for feeling this much and still showing up. Til next time gang. Take care of yourselves, and each other!
(AKA: This body is glitchy, but the kids still need lunch.)
Most days, I’m parenting from a horizontal position — on the couch, in the bed, or emotionally face-down in a bowl of cereal. And no, it’s not because I’m lazy. It’s because my body and brain don’t always play nice. Parenting with chronic illness (and some extra mental health sprinkles) isn’t just a different experience — it’s an entirely different reality.
But unless you’re in it, it’s hard to truly understand. So let’s talk about it.
First of all, let’s acknowledge the facts.
Parenting is exhausting for anyone, but for people with chronic illnesses like fibromyalgia, arthritis, lupus, or conditions like bipolar disorder and ADHD, it’s a next-level endurance test.
A 2019 study published in Health Psychology Open found that parents with chronic pain often experience higher levels of stress, fatigue, and feelings of guilt, especially when they can’t physically engage the way they want to.
Many of us deal with “invisible disabilities”, which means the world still expects us to perform like we’re running at 100%… when we’re often at 37% and glitching.
Here’s what chronic parenting really looks like:
I’ve prepped lunch while sitting on a stool, with my heating pad strapped to my back and a migraine drilling behind my eyes.
I’ve cheered from the car at events because walking across a field was out of the question that day.
I’ve been too tired to parent, but parented anyway because these tiny humans don’t come with a pause button.
My kids not only did school things, they did extra curricular things that I’d try and cheer them on for, and maybe the hardest part of that was to remember even in my discomfort my kids are forming memories and I really feel like the most important thing is showing up. The kids see your effort (or they will at some point) and I think its also a good lesson to teach them if its important, you find a way.
🧰 The skill set no one talks about
Sure, I can’t chase my kid around the park like some parents, but I’ve got other skills that are just as powerful:
Empathy: I notice when my kid is struggling, even when they don’t say it. That’s the emotional fluency that comes from living in survival mode.
Creative problem solving: If you’ve ever turned a laundry basket into a mobile toy bin so you don’t have to get up? You qualify. Incidentally get a grabber. I didnt have one until I had to be creative after my hip replacement, the grabber is a life saver for so simple it was honestly life changing lol.
Prioritizing rest over perfection: I’ve learned that being present matters more than doing it all. Show up even if it means napping.
Teaching independence: Out of necessity, my kids know how to microwave their snacks and fold their laundry. That’s not failure — it’s life skills.
I’ve learned even in not being able to do things I’m teaching them to try, when faced with a choice of giving up or maybe altering something just enough to make it the right fit for you.
😞 The guilt is real. So is the resilience.
It hurts when I have to say no because my joints are angry or my brain is on fire. I hate the days when I feel like a spectator instead of a participant. And sometimes I worry about the memories my kids will hold — will they remember the things I couldn’t do?
But then they crawl into bed with me and asking ‘snuggle me in?’ and I realize they don’t see my limits the way I do. They see love, even on the hard days. Or the youngest one does, I don’t speak for the older two. There were days I didnt show up for them and I regret it. That being said, life only goes in one direction. You’ve got to keep walking with it adjusting as you go.
💬 What I want you to know
If you’re not parenting through chronic illness, here’s what helps:
Don’t offer unsolicited advice unless you’re also offering childcare or dinner.
Don’t assume we’re fine because we look okay for five minutes.
Ask how we’re really doing, and mean it.
Celebrate the small wins with us — like getting everyone dressed and vaguely fed before noon.
💛 And if you are one of us…
Parenting with a glitchy body, a misfiring brain, or both? You’re not alone. You’re not broken. And your kids don’t need perfect — they need you.
Even if today’s victory is frozen waffles and letting the screen time run wild while you rest? That counts.
You’d think having one chronic health condition would be enough to earn you a loyalty card for the doctor’s office (every tenth copay is free?), but apparently, nature loves a “Buy One, Get One” deal just as much as supermarkets do.
In fact, as of 2023, over half (51.4%) of American adults are dealing with at least two chronic conditions simultaneously. Not to brag, but some of us are collecting diagnoses like they’re Pokemon cards. (Its me, I’m some of us.)
