I was dissociating in a HomeGoods earlier and the only thing that could snap me out of it was him... Thomouse Jefferson...
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HoO is so funny to me when you actually think about the ages of all the characters. Octavian is 18. Percy and Annabeth are 16, almost 17. Reyna is presumably 16. Frank just turned 16, Jason’s about to turn 16. Leo and Piper are like 15. Hazel’s like 14 and a half, and Nico is 13.
The Death Sibs are both the youngest and oldest on the Argo II. Octavian is a college freshman getting into petty drama with a bunch of high schoolers. He gets told to shut up at one point by a random 8th grader. Everyone is scared of the 8th grader. We Sent A 13 Year Old To Superhell and he came back weirder, Just Like Middle School. TLH was just three high school sophomores being sent to do a task and it going Exactly Like You’d Expect. Percy’s the only demigod on the ship who can legally drive (though Reyna gets her drivers license at some point before TOA). What Is Happening.
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The way Percy talks about himself in the show though, having ADHD and dyslexia, saying he knows that something is wrong with his brain, it’s heartbreaking.
Because stepping aside from the magic and monsters, this is a kid who’s internalized the ableist messages and bullying that’s been directed at him. He believes that having ADHD and dyslexia means that something is broken in his head. Not that his experience is natural, another one of the many different ways that people go through the world, but that his difficulties mean his brain is broken, and by extension, he is innately wrong.
It’s this out loud recognition of the struggling quiet part of someone with a learning disability, who can’t figure out what is going on with themself. They don’t know why they are the way they are, they don’t know how to manage it, and they certainly haven’t accepted it as a part of them, trying to fit into the expectations of a neurotypical society. All they know is that according to everyone else, they’re ‘wrong’. So they must just be ‘wrong’.
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i know i didnt really show it in my lb partly bc it got kinda personal for me halfway in and i started forgetting to actually record my thoughts but isat might have like. actually meaningfully changed my life??
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the conversation is still haunting my brain even though i know that fucking psychiatrist clearly didnt know shit about add/adhd beyond little boys who cant sit still or pay attention in school bc he was apparently under the impression that its always easy to spot and gets diagnosed in grade school
me literally asking him if he knew the difference in presentation in afab vs amab ppl or how afab ppl get diagnosed later or misdiagnosed. telling him about how emotional dysregulation is a symptom (and one of my biggest ones) and how its been like that my entire life and him saying "oh thats just the anxiety and bipolar."
the biggest thing sticking in my head is how my mom mentioned when i started having trouble with high school in my teen years and how i was diagnosed with depression and autism during that time and he was talking about how adhd didnt fit because "it doesnt start when ur fifteen"
well neither does autism but thats when i got THAT diagnosed. almost like the symptoms can go unnoticed for an extended period of time especially if theyre internalized like with me and how i had literally JUST been talking about how adhd is underdiagnosed and late diagnosed for AFAB ppl but he just wants to be part of the reason why afab ppl dont get diagnosed (which i started to tell him but i attempted to restrain myself
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I sorted the laundry. Like, all of the laundry.
I've only done laundry once since coming home at the end of July, so I've been down to my last clean shirt for like 4 days. I don't want to leave the house because it's an unpleasant experience for me and the people around me.
I don't particularly like my clothes, but I know that I have clothes I do like. Somewhere. My mom's response to a dirty space is packing everything into a box to sort through later, so I've been doing that for years. I have boxes that haven't been touched since 2010, and piles of papers that have been around even longer.
So tonight I decided to dig through the boxes--all of the boxes--and find every item of clothing I own. Stuff hanging in the closet, marked as garage sale, or packed in a drawer was ignored, but everything else went into piles: t-shirt material, stretchy nylon/spandex material, undergarments/socks, hoodies (So. Many.), jeans, and towels. And then I decided what I need tomorrow: t-shirt, underwear, jeans. So those piles got sorted into what I like to wear and what I keep wearing because I'm out of clothes I like.
The stuff for tomorrow is all going in one load of laundry and that's fine. I wash it on normal with cold water and dry it on delicate. This has been my method for years since discovering it stopped my hoodies from pilling as fast. It works for me.
And tomorrow I'm going to have clothes I like again, and it feels amazing.
All of the boxes that I emptied, by the way, have been evicted. I'm not going to trick myself into thinking that system works for me anymore.
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Okay, it may sound a bit weird, but still…
For some reason I see Zigzag as ADHD or neurodivergent in general.
I came to that conclusion when I realized something - he doesn’t always get, when he’s being laughed at and he just doesn’t always get the sarcastic tone.
Like... He didn’t realize what was wrong, when King Nod and One Eye started laughing at his plans, he got it only when they told him about their rejections themselves. In case of his attitude to Yumyum he answers with the same sarcasm to her sarcastic tone, ‘cause they just don’t like each other and Zigzag was kinda prepared to such a negative talk with her.
I suppose so, ‘cause I can not always understand the sarcastic tone too. Especially when I’m not prepared for the far negative stuff. It can be also so, ‘cause he’s up to many things, but he’s not always able to do them correctly. Does he get distracted that way then?
He also speaks a lot to himself, so do I pretty often. Even when my mouth is shut, so I mumble then.
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you know it’s been a bad psychiatric appt when you have to follow it up with a best friend debriefing to rant out your feelings. and you know what’s peak invalidating to hear from a mental health professional after you describe your current symptoms and experience with a new medication? ‘that doesn’t make any sense.’ followed by a lecture about why i can’t possibly be having the reaction to the meds that I AM LITERALLY HAVING AND JUST EXPLAINED
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I finally completed the damn workshop i had to do because of my academic suspension. Godamn that was hard. But also easy. I hate this brain
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