Unfuck Your Habitat

funkasarusrex:

And Lo, the fucked was unfuckened

So here’s the deal. My brain broke about a month and a half ago, and I popped into my first-ever manic phase (now that’s a fun surprise), with no idea what the hell was wrong with my brain or why it stopped working. My apartment went all to shit. I cycled through a variety of meds all month-ones that made it so I couldn’t stop moving, ones that made me a zombie.  All the time off my adhd meds, unleashing my normal shit show unchecked (all this while I’m trying to get through my first semester of a PhD!). I can’t focus on anything. I can, however, focus on one thing at a time. Do a dish and then walk away. Pick up a book and walk away. Very slowly, very not-steadily. 

Those top pictures? Early november. It doesn’t happen in a day, but it happens. Slowly but surely and one thing at a time. 

Tonight, when I made myself my food for tomorrow morning, I spilled oats all over. But I swept them up! And wiped down the counters! And washed my utensils! And even swept up the whole kitchen after! Seriously who the fuck am I? I know who I am: I AM THE UNFUCKENATOR. Today I am, anyway. Tomorrow probably not. But the day after if I fuck up I can try again.