1. Your Pill Organizer Qualifies as a Carry-On
You know you’re living with multiple medical conditions when your pill organizer is bigger than your snack box… and requires its own spreadsheet for refills. You could host a bingo night called “Guess Which Pill is for What?” (Winner gets a nap.)
2. Doctor’s Appointments: The New Social Calendar
If social status were measured by how many specialists you know by their first name, you’d be downright popular. Dermatologist on Tuesday? Endocrinologist on Wednesday? Neurologist at the end of the month? You’ve got a calendar busier than a pop star’s tour schedule.
3. Symptoms: Pick ‘n’ Mix Edition
Fatigue, brain fog, joint pain, strange rashes—sometimes it’s hard to know whether a new symptom is a plot twist from an old diagnosis or just a friendly sequel from a new one. You ask your doctor, “Is this Normal™?” and they say, “Well, for you, maybe!”
4. Health Is a Team Sport Now
Turns out, it takes a village… to manage your prescriptions, go over lab results, and remind you again which foods will actually disagree with Condition #3 (but not #2).
5.You’re Not Alone in This Wild Ride
Here’s the kicker: 76.4% of US adults had at least one chronic condition in 2023—and over one in four young adults aged 18–34 now have two or more. If you sometimes feel like a medical outlier, you’re actually part of the majority (how’s that for a plot twist?).
6. Bonus Round: Confusing Your Fitbit
You tell your fitness tracker you have “bad days” and “good days.” Fitbit just quietly registers your nap as a “restorative yoga” session. (Thanks, buddy, I needed that win.)
Quick Facts to Drop at Parties for Street Cred:
Multiple chronic conditions (aka “multimorbidity”) are on the rise, especially among young adults—up from 21.8% to 27.1% in a decade. Most common tag team combos include high cholesterol, arthritis, hypertension, depression, and—everybody’s favorite—obesity.
Living with multiple medical conditions isn’t for the faint of heart…except, actually, sometimes it literally is when your next diagnosis is “mild tachycardia.” But you do it with humor, strength, and the world’s most impressive pill stash. And that, fellow warriors, is the real truth.
Author’s tip: If in doubt, just tell people you’re “collecting chronic conditions” like rare action figures. Laughter might not be the best medicine, but it’s definitely covered by emotional insurance.
Factual data for your reading pleasure: The CDC and other reputable sources confirm everything above, except maybe the part about winning a nap at diagnosis bingo. Til next time gang, take care of yourselves, and each other!
(Or: Things I’ve Learned the Hard Way and Now Pass Off as Wisdom)
1️⃣ If you open the dishwasher to “just add one thing,” congratulations. You now live here. Ownership transfers upon entry. If you can’t fill it, go check your room. I know you dont eat in there as a general rule but go look and see if the random missing spoon is hanging out with the stray socks in their hideout.
2️⃣ “We’ll deal with it later” is a valid strategy until further notice. No one said when later is. Legally, you’re covered. Until 5 pm when all the things you were going to do catch up and your teenager is asking why something isnt done to their exacting standards.
3️⃣ Matching socks are a social construct. As are bedtimes, sanity, and tidy junk drawers. For socks, maybe track some other missing stuff (like the spoon from before), I swear theres a Narnia or hiding dimension.
4️⃣ No one has ever truly recovered from stepping on a rogue Lego. We carry these wounds in silence. And orthopedic inserts. My kitty in the sky Bonkers used to sleep on them, a full bucket without the lid, weirdo. Miss you little dude but thanks for sending me Fryday who amuses me endlessly, but I still miss you!
5️⃣ If you set something down ‘just for a second,’ it’s gone forever. Gone to the shadow realm. Gone where keys and pens go to die. See narnia, also with socks and spoons. And the tupperware lids vs tupperware ratio is always uneven so I blame them too.
