Tag: health

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ADHD and the Never-Ending Quest for the Right System

JoLeave a comment

Or: How I Own More Planners Than Pairs of Jeans, and Still Can’t Find That Dentist Appointment Card

We’ve all been there. You buy the pretty planner with the gold coil, convinced that this will be the one to change your life. Then you try the bullet journal method because minimalism is supposed to cure chaos. Then you download six productivity apps, each promising to be the magic solution to your scattered existence. For one glorious week, you are an organizational deity, color-coding tasks (I have bought colored pens and every pen has the same color notebook and folder and yeah I am a giant nerd lol) and checking boxes like a productivity influencer. Then — poof — the planner’s under the couch collecting dust, the apps are unopened with little red notification badges mocking you, and you’re frantically scribbling your grocery list on the back of a Target receipt while standing in the cereal aisle.

Sound familiar? Welcome to the ADHD productivity paradox: we desperately need systems to function, but we’re spectacularly bad at sticking to them.

Why This Happens (Yes, Science Says So)

ADHD brains are novelty seekers. According to research published in Brain journal by Sethi et al. (2018), our dopamine reward system runs differently than neurotypical brains, with studies showing that people with ADHD have dysfunction in the dopamine reward pathway (Volkow et al., 2010). This means we thrive on new and interesting stimuli — like that gorgeous new planner layout with the perfect font — but struggle to maintain interest once the novelty wears off. That dopamine hit from “new system day” is real, but it’s also temporary.

Executive function is a fickle beast. Studies consistently show that people with ADHD have weaker function and structure of prefrontal cortex (PFC) circuits, the brain regions responsible for planning, prioritizing, and task-switching (Arnsten, 2009). Neuroimaging research has found reduced activity in certain parts of the PFC during tasks requiring sustained attention and complex decision-making (AGCO Health, 2024). It’s not laziness or lack of willpower — it’s literally how our brains are wired.. Thats why I cycle through hobbies so fast and its something I’m actively working on.

One size does not fit all. Most productivity systems are designed by and for neurotypical brains that can handle routine, sequential thinking, and sustained attention. Trying to wedge ourselves into these systems is like trying to wear jeans two sizes too small — you can do it, but it’s uncomfortable, restrictive, and not pretty.

Perfectionism is the enemy of progress. Many of us fall into the trap of thinking that if we can’t do a system “perfectly,” we shouldn’t do it at all. Miss one day of journaling? Throw out the whole journal. Forget to update the app for a week? Delete it in shame. This all-or-nothing thinking sabotages any chance of finding what actually works.

How to Work With Your Brain, Not Against It

1. Think Modular, Not Monumental. Instead of searching for one perfect “forever system,” embrace using multiple small, interchangeable tools that can work independently. Sticky notes for quick reminders that need immediate action, a large wall calendar for big-picture dates and deadlines, your phone’s alarm function for time-sensitive appointments, and maybe a simple notebook for brain dumps when your thoughts are spinning. Mix and match based on what your current life phase demands.

2. Use Dopamine to Your Advantage. Instead of fighting your brain’s need for novelty, make it part of the plan. Intentionally change colors, formats, or methods every few weeks to refresh your interest and re-engage that dopamine reward system. Buy different colored pens seasonally, switch between digital and paper tools, or reorganize your workspace regularly. Make variety a feature, not a bug.

3. Embrace “Good Enough” Productivity. You don’t need to track every habit, meal, mood, water intake, and bowel movement to be a functioning adult. Choose three key areas that truly impact your daily life and focus on keeping just those consistent. Let everything else flex and flow as needed. Progress, not perfection, is the goal.

4. Automate & Delegate Where Possible. Set recurring phone reminders for regular tasks, use grocery delivery or curbside pickup to eliminate list-making stress, automate bill payments, or recruit a family member to be your “appointment buddy” for remembering important dates. Your brain doesn’t have to carry every single piece of information if technology and other people can help.

5. Plan for Disruption. Build buffer days into your schedule, expect that your tools will need periodic rebooting, and never expect sustained perfection. Create “reset rituals” for when systems inevitably break down — maybe Sunday nights for clearing your workspace or the first of each month for reassessing what’s working. The point is to support your life, not win an imaginary “most organized person alive” award.

