The Freedom of Acceptance:
One of the unexpected gifts of being diagnosed with ADHD twenty-five years ago: I’m no longer embarrassed when my brain wanders off.
This is a form of self-care
I’ve stopped trying to camouflage every symptom. If someone’s talking and my attention slips sideways, I don’t fake it anymore. I just smile and say, “Oops. That blew right past me. What was that again?”
I say it with complete sincerity because the alternative is nodding thoughtfully while my brain is busy wondering whether Cowboy is lonely or if I need to put another quarter in the parking meter. Authenticity is a lot less exhausting than pretending I caught every word. There’s a peculiar freedom in accepting your own wiring. Plus, I’ve discovered that people are remarkably gracious when you’re honest.
I’ve also learned the importance of self-care:
Buying a phone charger for every room because “I’ll just move one” is a fantasy.
Having a bottle of water on every floor of the house.
Keeping medication next to the dog food because one habit can hitchhike on another.
Putting a laundry basket exactly where clothes naturally land instead of fighting physics.
Designated pair of “house scissors,” “craft scissors,” “kitchen scissors,” and “fabric scissors,” with multiple unknown scissors in every room. Also, scotch tape in every room.
Keeping lip balm in the car, purse, desk, bedside table, and the pocket of every jacket because dry lips wait for no one.
Buying a stash of gift bags and cards because wrapping presents at the last minute is an extreme sport I don’t partake in.
Hiding an emergency chocolate bar from myself.
What’s the best ADHD self-care tip of all?
Arranging my house for the person I am, not the person who always puts things back where they belong.
Often, we try too hard to become someone else to fit in, but what we desperately want is to be accepted for exactly who we are—quirks, overthinking, wandering mind, and all.
This is why I wrote a character like Serenity in my coming novel, Love and Other Incurable Ailments.
She grew out of my experiences navigating a world that sometimes felt confusing, overwhelming, or just off by a beat. Writing her allowed me to explore the humor, tension, and resilience in these traits, and to give readers a character who feels authentic in all her human complexity.
Think of the little rituals or coping tricks you’ve developed over the years—chances are, they’re keeping you sane in ways no one else can see. Many of us have strange coping mechanisms. Some of them are embarrassing, some are brilliant, and some of them are both.
Even though my experiences are specific, these underlying emotions are universal: anxiety, self-consciousness, sensitivity, the fear of being misunderstood.
How about you? What’s one little accommodation you’ve made for yourself that makes life easier?
Thank for visiting!
You can preorder Love and Other Incurable Ailments wherever books are available online, but please check out Regal House Publishing. They are a woman owned, independent, traditional publisher going up against the giants in publishing, and doing a mighty fine job, too!
