Me when I’m focused: I find something cool to read. There is the vague awareness of sunlight no longer shining through the window behind me, followed by the return of said light. Wait, shit, that means I’ve been reading all night. If I didn’t keep snacks nearby, it’s possible that I wouldn’t have eaten.
Me when I’m unable to focus: I find something cool to read. I cannot make it past the first two paragraphs. Wow, there sure is a lot of text of the page. My brain refuses to properly process it. There are the sounds of a conversation in another room, the ever-present hum of electronics, cats walking on the roof. My foot itches, and I have a song stuck in my head. …Why am I poking myself in the face with a drinking straw? Where did I even get the straw?? Where did it come from???? I walk away, confused and realizing I’m hungry. I go to grab a can of beans, and come back with two coloring books, a pair of headphones and the overwhelming feeling that I forgot something. I put the items down on the couch and pace back and forth for no reason.
I wanna lay by a lake in Norway, I wanna walk through Swedish fields of green, I wanna see the forests of Finland, I wanna sail on a boat on the Baltic sea… (Passenger)
Can we leave all the “psychiatric medication is bad, evil and unnecessary” discourse in 2017 where it belongs and fucking accept that the brain is an organ that can get sick and need treatment just like any other part of the body?
Yeah I reblogged this 3x in a row. It was on purpose. Fight me.