Your post resonated with me in a way I wasn’t expecting. I’ve been there, staring at my own work and feeling like it’s nothing but noise, nothing anyone would want to hear. That raw frustration you shared—the push and pull between wanting to create and doubting the worth of what you’ve made—it’s something I’ve wrestled with, too.
I appreciated your honesty about ADHD and neurodivergence. I live with ADHD myself, and it often feels like my brain is this chaotic storm of ideas I can’t quite harness. But what I’ve started to realize is that the mess is part of the magic. It’s the source of unique perspectives, even if it doesn’t always feel that way in the moment.
You described your writing as “garbage,” but I think those moments of self-doubt are where the real work happens. They’re not flaws—they’re part of the process. Writing, especially when you’re neurodivergent, isn’t about perfection. It’s about showing up, wrestling with the chaos, and creating something real.
Thank you for sharing this. Your words are a reminder that even the messy, imperfect parts of the process hold value. Keep writing—not because you have to, but because your voice matters.
There is so much to relate to in this post. Thank you for your honesty, thank you for being kinder to yourself, thank you for reminding everybody that it’s all right to lose your mind in an ambitious plan you made up when you had the energy, or the time, or the money, or the mental health.
Your post resonated with me in a way I wasn’t expecting. I’ve been there, staring at my own work and feeling like it’s nothing but noise, nothing anyone would want to hear. That raw frustration you shared—the push and pull between wanting to create and doubting the worth of what you’ve made—it’s something I’ve wrestled with, too.
I appreciated your honesty about ADHD and neurodivergence. I live with ADHD myself, and it often feels like my brain is this chaotic storm of ideas I can’t quite harness. But what I’ve started to realize is that the mess is part of the magic. It’s the source of unique perspectives, even if it doesn’t always feel that way in the moment.
You described your writing as “garbage,” but I think those moments of self-doubt are where the real work happens. They’re not flaws—they’re part of the process. Writing, especially when you’re neurodivergent, isn’t about perfection. It’s about showing up, wrestling with the chaos, and creating something real.
Thank you for sharing this. Your words are a reminder that even the messy, imperfect parts of the process hold value. Keep writing—not because you have to, but because your voice matters.
Kevin
Keep exploring you.
You've got this!
There is so much to relate to in this post. Thank you for your honesty, thank you for being kinder to yourself, thank you for reminding everybody that it’s all right to lose your mind in an ambitious plan you made up when you had the energy, or the time, or the money, or the mental health.