6. Start Ridiculously Small. Instead of overhauling your entire organizational approach, pick one tiny thing and make it automatic first. Maybe it’s putting your keys in the same spot every day, or writing tomorrow’s most important task on a sticky note before bed. Once that feels natural, add something else small. Baby steps prevent the overwhelm that kills motivation.

The Big Takeaway

You’re not broken because you can’t stick to one pristine system for years on end. Your brain is wired for variety, stimulation, and flexibility — so make those traits part of your organizational plan instead of fighting against them. You’re not failing the system. The system is failing you if it can’t adapt and flex with your very real, very human reality.

The goal isn’t to become neurotypical. It’s to find tools and approaches that work with your unique brain, even if they look messy or unconventional to outside observers. Some days that might mean a color-coded digital calendar. Other days it might mean a crumpled napkin with three things scrawled on it. Both are valid if they help you function.

Your worth isn’t measured by how perfectly you maintain a bullet journal or how consistently you use the latest productivity app. It’s measured by how well you’re living your life, taking care of what matters, and being kind to yourself in the process. Til next time gang, take care of yourselves, and each other!

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Hyperfixation Cuisine: A Love Story

JoLeave a comment

When food is your ride-or-die for two weeks… until it ghosts you.

I don’t fall in love often—but when I do, it’s usually with a snack. A drink. A cereal. A very specific sandwich from one very specific place that I will eat exclusively for 14 days straight like it holds the secrets of the universe and contains all the nutrients my body will ever need. During these passionate food affairs, I become a creature of pure obsession—calculating how many times per day I can reasonably consume my chosen item without judgment, researching the optimal preparation methods, and feeling genuinely excited about meal times in a way that probably isn’t normal for a grown adult. I’ll stock up like I’m preparing for the apocalypse, filling my cart with multiples of the same item while cashiers give me curious looks that I interpret as admiration for my decisive shopping skills. And then? I ghost. Cold turkey. No warning, no closure, no gradual tapering off—just me and my shame in aisle 5, pretending I never knew that Creamsicle shake, avoiding eye contact with the 47 cans of soup I can no longer stomach, and wondering why my brain treats food like a series of intense but doomed romantic relationships.

What Is Hyperfixation Cuisine?

It’s the culinary equivalent of a summer fling. You’re obsessed. You plan your day around it. You talk about it to anyone who will listen (and a few who won’t). You buy in bulk. And then one morning, like a cursed love spell wearing off, it’s done. You’re left with a pantry full of raisin bran and the haunting echoes of a snack you no longer want to eat.

Neurodivergent folks—those of us with ADHD, autism, or both—know this dance well. It’s not a food phase; it’s a full-blown romantic arc.

And science backs us up!

Let’s sneak in some facts while we laugh about it:

  • Hyperfixation on foods is super common in neurodivergent folks (ADHD, autism, OCD, etc.). It’s not just “being picky”—it’s how our brains work.
  • It’s a mix of sensory comfort, routine, and dopamine payoff. That food becomes the reliable good thing—until your brain randomly decides it isn’t anymore, with zero explanation or warning.
  • Sometimes it’s about control in a world full of chaos: “I know exactly what I’m eating. I know what it tastes like. No surprises. No emotional labor. No decisions beyond ‘yes, this again.'”
  • But then, suddenly… betrayal. Like Raisin Bran. You were the breakfast of my dreams for three solid weeks. And now? Just cardboard and broken promises, sitting in my pantry like evidence of my neurological fickleness.

A Few Past Lovers (aka: My Personal Hyperfixation Food Phases)

  • Creamsicle shakes (RIP, my frosty muse)
  • Raisin Bran (?? still not sure how that happened)
  • Microwavable rice and sausages (because sweet peppers and sausage are awesome)
  • Spicy chips (emotionally turbulent, 11/10 would return someday)
  • Anything with pesto (until my body mutinied and now pesto is dead to me)

So What Do We Do About It?

Is This “Healthy”? Depends Who You Ask.

Nutritionists would say variety is key. But also? Survival. Joy. Convenience. These are not small things. And if eating the same 3 things on rotation keeps your body going through a rough patch? That’s not failure—that’s strategy.

Plus, it always changes eventually. Usually when you least expect it. Often mid-bite.

Honestly? Laugh. Embrace it. Maybe write a heartfelt goodbye letter to your former food flame. (“Dear Bagel Bites, we had some good times. I’m sorry I abandoned you half-eaten in the freezer door.”)

