Journal Entry

If you would so indulge me, I need to vent. Rant, whatever you want to call it. My ADHD is spiking and that transition from seasonal depression to normal, regular depression has got me in a daze. So, sit back, relax, and enjoy this (I’m guessing 4 minute read time) piece of digitized journal entry. 

Harken back to a simpler time. A time of childlike wonder, and gumption. A time before I had the wealth of the world’s knowledge in my pocket, and more feeling than thought. Ten years old, bright eyed and bushy tailed, on the cusp of a new millennium. I don’t remember the exact month but I’m calling it September, 1999. Just a few days before school was starting back up, I felt trapped, crushed, and overwhelmed. Hardly the simple feelings a child should be feeling but for some reason I couldn’t shake it. With much more initiative than I harbor now, child me sought to manage these feelings in a constructive environment, a place where I could garner new perspectives and think freely. But to get there, I couldn’t just do it in my little room. No, I need space, an area to grow and express. Fast forward through a lunch break to me pushing my mattress and box spring off my bed frame. Okay, now this is progress. As I continued to romp about my designated rectangle it occurred to me then as it does now, that something as simple as moving furniture tickled every little neuron in my developing brain. There was clarity, understanding, freedom in the ability to influence physical objects in my space, and I became obsessed. Moving a twin bed four feet to the right changed my life. And that seems like an overstatement-and it probably is, but I cherish this extremely distinct memory. I was sad, moved furniture, now happy. Had 10 year old me solved Neurodivergant thought? Am I experiencing psychiatric evaluation? Not really, and not even really when I spent almost eight years in therapy as a child, managing an ADHD diagnosis. Love and regards to Dr. Harvey but I don’t have many positive memories of that. Grading my performance in each class on a scale of one to three, having to go early and stay late. Watching my friends go scot-free for something I would be summarily punished for. Itty bitty ritalin rat, but I turned out alright. 

The point thoroughly belabored, I found great joy in rearranging the spaces I lived in. All throughout my life, an easy way to tackle any problem was to angle the bed a different way, or stack the two bedside tables. Repurpose an old piece of furniture found on the side of the road to inject new life into space hardly growing old. From high school, to college, to apartment, to new roommates, to new girlfriend, to fiance, to Covid based working, to new home, and to now. I’m sitting in a brand new office in a house I’ve lived in for three years. I flipped the bookshelf from the near wall to the far wall, purchased a larger desk to support my work space, shuffled a table into the closet, brand new carpet too. And I’m not even feeling the weight really. I’m not spiraling, or any of the what-have-you triggers that would necessitate such a change. I just felt cramped and stuck in an unfinished space.  

Please go ahead and make the change. I’m talking about shuffling your furniture. Change the perspective, influence the area around you to either support your next move or to just shake up your current routine. I will tell you from deep, unyielding experience that the first signs of any issues in my life is when my spaces start to clutter. My bedside table gets full, my clothes stop making it to the hamper, bags are unpacked, trash is not removed from my office. It is always the precursor to a larger problem and it took me years to recognize that behavior. And with a wife and dog, I have to be more vigilant. More hyper-aware of the environment we are creating. I find it so much easier to clean, and be proactive for them. But when it comes to myself, and my space whether its the office, or basement, or garage I am much more willing to let things slide. And slide they do until I’m nose-deep in unprocessed feelings. And in this instance, with the office, it took me months. As a younger man it would take me minutes to see my space and recognize a need for a change. Apologies to Mike for rearranging my room in our shared apartment whilst you tried to watch tv downstairs. It took me months because of any number of reasons to be honest, but I finally made it and I’m better for it. 

If you’re still here, and still waiting for me to get to the point, let me summarize. 

If we are in fact a product of our environment, then there is no reason we cannot influence or change that environment at will. What I’m saying is, you aren’t stuck no matter what life tells you.