6️⃣ Your brain will retain the lyrics to a 1997 boy band hit but not why you walked into the room. Priorities. We don’t make the rules. Its tearing up my heart that you don’t ‘remember the time’ you walked into a room and left with exactly what you walked in there for but honestly ‘bye bye bye’ to that dream because honestly we’re ‘never gonna get it no never gonna get it’
7️⃣ Snacks are sacred. Do not touch another’s designated snack without first drafting a formal agreement and receiving notarized consent. I think it sucks so much worse when you crave a texture and have no food with that texture available. Like I hate it when I bring home fresh baked goods because I can only eat one every few days or I forget its there. I MIGHT get one. Vultures.
8️⃣ If the ADHD person in your house starts cleaning, DO NOT INTERRUPT. You’re witnessing a natural phenomenon rarer than a solar eclipse. Often whats good is pulling up a rag and joining them, not that you need to do any of the cleaning, they’ll do it but they will do it alot faster if you join them.
9️⃣ We don’t do ‘normal’ here. We tried. It was exhausting. Weird is cheaper and fits better. I have discussed this at length, I know the name is deceiving because I love being weird and don’t want any part of me normal lol. There was a time I did strive to an impossibly high level too. That me burned herself out a decade ago.
🔟 The motto remains: Lower the bar, keep the vibe. Survival with style. That’s the goal. Often its just survival.
Closing Thought:
Some houses run on routine, others run on vibes and caffeine. Guess which one we are. Til next time gang, take care of yourselves, and each other!
Welcome back to another two weeks of me pretending I’ve got it together. I do not in fact, have ANYTHING together and this week has taxed my brain so much I am ready to not have to make the dinner decisions for a few more weeks. Does this work for you guys? I have found I am spending less on groceries. (Thanks for the tips about my low spoon days btw!) This is how I keep myself from crying into a crumpled DoorDash receipt: six planned dinners that don’t require Michelin star skills, plus reserve meals to fill in the gaps when I’m too tired, too sore, or too done with everyone’s nonsense to cook.
Here’s what I’ve got for you: A 2-week plan. Six home-cooked meals. Eight “reserve” meals pulled from pantry, freezer, or leftovers. A printable grocery list. Recipes that don’t require you to pretend you’re a Food Network star.
Because some days you’re Julia Child. Some days you’re just a tired gremlin trying to survive until bedtime.
The Lineup: What We’re Cooking
Cook Days (3-4x per week)
These are meals you’ll actually make with fresh-ish ingredients and some degree of effort.
1️⃣ Slow Cooker Italian Beef Sandwiches
Juicy chuck roast, spicy giardiniera, hoagie rolls. Perfect for people who forgot to plan dinner but did remember how to dump things into a crockpot.
2️⃣ Honey Garlic Chicken Thighs (Stovetop)
Savory-sweet chicken served with rice and frozen stir-fry veggies. Quick. Easy. Tastes like you tried.
3️⃣ Garlic Butter Chicken Bites (Skillet)
Pan-fried happiness in butter and garlic, paired with green beans and potatoes (microwave or skillet — you do you).
4️⃣ Smothered Chicken & Rice Bake
One pan. Chicken thighs. Rice. Cream-of-something soup. Zero regrets.
5️⃣ Kielbasa & Potato Skillet
Hearty, fast, requires almost no brain cells. Bonus points if you add onions.
6️⃣ Baked Pasta
Cheesy, saucy, optionally beefy. Feeds a crowd or just you for three days.
Reserve Days (4-5x per week)
These are your “I cannot even” days. Pantry, freezer, leftovers, and minimal thought required. BBQ Chicken Sandwiches (reserve buns, chips, pickles)
When your energy comes with an expiration date, every choice becomes strategic.
We all know spoon theory. But let’s be real—most of the advice assumes you’re managing your energy for your own activities. What happens when you can’t just “rest when you need to” because someone else depends on you for dinner, rides, and emotional regulation? When your autistic teenager needs consistency but your fibromyalgia is flaring? When your ADHD brain forgot to save energy for the evening routine, but bedtime still has to happen?
I’m not trying to be a saint here—I’m trying to survive until bedtime without completely falling apart. And that requires a different kind of energy strategy than the basic spoon theory tutorials assume.