You don’t have to force variety or shame yourself for what your brain finds comforting. Just make sure you stay fed, hydrated, and somewhat functional. And if one day you find yourself suddenly obsessed with cucumbers in vinegar, just know: you’re not alone.

What was your last food fling? Let me know so I don’t feel like the only one who once ate eleven bowls of raisin bran in one week.

And to all the forgotten snacks still lurking in my pantry…
I loved you once. I swear I did, lol. Til next time gang, take care of yourselves

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The Autistic Teen Whisperer: A Nature Documentary of My Life

JoLeave a comment

Narrated in the voice of a tired, sarcastic mom with a deep love for her elusive, unpredictable, and absolutely incredible child.

INT. KITCHEN – EARLY MORNING
Cue dramatic voiceover, à la David Attenborough:
“If we are quiet… very quiet… we may catch a glimpse of the elusive Autistic Teen in her natural habitat. There! A flash of movement, a hoodie, mismatched socks. Blink and she’s gone. Out the door before the sun can fully rise, leaving behind toast crumbs and an emotional riddle.”

Welcome to the wild world of neurodivergent parenting. I’m your guide, an exhausted mom attempting to decode the rituals, migrations, and sensory triggers of my favorite wild animal: my teenager.

The Habitat

The Autistic Teen typically roams the house after 10 PM, nesting primarily in her bedroom—curated with LED lights, noise-canceling headphones, and Very Specific Textures. Her room is both her sanctuary and her command center, and entering without knocking is a rookie mistake you only make once.

Adaptations observed:

  • Can detect the faintest flicker of a light bulb in another room.
  • Has strong opinions about the temperature and humidity level of her socks.
  • Stores snacks in unexpected places. Foraging is an art.

The Communication Rituals

Communication with the Autistic Teen requires finesse, timing, and a willingness to interpret non-verbal cues like you’re deciphering ancient cave drawings.

“Grunts and eyerolls may seem dismissive, but are often affectionate. Do not be discouraged. Watch for signs of engagement: a shared meme, a spontaneous info-dump about planes. These are golden opportunities.”

Sometimes we exchange whole conversations in Minecraft metaphors or sarcastic cat videos. Sometimes, the best thing I can do is sit quietly nearby and let her stim in peace.

Feeding Habits

“Observe the complex dietary preferences of the adolescent: cereal at 10 PM, pop tart at 7 AM, and a complete disregard for the food pyramid.”

She has strong food aversions and sacred favorites. I’ve learned the hard way not to mess with the shape of the nuggets or the brand of the mac and cheese. When in doubt: beige, crunchy, and emotionally comforting.

As her caregiver and personal short-order chef, I’ve adjusted. I stock the sensory-safe foods, experiment with new ones slowly, and always, always have backup pop tarts.

Daily Migration Patterns

Between school, stimming breaks, and doomscrolling, her internal compass doesn’t follow a standard map. There is no “typical” day. But I’ve learned to track her rhythms:

  • Mornings: silent, hoodie up, minimal communication.
  • Afternoons: decompressing with art or YouTube rabbit holes.
  • Evenings: bursts of creativity, hyperfocus, or emotional monsoons.

Every day is an expedition. Sometimes I’m chasing her needs through sensory jungles. Other times, I just try to not mess up her flow.

Challenges in the Wild

Sometimes we clash. My ADHD brain is loud, scattered, and constantly shifting. Her autistic brain is methodical, specific, and easily overwhelmed by chaos. We are two storms learning to move together without wrecking each other.

I talk too much. She gets overwhelmed by too many words. I need novelty. She needs routine. It’s not always elegant, but it’s always ours.

The Mutual Bonding Ritual

The bond between Whisperer and Teen is strong, even if it doesn’t always look that way from the outside. We’ve developed our own language—half memes, half silence, all love. She knows I see her. She knows I’m trying. And I know that even when she disappears into her own world, she leaves the door open a crack.

Sometimes I catch her watching me with a mix of exasperation and affection.
Sometimes she randomly tells me a fact about spiders or space or mental health that makes me cry with pride.
Sometimes she texts me from her room to say, “thanks for not being annoying today.”

I count that as a win.

Closing Narration

“In the end, the Autistic Teen and her Whisperer coexist not because they are the same, but because they’ve learned to honor their differences. In this ecosystem of stims and structure, meltdowns and memes, they survive—beautifully.”

