Oooh… Butterfly…

I am easily… easily… easily……. distracted. I’ve been a daydreamer since I was a child. I had a hard time maintaining focus in school, especially when I found something boring. This is normal. I’d guess most people have difficulty maintaining 100% focus when they are bored by a subject. These days my lack of, or inability to, focus is well past what I consider normal. I cannot stick to one thing. I am all over the place.

As noted previously, I do not write on my blog as often as I would like to. In my ideal world I would write multiple times a week, but I cannot seem to muster the focus (and motivation) to do so in the current world in which I live. For the past 7 years or so I have developed a habit of being gung-ho about pursuing various activities I’ve either had an interest in for quite some time, or something that just suddenly struck my fancy. I’ve wanted to write a blog several times over the past couple of decades. I would start, then stop, just as I have done with this blog. This past Fall I started to write more. I tricked myself into believing I had turned over a new leaf. Unfortunately, I have not. This will mark my first blog post in a month. It’s not that I don’t have anything on my mind; I just cannot focus for shit. The enthusiasm I had for writing in November has dissipated.

The list of endeavors I have embarked on over the last 7 years is pretty long: Business Degree (dropped out), Flipping Houses (flipped one), Blogging (start/stop, start/stop), Improv (no where near as frequently as I used to, even before the pandemic), Baking (I either bake a lot or not at all), LEGO building (I’ll build like crazy, then I won’t touch them for months), Painting – for fun (this one is new and lasted about 6 weeks), and the list goes on and on and on.

I have “focus” drugs. I was diagnosed with ADHD in 2018. I have tried both Vyvanse and Adderall, and just like everything else, I’m all about them at first, but then I can’t even commit to that. They do work, but after a few months, they make me feel manic, irritable, and insanely tired when they wear-off. There comes a point when they don’t help as they are intended. I quit taking them.

Several years ago, my husband and I would have a recurring fight where I would get upset about the amount of time he spent in the garage. I felt he wasn’t spending anytime with me. When I would bring up that I felt like he was avoiding me or neglecting me, he’d get upset. He claimed tinkering (a word I fucking loathe) with engines was his, “passion,” and would suggest I find a passion. I felt like I was so far down on the list of importance to him, but that is another issue all together.

I’ve been working on finding a passion. All I seem to find are distractions. I have many things I enjoy, but I don’t have the time to pursue much of anything beyond an initial roaring flame of excitement. The flame dies down, and sits smoldering. Life gets in the way. I have responsibilities in the form of two sons. I have a house to maintain. I have appointments to attend. Blah… blah… blah…

Honestly, I was happier when I was more selfish. When I did what I wanted and put the others in my house second. I didn’t run my life around their schedule, I ran their lives around mine. At some point I stopped doing that. I’m fairly certain that point was when my husband moved back in after our 9 month separation. I think it was at that moment I subconsciously gave up on myself. It’s also the moment I tried to treat my chronic depression and my newly diagnosed ADHD. It’s like both drugs made each condition worse. They went from somewhat manageable to wait… what was I going to say?

I suppose I am destined to spend the next 40 years of my life distracting myself with one mini-passion after another. I’m considering taking up piano. That should last me about 4-6 weeks.


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