The Complex Reality: When Multiple Conditions Collide
These are my dancin spoons
Here’s what the basic spoon theory explanations miss: When you’re managing fibromyalgia, ADHD, and bipolar disorder simultaneously, your spoons aren’t just limited—they’re unpredictable.
My ADHD brain might hyperfocus and blow through six spoons organizing one closet. A bipolar mood shift can drain spoons faster than a phone with a cracked screen drains battery. And fibromyalgia? It’s like having a fluctuating baseline that changes without warning.
Add parenting an autistic teenager to the mix, and you’re not just managing your own energy—you’re strategically allocating it so everyone gets what they need, including you still being a functioning human by 8 PM. (Well I never claim to be a functioning human any time after 5 lol)
This isn’t about being selfless. It’s about being smart enough to pace yourself so you don’t crash and burn, leaving everyone (including yourself) worse off.
The Science Behind Why We Run Out of Spoons
Research backs up what we’ve always known: fibromyalgia isn’t just “feeling tired.” Studies show people with fibromyalgia experience disrupted sleep, increased pain sensitivity, and central sensitization—basically, our nervous systems are stuck in overdrive.
Key Research Findings:
Fibromyalgia and Central Sensitization: The National Institute of Arthritis and Musculoskeletal Diseases confirms fibromyalgia affects how the brain processes pain signals, leading to widespread pain and fatigue.
Sleep Disruption: 75–90% of people with fibromyalgia experience sleep disorders, creating a vicious cycle where pain disrupts sleep and poor sleep worsens pain.
ADHD and Executive Function: ADHD impacts energy regulation through executive dysfunction, making pacing activities harder.
But here’s what medical literature doesn’t capture: what happens when you can’t just “listen to your body” and rest whenever you need because someone else is counting on you?
Energy Pacing: The Research-Backed Strategy That Actually Works
The good news? There’s solid research supporting strategies beyond “just rest more.” Activity pacing is designed for people who can’t just stop when they’re tired.
Key Research Findings:
Activity Pacing Works: A 2023 systematic review found pacing—regulating activity to avoid post-exertional crashes—is one of the most effective strategies for chronic fatigue conditions.
Better Than Boom-Bust: People who learn pacing techniques report significantly improved quality of life compared to those who push through until they crash.
The Energy Envelope: Research shows staying within your “energy envelope” prevents the crash-and-burn cycle that leaves you useless for days.
The key insight? It’s not about doing less—it’s about doing things more strategically so you can sustain your energy over time.
My Real-Life Strategic Energy System
The Morning Energy Assessment
Every morning, I do a quick reality check: How’s my pain? Did I sleep? Is my brain foggy? This gives me a realistic count of my available energy for the day. A good day might be 15 units. A flare day? Maybe 8. The key is honesty about what I actually have, not what I wish I had.
The Triage System: Essential vs. Optional
I ruthlessly categorize tasks:
Essential: Medication, meals, safety, school pickup Important: Homework, emotional check-ins, sensory accommodations Optional: Fancy meals, deep cleaning, being the “fun mom”
On low-energy days, I focus only on essentials. My teen knows that sometimes we operate in “basic functioning mode,” and that’s just life—not failure. I have learned I am terrible at categorizing though lol.
The 80% Rule
Research shows staying within your “energy envelope” prevents crashes. For me, this means spending no more than 80% of my energy by 3 PM. Kids still need dinner, and I still need to exist as a person after sundown.
Practical Energy-Saving Strategies That Actually Work
Here’s where theory meets reality. These aren’t pie-in-the-sky ideas—these are battle-tested strategies for functioning for others while managing complex needs.
Batch Processing: Work Smarter, Not Harder
High-energy tasks happen on good days. Maintenance mode on the rest. Strategic, not lazy.
Examples:
Book medical appointments together to reduce recovery time
Meal prep when you’re energized, not hangry
Handle school stuff in batches
Environmental Modifications: Make Your Space Work for You
Our home reduces energy demands on purpose. Essentials are easy to reach, grab bars help, and my teen knows the layout.