This isn’t about having it all figured out. It’s about showing up anyway, even when the jungle is loud, the routines are broken, and the brain fog is real.

Because love, it turns out, is the greatest adaptation of all. Til next time gang, take care of yourselves, and each other.

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Body Function Bingo

JoLeave a comment

A totally real medical game where everyone’s a winner and no one feels good.

🎯 1. The Surprise Soundtrack

Symptom: Your joints crack like bubble wrap every time you move.
Fun fact: The average human knee wasn’t designed to sound like a haunted rocking chair — yet here we are.
Personal take: I’m TERRIFIED of moving like swaying because I’ve been warned repeatedly if my hip pops out I wont enjoy it. I keep remembering how EASY my hip used to pop out, I gotta be mindful of yet another ailment; *Dramatic fall upon our ‘fainting couch’ only to pop right back up*

🧠 2. Brain Fog Blackout

Symptom: You walk into a room and instantly forget why.
Science says: Fibro and ADHD can both affect working memory. That means your brain’s “clipboard” is full of glitter and expired coupons.
Pro tip: Keep a notebook, or just live in the room you walked into. It’s yours now. Your life exists there.

🔥 3. Is It a Hot Flash or Anxiety?

Symptom: Sudden wave of heat. Chest tight. Soul leaving body?
Reality: Could be hormones, could be panic, could be both. Whee!
Personal take: Am I the only one who walks around with sweats on *mostly* but when a hot flash hits, I’m in a tank and shorts, that I also set out to wear today because I did this so often that now I pick out a 4 piece outfit every day? Its like my anemia and my hormones have a time share in the place that controls my temp.

🎭 4. Mood Swing Square Dance

Symptom: Feeling fine → rage → tears → existential dread → cookie?
FYI: Bipolar mood shifts are no joke. Hormones and chronic pain don’t help.
Fun twist: Sometimes the mood changes faster than your outfit.

🧃 5. “Ow” Before It Happens

Symptom: You say “ow” before doing the thing.
Science says: Anticipatory pain is real in chronic illness brains. It’s like your nervous system’s version of spoilers.
Bonus round: Saying “ow” also applies to thoughts and feelings now.

🧬 6. Random Pain That Leaves as Mysteriously as It Came

Symptom: Stabbed in the ribs by an invisible elf. Gone five seconds later.
No explanation. No follow-up. No peace.
Personal take: (That sharp twinge in your back today? Yep.) I’m honestly not sure about back pain there are far too many terrible things it could be (thanks Dr Google) but its me so of COURSE we escalate to the worst case scenario, but its just as likely these days to be muscle strain. It was stabby and dull and seemed to move while radiating from the same region. Magic.

📺 7. Micro-Naps & Blinking Time Warps

Symptom: You swear it was just 2:30pm. Now it’s 4:17 and you’re holding a half-eaten piece of toast.
What’s happening: Could be fatigue, could be disassociation, could be alien abduction.
Helpful? No. Hilarious? Sometimes.

How many squares did you hit today? Bingo or just big ‘nope’? Either way — you’re still here, and that’s a win. Til next time gang, take care of yourselves, and each other.

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Hot Weather, No Problem: 2 Weeks of Summer Dinners That Won’t Heat Up Your House

JoLeave a comment

Your August-friendly, spoonie-tested meal plan with recipes, reserves, and a grocery list that won’t make you sweat (literally or figuratively).

Because it’s August. The sun is trying to kill us. I don’t know about you all, but I’m over this heat! Bring me sweater weather! And the idea of turning on the oven is borderline offensive while mother nature is giving us this 100+ degree nonsense.. But we still need to eat, right? So here’s a two-week dinner plan designed to save your spoons, your sanity, and your electric bill. I went a whole summer once with only using the crockpot. Lots of research went into it but it did help not having to run the oven, and limited running of the stove top. You’ll see strategic “reserve” nights for leftovers or backup meals, plus flexible recipes using what you’ve already got.

🍽️ Week 17 and 18 Menu (Crisis-Friendly and Summer-Approved)

Sunday:
🎉 Out to Eat – It’s My Daughter’s Birthday!
(If you’re not celebrating someone’s life, I still give you full permission to skip cooking.)

