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hello, big fan of your art!!! sorry to disturb you but I just need some help for advice on how to ask my mom about medications. I be olive I have ADHD and I can't even finish simple tasks anymore.... I just really need some motivation or anything you can offer really! thank you so so much, with love, anon
I grew up with type 1 ADHD. The thing that really helped me was rewarding myself with something that interested me after completing X amount of work. I’ll do ten questions and then I get to read a chapter of this fic. Or, I’ll read one chapter of assigned reading and then I’ll doodle for twenty minutes.
This tends to make homework take FOREVER. Breaking my not-interested-in work into pieces and dividing the not-interesting stuff with interesting stuff gave me a goal to work toward, though.
If your mind still wanders when you’re trying to work, find a quiet place and play some white noise to drown out any distracting sounds. If you’re on the hyperactive side, take a quick jog around the house before you start. Get a pen you can fiddle with that can be clicked without much thought.
Get plenty of rest.
ADHD is when the Reticular Activation System isn’t working at 100%, in broad terms. Which means your brain feels like it’s about to ‘fall asleep’ so it latches on to any and every thing to ‘wake itself up’. That’s why you’re mind wanders. By getting plenty of sleep, you help offset that feeling a little. =)
The music swelled, nearly masking the soft thump of the dancers on the stage. John flexed his fingers in his pocket. He inhaled, smelling sweat and chalk and makeup. “I want…” he paused, pulled out a hand to wipe his brow, let it dangle by his side. He closed his eyes. “I want to kiss you.” In one hurried breath it was out. For a moment he couldn’t hear Sherlock so he opened his eyes to reassure himself that he hadn’t been left standing alone by the curtain.
And he wasn’t. Sherlock stepped forward. His cheeks flushed with red and his fingers trembled as he reached a hand out, rubbing the pad of his thumb along the topmost button of John’s jacket. It was smooth and bronze, shining brightly in the light from the stage. Sherlock lifted his eyes to meet John’s. “So kiss me,” he whispered.
John shivered. His tongue swiped along his lip. He could feel the soft pressure of Sherlock’s hand on his chest, and he was sure Sherlock could feel John’s own heart beating a staccato rhythm on the inside of his ribs, a rhythm that increased even more when John lifted his hand to Sherlock’s wrist and held it between his fingers. The skin there was warm and plush, soft, crossed with crooked veins. John lifted the inside of Sherlock’s wrist to his lips and kissed it, slowly. Sherlock’s mouth fell open and he breathed in a shuddering swallow of air. The air between them shifted and stilled. It was replaced with their breath, the lightning in their touch, their blood pulsing through their ears. It was a tension that fully muted the music and stamp of feet coming from the stage as the other dancers performed.
An excerpt from an adult ballet!lock fic I’m working on
You are literally amazing. You are like some kind of advice superhero. I mean, I'm sure you're not perfect, because nobody is, but you seem incredibly kind and you make your blog a super safe place for people to just be themselves and it's utterly wonderful. Just thought you should know :) <3
Thank you, lovely!
I’m far, far from perfect. I’m just an incredibly sensitive person and I like to afford people all the courtesy I can muster because I’ll shrivel up and die otherwise. =)
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