Modifications:
Keep essentials within easy reach
Set up “stations” for meds, homework, decompression
Use timers and alarms because our brains aren’t built for mental tabs
The 20-Minute Rule
If it takes longer than 20 minutes, it gets chunked smaller or delegated. This prevents ADHD hyperfocus from burning my whole day’s energy.
When Your Teen Needs to Understand Your Reality
One of the hardest parts? Explaining to my autistic teen why I can’t do something today that I could yesterday. Consistency helps, but clarity wins. She’s gotten better since she goes to school based therapy, I’ve really been proud of her empathy lately.
What works:
Concrete language: “I have 3 energy units left. Dinner needs 2.”
Offer alternatives: “I can’t drive you, but I can order it.”
Honesty: “Energy changes daily. Not your fault or mine.”
Involve them: “How can we make this work with what I’ve got left?”
The Guilt Factor: Why Strategic Rest Isn’t Selfish
It took me years to accept this: protecting my energy isn’t lazy—it’s responsible. Proactive rest keeps me showing up tomorrow.
Saying no to extras isn’t shirking responsibility—it’s saving energy for what truly matters. Operating in “basic functioning mode” is how I keep us afloat without sinking out of stubbornness.
Next Week: Building your support network and emergency energy protocols—because even superheroes need backup plans. Til next time gang, take care of yourselves, and each other.
(Only mildly exaggerated, but it wouldnt matter because we’re spicy and no one tells US what to do!))
1. Snacks Count as a Coping Skill.
If it has carbs, it’s basically therapy. Cheese is classified as its own group lol.
2. “I Forgot” Is a Valid Reason.
So is “my brain glitched.” No need to lie about aliens (unless it’s funny). Maybe a George interrupted your thoughts IYKYK
3. Parallel Play Is Quality Time.
Existing near each other silently? Peak bonding. We congratulate each other when we imaginary win Wheel of Fortune.
4. Meltdowns Are Temporary; Love Is Not.
Cry it out, stim it out, leave the room dramatically — we’re still good. Some times we need to give each other a 15 minute buffer of alone time after disrupting or unsettling encounters.
5. Mutual Respect > Clean Counters.
Nobody ever died from crumbs, but words? They linger. I cannot emphasize this sarcastically because I really want you to think about what you say and as much as you can be, be intentional.
6. Matching Socks Are Optional. Headphones Are Not.
Protect your peace. Protect others from your playlists. Wear what you want some long as your covering the important parts lol.
7. No Important Conversations After 8pm.
Unless it’s about snacks, cat memes, or space facts. Write it down, type it out, I can promise you if you tell me something at night I have ZERO recall the next day.
8. Time Is Fake, But Deadlines Are Real.
We use timers, calendars, sticky notes, and sheer panic. As I’ve said in the past, try using time blocks rather than completed activities.
9. Sensory Needs Come First.
Dim the lights, turn down the noise, and yes, we will leave the store. I have no problem just getting up and going outside if the air starts to overwhelm and choke you.
10. We Are Allowed to Be Weird Here.
Repeat as needed: Normal is a setting on the dryer. Because normal is overrated, and honestly, it looks even more exhausting. Lol, til next time gang, take care of yourselves, and each other!
Let me paint you a picture: One neurodivergent parent with executive dysfunction, sensory issues, a flair for hyperfocus (at the worst times), and a caffeine addiction… raising a neurodivergent teen who also has executive dysfunction, sensory issues, and a flair for hyperfocus (also at the worst times). Poor non neurodivirgent Dad lol. (Lucky he’s a little spicy in his own way so he gets it)
What we’ve got here, folks, is not a traditional household. It’s a feedback loop with matching eye rolls and snack wrappers. With attitude.
“I’m Not Yelling, I’m Just Expressing Loudly With My Whole Body”
I used to think parenting would be about teaching my child how to be a functioning adult. Now I realize it’s about co-regulating while we both spiral in different directions over things like why the peanut butter is wrong. Not gone. Just wrong.
We’ve had conversations like:
“I can’t handle this right now.”
“Same.”
“So what do you want to do about it?”
“I don’t know”
“Cool me either. Want to avoid it together?”
