Tag Archives: guilt

Lack of Focus

Roses are red,
Music is cool,
I’ve got ADHD,
ooh look a squirrel.

I grew up as a hyperactive child before any real proper diagnosis of ADD was ever done, and managed to some extent with a restricted diet free of many of the stupider E numbers.

So perhaps it shouldn’t be surprising that I’ve struggled with focus for a long time, and perhaps not in ways that others might. My mind often flits from thing to thing before I’m finished with it… Sometimes it’s almost as if I fear finishing things, fear taking that step.

As I say, I’ve struggled with this issue for a while… So I’ve decided to see what happens if I stop struggling so much. Allow myself to drift from idea to idea, with the added proviso that I at least try to finish things when I can.

Perhaps it should be obvious that I often feel as though I have a bit if an identity crisis. I find it hard to categorise myself; am I an author, an artist, a designer, a web coder, a video game maker, or… What?

Perhaps, for now, I’ll content myself with calling me a nerd.


Medication is apparently a perfectly viable way to treat depression and anxiety, provided it is accompanied by appropriate therapy…

It wasn’t long after this current episode of psychological issues began that I was advised that Cognitive Behavioural Therapy may be helpful to me.  Unfortunatly though it was close to four months between my first visit to a GP and my referral to a CBT counsellor actually completing.  During this time I was visiting my GP and a mental health nurse regularly, but the lack of any actual coherant counselling regimen was, I think, noticeable.

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Allowing Me To Be Me

Allowing myself to be depressed is one of the first real breakthroughs I feel like I have had, despite it not sounding like one, but I’ll explain.
Guilt has often been one of my real issues. Guilt at not being ‘ok’, guilt at not being ‘normal’, at not being capable of work at the moment. I’ve spent so much of the time kicking myself while I’ve been down that I’ve failed to notice how down that has made me, and I’ve failed to deal with the real problems.


I worry sometimes whether I’m deluding myself. These are often my darkest moments, when the muse has gone quiet and I’m sitting with a notebook or an app of some sort in front of me, and the thought presents itself: “I’m not actually any good at any of this”.

At these points I start to doubt my abilities, and begin to believe – and I’m having to tell myself now that this belief is in spite of evidence to the contrary – that I am simply not cut out for anything other than what I am right now.