Monday (Reserve Night):
Snack plate, leftovers, or a no-cook rescue meal

Tuesday:
🌭 Sausage, Peppers & Potatoes Skillet
→ Just toss sausage slices, bell peppers, and diced potatoes into a skillet. Season with olive oil, garlic powder, salt, and pepper. Cook until golden and tender.

Wednesday (Reserve Night):
Use what’s left or pretend cheese and crackers is a full meal. (It is, hence lunchables exist.)

Thursday:
🍝 Pasta with Meat Sauce
→ Brown ground beef or sausage, stir in tomato sauce, garlic, onion, Italian seasoning. Serve over cooked pasta. Easy, satisfying, barely a sweat.

Friday (Reserve Night):
Whatever’s easiest. Pizza, wrap, cereal… judgment-free zone.

Saturday:
🧄 Garlic Butter Chicken Bites with Rice + Green Beans
→ Chicken breast cut into chunks, seared in garlic butter with herbs. Serve with rice (instant is fine!) and green beans, frozen or fresh.

🍽️ Week 18 Menu (Low Heat, High Reward)

Sunday:
🥘 Crockpot Chicken & Peppers over Rice
→ Chicken thighs or breasts + sliced peppers + garlic + a little broth and salsa in the crockpot for 4–6 hrs. Serve over rice.

Monday (Reserve Night):
Dinner roulette: whatever shows up when you open the fridge.

Tuesday:
🥔 Loaded Potato Bowls (Dairy-Free)
→ Roast or skillet-fry diced potatoes. Top with leftover chicken or sausage, green beans, onions, drizzle of olive oil + garlic salt.

Wednesday (Reserve Night):
No stress. Pull out leftovers or do DIY sandwich night.

Thursday:
🍅 One-Pot Garlic Herb Pasta
→ Pasta, diced tomato, garlic, and herbs cooked in one pot with water or broth until creamy and tender. Olive oil instead of butter or cream. Done.

Friday (Reserve Night):
No cooking. Everyone fends for themselves. That’s self-care.

Saturday:
🍲 Stovetop Chicken & Rice with Garlic Broth
→ Chicken sautéed with garlic and onion, simmered in broth with rice until fluffy and flavorful. Comfort food without the oven.

🧠 Spoonie Tips for Sanity:

Reserves = You win at meal planning even when you don’t cook.

Cook extra rice or pasta and use it again later.

Crockpot liners are your BFF.

Thats all I’ve got for you today folks, just over here trying not to melt lol. Til next time, take care of yourselves, and each other.

Wk17
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The PTSD Plot Twist: How Nearly Dying Made Living Feel Impossible

JoLeave a comment

The unexpected psychological aftermath of medical trauma that nobody warns you about.

You’d think that surviving something as dramatic as your heart stopping would make you grateful for every breath, right? That’s what everyone assumes. That’s what I assumed. But here’s the plot twist nobody talks about: sometimes surviving the unsurvivable doesn’t make you appreciate life more—it makes living feel impossibly dangerous.

Welcome to the mind-bending world of medical trauma PTSD, where your brain decides that since you almost died once, you’re probably about to die again. Any minute now. Maybe even right now while you’re reading this.

The Science Behind the Psychological Sucker Punch

Here’s what the research says about cardiac arrest survivors that no one mentioned in the hospital discharge paperwork: the prevalence of PTSD among us is high. Like, surprisingly high. Studies vary, but they all agree it’s not just a few people who “can’t handle it.”

Even worse? PTSD in cardiac arrest survivors is linked to a significantly higher risk of another heart event or death within a year. So, while your brain is tormenting you with the idea that you’re going to die… that very torment might actually make you more likely to die.

It’s psychological Russian roulette, designed by a trauma specialist with a PhD in irony.

When I first woke up, I was full of gratitude. My brain was too busy relearning how to walk and do basic things to spiral about what almost happened. But once the dust settled? That’s when the fear moved in.

The Hypervigilance Trap: When Your Body Becomes the Threat

Hypervigilance means constantly scanning your surroundings for danger. But when the danger came from inside your own body, where exactly are you supposed to feel safe?

Every chest flutter is a heart attack. Every dizzy spell is a stroke. And don’t even get me started on tracking your own breathing. Your body becomes a 24/7 threat detection system, and you’re the one being surveilled.