When You’re the Grown-Up and Still Don’t Have the Manual
Let’s be real: parenting any teen is a mix of love, worry, and mystery smells.
Sometimes I’m the wise mentor. Sometimes I’m the raccoon in the laundry room making emotionally impulsive decisions because my hair hurts and I need a snack.
We forget things together. We hyperfixate on the same random topic (shoutout to that two-week deep dive into plane crash documentaries, but our fallback is cat videos lol). We both get overstimulated in stores and end up leaving without whatever we went in for.
But at least we do it as a team.
What Actually Helps Us (Spoiler: Not Just Schedules)
People say neurodivergent kids need structure. Sure. But have you ever tried creating that structure while your brain is doing circus tricks and crying at the same time?
So we’ve learned to build little systems that don’t require too many spoons:
Timers with fun alarms. (Because “Gentle bells” don’t work on either of us. We need “aggressive robot beep.”)
Codewords for meltdowns. (We’ve used “just “NOPE.” but I think we’re good at picking up on each others tells by now no words needed)
Parallel processing. (We do our own things side by side while exchanging exactly 4.5 words. Always. We watch Wheel together, we’re not watching it together so much as competing between each other but the sentiment is there)
And when all else fails: snacks, memes, and leaving the room before anyone says something regrettable.
The Pick Your Battles™ Scale
Let me introduce you to my secret weapon: the Pick Your Battles™ Scale. It’s how I decide whether to engage or let it go with my spicy teen (and honestly, with myself).
Situation
Rating
Translation
They wore pajama pants to the store.
1/10
Not a fight worth my last nerve, so long as all the bits are covered I’m not stressin.
They forgot their homework again.
4/10
Gently nudge, don’t die on this hill.
They said I ruined their life because I made pasta instead of rice.
2/10
Sounds like a feelings day. Feed them, don’t fight them.
They screamed into a pillow instead of at me.
0/10
That’s emotional maturity, baby. Celebrate it. Hubby gets mad if she walks away mumbling under her breath. I’m like really thats NORMAL teen behavior, I’ve done it, so long as the words are to herself I see no harm in letting her cuss me out. Its when she screams at me thats the problem.
They were mean to the cat.
10/10
Pause the world. This one needs addressing.
This little internal rubric helps me reserve energy for what actually matters. (Spoiler: it’s not always the socks on the floor.)
The Secret Sauce: Radical Compassion + Shared Eye Rolls
My kid gets it. I get it. We’re both doing our best with the wonky wiring we’ve got.
Some days that means deep talks about emotions and neurobiology. Other days that means forgetting it’s trash day for the third week in a row and bonding over mutual shame while taking it out in pajamas at 3 p.m.
There’s beauty in the chaos. There’s humor in the mess. There’s love in the way we see each other clearly, even when the world doesn’t.
So If You’re Out There, Fellow Neurospicy Parent…
You’re not failing. You’re not alone. You’re just raising a tiny mirror who also loses their phone in their own hand and argues like a well-informed gremlin.
And that? That’s something worth celebrating.
Preferably with matching fidgets and a mutually agreed-upon “silent hour.” Til next time gang. Take care of yourselves, and each other.
Let’s be honest: brains can be drama queens. They catastrophize. They tell half-truths. They rerun that one embarrassing moment from seventh grade like it’s a Netflix Original. And when you live with chronic illness, ADHD, bipolar disorder, or you’re just a human being trying to function, those mental reruns can get extra spicy.
Enter: reframing. It’s a simple but powerful cognitive strategy that helps you shift how you view a situation or thought—without pretending everything is fine when it’s clearly not. This isn’t about toxic positivity. This is about mental judo.
What Is Reframing (And Why Should I Care?)
Reframing is the mental equivalent of turning the pillow over to the cool side. It’s rooted in Cognitive Behavioral Therapy (CBT) and helps you challenge automatic negative thoughts by looking at things from a different (and often more helpful) perspective.
It’s not about lying to yourself. It’s about finding a version of the truth that doesn’t punch you in the gut.
