This is kind of related to something that’s been bothering me lately. I’ve lived with unmedicated ADHD for my entire life which was originally incorrectly diagnosed as major depressive disorder. So spent over a decade repeatedly playing pharmacology roulette cycling through various antidepressants none of which worked (because depression wasn’t the root issue). All the while I was just barely holding down a job I could barely stand, alienating myself from everyone I knew, and just barely avoiding giving myself a shotgun slug root canal. Needless to say I was stressed as fuck.
Then I got properly diagnosed with ADHD, put on meds that actually worked amazingly, got a new job I loved with my newfound executive function, and generally got my life into shape. This just so happened to take place at the end of 2024. So, despite the entire fucking world falling apart around me and everyone being stressed, I am relatively stress free for the first time in my life. It’s a weird thing where everything globally is more fucked than I can even fully properly conceive of and yet despite that I personally have never felt better. The two things aren’t related but It still feels weird being happiest I’ve ever been when the world as I knew it is falling apart.
Anyways, that’s a very long way to say that sometimes stress doesn’t coincide with the end of the world.
I was one of a small segment that used Covid not to fall down the ladder of alcohol abuse but to get sober and clean totally, and the ensuing mortgage pause saved my house, and I didn’t lose anyone - so my memories and impression of Covid is a lot rosier than some folks.
Actually during the weird week of 9/11, everyone was in a daze, and I used that to slip back into society which I had dropped out of for a year, staying in my apartment. Everyone’s in shell shock the next day, and my PTSD brain is just humming along like normal, it was like I had a superpower. I kind of have a history of using national emergencies to climb back out of holes.
This is kind of related to something that’s been bothering me lately. I’ve lived with unmedicated ADHD for my entire life which was originally incorrectly diagnosed as major depressive disorder. So spent over a decade repeatedly playing pharmacology roulette cycling through various antidepressants none of which worked (because depression wasn’t the root issue). All the while I was just barely holding down a job I could barely stand, alienating myself from everyone I knew, and just barely avoiding giving myself a shotgun slug root canal. Needless to say I was stressed as fuck.
Then I got properly diagnosed with ADHD, put on meds that actually worked amazingly, got a new job I loved with my newfound executive function, and generally got my life into shape. This just so happened to take place at the end of 2024. So, despite the entire fucking world falling apart around me and everyone being stressed, I am relatively stress free for the first time in my life. It’s a weird thing where everything globally is more fucked than I can even fully properly conceive of and yet despite that I personally have never felt better. The two things aren’t related but It still feels weird being happiest I’ve ever been when the world as I knew it is falling apart.
Anyways, that’s a very long way to say that sometimes stress doesn’t coincide with the end of the world.
I was one of a small segment that used Covid not to fall down the ladder of alcohol abuse but to get sober and clean totally, and the ensuing mortgage pause saved my house, and I didn’t lose anyone - so my memories and impression of Covid is a lot rosier than some folks.
Actually during the weird week of 9/11, everyone was in a daze, and I used that to slip back into society which I had dropped out of for a year, staying in my apartment. Everyone’s in shell shock the next day, and my PTSD brain is just humming along like normal, it was like I had a superpower. I kind of have a history of using national emergencies to climb back out of holes.