I drink water like it’s a competition. I got a fitness tracker. I monitor every symptom: is that back pain from fibro, chronic kidney disease, or something more sinister? Often, I’ve just pulled a muscle from existing too hard—but my brain doesn’t buy that.

The Symptoms No One Prepares You For

We all know PTSD comes with flashbacks, nightmares, and anxiety. But medical PTSD has some bonus round features:

  • Medical Setting Panic: The sound of a heart monitor beep? Instant terror.
  • Body Betrayal Complex: Your once-trusty body now feels like a traitor.
  • Gratitude Guilt: You’re supposed to feel thankful, but mostly you feel terrified. Then you feel guilty about not feeling thankful. It’s like emotional inception.
  • Hypervigilant Exhaustion: Your body never relaxes, so your muscles never heal. Which means you always hurt. Which means your mood crashes. And the cycle repeats.

When I close my eyes, I don’t see calm or rest. I see regret. Unfinished business. Conversations I didn’t have. My muscles are always clenched. If I’m always hurting, I’m always depressed—and if I’m depressed, I’m even more tense. Rinse and repeat.

When Existing Conditions Complicate the Picture

If you already had health issues, medical trauma PTSD is like throwing a grenade into a house of cards. For me, fibromyalgia, ADHD, and bipolar disorder were already hard enough. Add PTSD?

  • ADHD + Hypervigilance = Brain ping-pong with a side of dread.
  • Bipolar + Trauma = Racing thoughts that might be mania or might be panic. Who knows?
  • Fibro + PTSD = Every ache becomes a “what if.”

The Irony of Fighting Fear While Pretending You Aren’t

The most exhausting part? You know it sounds ridiculous. You know your stats. You know not every chest tightness is a heart attack. But logic doesn’t matter. PTSD doesn’t speak statistics.

So you’re fighting fear with one hand while pretending to be okay with the other. Panic attack on the inside, small talk on the outside.

The Treatment Nobody Mentions

Here’s a shred of hope: studies show mindfulness-based therapy can actually help cardiac arrest survivors manage PTSD. It’s not one-size-fits-all, but it’s a start.

The problem is, most doctors don’t screen for PTSD after a medical event. They’re focused on your physical recovery. The emotional wreckage? Not on the chart.

Living in the Plot Twist

Some days, I can go hours without mentally scanning every inch of my body. Other days, it’s like I have ESPN for doom.

The real twist? Surviving doesn’t always make you feel grateful. It can make you feel fragile. And maybe that’s okay.

Maybe we don’t need to bounce back stronger. Maybe we just need to keep going, scared or not. That’s resilience too.

The Ongoing Experiment

Every day, I try to live without panicking about living. Some days I fail. Some days I don’t. But I’m still here. Still experimenting. Still trying. Til next time gang, you’re not alone, take care of yourselves, and each other!

If you’re navigating this too, you’re not broken. You’re not being dramatic. You’re surviving something nobody talks about.

Sources:

  1. Columbia University Department of Psychiatry – Mindfulness-based Therapy for Cardiac Arrest Survivors
  2. PubMed – PTSD in Cardiac Arrest Survivors
  3. American Heart Association – Psychological Impact of Cardiac Arrest
  4. Cleveland Clinic – PTSD Symptoms and Treatment
  5. Mayo Clinic – PTSD Causes and Risk Factors
  6. Bay Area CBT Center – Understanding Hypervigilance
  7. Balanced Awakening – Hypervigilance and Trauma
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What Rest Feels Like When You’re Used to Being in Crisis

JoLeave a comment

Rest is weird.

Let’s just start there. Because when your baseline is fight-or-flight, freeze-or-fawn, dissociate-or-die-trying… “rest” doesn’t always feel peaceful. Sometimes it feels like guilt. Or like you’re forgetting something. Like you’re doing life wrong.

If you’ve lived in survival mode for months or years—or forever—it’s not just that you don’t rest. It’s that you’ve forgotten what real rest is supposed to feel like.

1. Rest Feels Like Uncertainty at First

The first few minutes of trying to rest when you’re used to chaos? Horrible. It’s like the world got too quiet and suddenly your brain is staging a protest:

  • “Shouldn’t you be doing something right now?”
  • “Is the other shoe about to drop?”
  • “Are you being lazy or just conveniently forgetful?”