How Reframing Works (Spoiler: Science Says It Does)
Research shows that reframing, also called “cognitive reappraisal,” can significantly reduce symptoms of anxiety, depression, and stress. Two studies worth name-dropping at your next emotionally intelligent brunch:
Gross & John (2003) found that people who use reappraisal are more emotionally balanced and less likely to explode or implode emotionally.
Citation: Gross, J. J., & John, O. P. (2003). Individual differences in two emotion regulation processes. Journal of Personality and Social Psychology, 85(2), 348. https://doi.org/10.1037/0022-3514.85.2.348
Jamieson et al. (2012) showed that people who reframed their stress (as the body preparing to rise to a challenge) performed better and felt less overwhelmed.
Citation: Jamieson, J. P., Nock, M. K., & Mendes, W. B. (2012). Mind over matter. Journal of Experimental Psychology: General, 141(3), 417–422. https://doi.org/10.1037/a0025719
How to Reframe Without Losing Your Edge
Catch the Thought Example: “I’m lazy. I didn’t get anything done today.”
Reality Check Ask: Is this a feeling or a fact? Would I say this to a friend?
Flip It Gently Reframe: “My energy was low, and I did what I could. Resting isn’t lazy.”
Add Sass or Compassion (Optional but Recommended) Try: “Okay, Brain. Thanks for your input. Now please go sit in the back with Anxiety and Guilt.”
Everyday Reframes That Save My Sanity
Unhelpful Thought
Reframed Thought
“I’m falling behind.”
“I’m moving at my own pace, and that’s valid.”
“I should be doing more.”
“I’m doing what I can, and that counts.”
“Everyone else has it together.”
“They’re probably also crying in their car.”
“I’ll never get it right.”
“Progress isn’t linear, and effort matters.”
Closing Thoughts (AKA Why You Deserve a Brain That Isn’t Mean)
You don’t need to have perfect mental health to practice reframing. You just need to notice when your thoughts are dragging you under and say, “Actually, no thanks.”
Reframing isn’t pretending life is great. It’s realizing you don’t have to believe every thought your brain throws at you. Especially the mean ones. Especially the hopeless ones.
You are allowed to talk back.
And you deserve to hear yourself say something kinder. Til next time guys. Take care of yourselves, and each other
(aka “This Is Not a Cry for Help, But Also… Send Snacks?”)
“Why does my hip make that sound?” Its not so much a pop as it is a crackle, I feel like the Rice Crispies guys are hiding somewhere.
“How to explain sarcasm to a teenager who is now more sarcastic than me” It took forever for her to ‘get it’ (she’d say, is that sarcasm? every time we laugh at a joke) now she is almost more sarcastic than me. Almost lol.
“Can I survive on toaster waffles and spite?” No? Coca cola and contempt? Those are my wheelhouse.
“What does executive dysfunction look like in adults asking for a friend (it’s me)” Pretty sure I dissociated so hard I time-traveled. I came to around dinner like, wait… where did the day go?
“Symptoms of burnout vs laziness vs demonic possession” Spoiler: It was burnout. But let’s be honest, if a demon was possessing me, they’d at least fold the laundry
“How to nicely ask your teen to shower without being emotionally attacked” “I tried ‘Would you like a shower now or in 10 minutes?’ and still got hit with the emotional equivalent of a boss battle I didn’t consent to
“How long is too long to wait for meds to kick in before giving up on the day?” Asking for science. But also for vibes. Because the vibes are off and so is my serotonin.
“How to turn rage-cleaning into a workout” If slamming laundry baskets and scrubbing with vengeance burned calories, I’d be shredded by now.
“Can fidget toys fix my life or is that false advertising?” Look, they may not fix it — but they do keep me from sending That Text™ or scream-cleaning my kitchen.
“Is it normal to cry over spilled resin?” Normal? No clue. But between the cost, the smell, and the emotional spiral? Yeah. Very on brand.
Living with chronic illness, ADHD, and a teenager is like being the main character in a sitcom written by the universe when it was feeling particularly chaotic. But hey — at least I’m not boring.
BRB, googling if emotional support waffles are a thing. Til next time gang, take care of yourselves, and each other.
WannaBeNormal 