I have terrible self talk and my therapist always has me ‘reframe’ things. Turns out, your nervous system isn’t sure what to do when it isn’t in go-go-go mode. It gets twitchy. Suspicious. Like a cat in a bathtub.

2. Rest Can Look Lazy When It’s Actually Life-Saving

Rest isn’t always bubble baths and soft jazz. Sometimes rest looks like staring at the ceiling, numb and unmoving, because that’s all your body can manage. And that counts. Especially when you’re healing.

Some people take naps. Sometimes I can but I keep naps under an hour if exhaustion hits.
Others… collapse. I’ve done that. I’ve driven cross country 21 hours and legitimately passed out cold. I was apparently parked in front my aunt’s neighbors tennant’s garage and they banged on the window, clearly seeing me sleeping on the couch and not hearing them. LOL They thought I was dead,

Same nervous system need, just wearing different outfits.

3. Rest Doesn’t Mean Everything Is Fixed

Here’s the kicker: you can be exhausted and doing nothing. That’s not failure. That’s biology catching up.

Rest doesn’t mean you’re healed, fixed, or suddenly energetic. Though it helps when the goal is reached. Sometimes it’s just the space between breakdowns. And that’s okay. That’s real. That’s progress, even if it doesn’t sparkle.

4. Rest Can Feel Like Withdrawal

When adrenaline has been your main fuel source, rest can feel like crashing after a sugar binge. You may feel down, irritable, even achey. You’re not broken. Your brain’s just recalibrating. Imagine detoxing from chaos. That’s what this is. Detoxing from adrenaline.

5. You Might Feel Worthless While Resting—But You’re Not

This one cuts deep: “If I’m not producing, I’m not valuable.” Sound familiar?

That’s a trauma belief, not a truth. My eyes were opened with this little nugget, my therapist was the one who started it, and I did believe no one cared about me unless I did things for them, even though I love people without calculating what they can do for me, my brain was hard-wired to tell me I was worthless and I STILL have more days I believe the bad over the good about myself. Curious to see how many of you guys have felt that way too.

We live in a society that measures worth by productivity, but healing means learning your value exists even when you’re still. Even when you’re not doing. You don’t have to earn your rest. You deserve it because you’re human and thats hard enough.

So How Do You Learn to Feel Rest?

Gently. And over time.

Here are a few ways to start:

  • Name it. Tell yourself, “I am resting right now,” even if it feels like loafing.
  • Track your thoughts. Notice when guilt or shame show up. Are they old scripts? Keep a journal by your bed and write whats bothering you down before you lay down so you know you can work on it tomorrow.
  • Set tiny rest rituals. One song. One stretch. One sit on the porch. Practice. One little thing, whatever it is, that gets your mind to stop spinning and rest.
  • Celebrate doing less. Rest is not a reward. It’s a requirement. Its hard NOT to reward ourselves with rest, thats why we have to re-frame our thoughts how we talk to ourselves.

Final Thought: If You’ve Been in Crisis, You Deserve to Feel Safe in Stillness

That’s the hard part—retraining your body and brain to trust quiet moments. But you can. One awkward attempt at a time. You’re not failing when rest feels weird. You’re rewiring. That’s brave work.

And if no one’s told you lately: you’re doing a damn good job surviving. Now, let’s practice what it means to actually live. It feels like all I’ve done my adult life is to go from surviving one thing to surviving the next, I’m going to try and make more time to look around and enjoy the in between. I’ll keep you posted. If anyone has any tips to help with rest be kind and share it with the class. Til next time gang, take care of yourselves, and each other!

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Things I Forgave Myself For This Week

JoLeave a comment

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)

I believe I’ve shown that to my kids considering the sheer volume of mistakes I make on the daily. The best thing you can teach a kid is that they wont always be right and how to apologize when they aren’t.

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)

Truth I cry for nearly every emotion at least once a day

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!

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What I Wish People Knew About Parenting With a Body That Doesn’t Cooperate

JoLeave a comment

(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’re doing enough. More than enough.

Want to connect with more parents who get it?
👉 https://www.pinterest.com/wannabenormal/
or visit my etsy shop https://www.etsy.com/shop/JoknowsCreations
📌 Share this post to remind another spoonie mama she’s not alone.
Til next time gang. Take care of yourselves, and each other!!!

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The Real Truth About Living With Multiple Medical Conditions (From Someone Who Gets It)

JoLeave a comment

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!