Things you may never know will be your last, until they are:

✨The last time you’ll sit somewhere, sun streaming on your face

✨The last time you’ll be too hot or too cold

✨The last shower you’ll take

✨The last book you’ll read

✨The last movie you’ll watch

✨The last thing you’ll write

✨The last time you’ll change your profile picture on your socials, locking an image in place for perpetuity

✨The last bite of food you’ll enjoy

✨The last sip of coffee you’ll savor

✨The last time you’ll strap your helmet on

✨The last ride you’ll take

✨The last time you’ll see the ocean

✨The last flower you’ll smell

✨The last sunrise or sunset you’ll witness

✨The last time you’ll see the moonrise

✨The last tree you’ll hug

✨The last song you’ll sing

✨The last laugh you’ll have

✨The last cry you’ll have

✨The last argument you’ll have

✨The last letter you’ll send

✨The last pain you’ll feel

✨The last pill you’ll take

✨The last sleep you’ll experience

✨The last face you’ll see

✨The last hug you’ll give

✨The last time you’ll say “I love you”

✨The last breath you’ll take

Life is excruciatingly short.

✨Love hard ✨Forgive easily ✨Embrace every moment.

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Since then, I’ve read a ton of material and watched loads of creator videos talking all about our symptoms, challenges, tips & tricks, but more than anything, I’ve been struggling to get my head wrapped around the art of “unmasking”.

Unmasking is far more complex than I ever could have anticipated. I estimate that I began masking at about age 3-5, as I know I was “a lot” as a child.

This is also likely the time when I started turning all that external hyperactive behavior inward to make myself more palatable.

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So, how does one peel back all of those defensive layers that were implemented to survive this life? How do you know when you’ve reached authenticity? For me (as a very visual person) I see it like peeling back dead layers of skin from a severe sunburn, you just feel when you’ve hit healthy tissue.

I’ve also realized that we do not live in a NO MASK world - everyone masks!

Monday through Friday I work in a business office with up to 300 people, and I’ve been here 16 years so there are very few people who I don’t know, or who don’t know me. Most days I would love to just enter and exit completely invisible to avoid small talk and obligatory greetings. Can we just agree to smile and nod? Masking is exhausting.

Anyway, to my point… It occurred to me on this journey of self-discovery that no one has ever had to opportunity to truly love me - the real, unmasked me. How could they if they never knew who I was? If I never knew who I was? Each and every romantic relationship I’ve ever had was met with some masked version of myself.

I was the consummate “people pleaser” often living and acting in service of those around me, trying to represent the “perfect partner” and trying hard to fit in somewhere, anywhere and wanting to be loved and accepted. My needs, if I even knew what they were, were not a priority. Too often my partner was perfectly happy while I was perfectly miserable. Resentment would creep in and kill the vibe and inevitably things would end. No shade to those who genuinely tried - you can’t know what you can’t know.

The past 6 years has seen me gloriously single, really digging deep to heal old wounds, and find and free myself to be who I am actually meant to be, authentically. I’m loving this season of life!

I love me, the real me.

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RSD - Rejection Sensitivity Dysphoria. Holy hell, this is an actual thing! I’m not just overreacting (well, I am, but with good reason) there is a clinical reason for my reaction. I always thought that I was just overly sensitive and overreactive to natural delays that sometimes happens in a busy world. True enough, some people are just twats, but for the most part, the world has its own circadian rhythm and that sometimes means people (often also neurospicy) get distracted (squirrel) and it either takes a moment to respond to that text/email/whatever or they legitimately forget! We’re all guilty of this at some point and I’m here to tell you that there need be no guilt! Shit happens!

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ADHD/Task Paralysis. Oh lordy, this one. Zero task initiation due to complete and utter overwhelm. I can have 10 things that require my attention, including deadlines, but unless it’s life or death - nope.

Hyperfixation. How many lost hours while doing jigsaw puzzles or doom scrolling TikTok. Doing my best not to judge myself, but I always wonder what would happen if I were able to hyperfixate on more productive tasks, like cleaning my house or clearing out my closet… I feel like Time Blindness folds into this one. It’s always a little shocking and sometimes sad how time just disappears when I’m absorbed doing something I enjoy.

Body Doubling. I would for SURE benefit from having someone to body double. I’m always WAY more motivated to do things when someone else is there doing them with me. Who wants to be my housekeeping body doubler???

Not ADHD specific, but I’ve also learned that I have an Insecure Attachment Style. As much as I hate this one, I DO require reassurances. Not just from romantic partners but from close family and friends. If I have offended you in any way EVER, speak on it immediately. Otherwise, I will torture myself with any absence of communication as if I’d set the bridge between us on fire with added gasoline for extra measure. My logical brain knows better, but that matters not in the moment.

I would love to hear more about things you’ve learn since either suspecting you’re neurospicy or been properly diagnosed.

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Fridays are funny

They are both jam packed with potential for the weekend ahead, and dread, because we’re already exhausted. Once a month I muster the energy to gather with my Dames (Motorcycle Collective monthly meetup). Now this preparation starts on Monday. My view of the week is like looking through an old pirate’s spyglass/telescope. (Had to Google “what do you call a pirate’s one eyed binocular - because I couldn’t remember the word). I orient myself to the week, and the countdown begins. If I get enough sleep on Thursday, Friday will be easy peasy, but I’ll start the week by trying to bank rest. *insert maniacal laughter here* There is also the planning phase which includes counting down backwards to “shower days”. Neurospicy folks really seem to struggle with the whole shower situation - but let’s put a pin in that for another post.

Here is where reality REALLY gets in the way. Having plans later in the week becomes an obsession. Each day, you become obsessed about the fact that the thing that is actually happening, that you need enough energy to actually DO the thing and that there is some crazy notion that you have any control over what happens between now and when you get to the thing (that will only happen if you miraculously remember). Following so far?

Please tell me that some of this is familiar to some of you… I’m pretty sure I’ve safely wrapped my friendship group of mostly neurospicy people like a warm downy blanket (or a spicy tortilla). For anyone who is neurotypical, I am sorry (not really) but this is “our” reality.

What was I talking about…? Oh right, shit, we’re only on Monday. So that is also a thing. The week is broken up into two specific parts - the worky parts - Monday-Friday, and the weekend parts - YAY. (The weekend is defined as Friday after work until about 4pm on Sunday when the worky parts start to seep in again) You gut your way through the worky parts just to glory in the weekend parts. Pretty much it’s rinse and repeat Monday through Thursday. Game over when you wake up Friday, whether you’ve banked enough energy or not!

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The night before.

CHARGE ALL THE THINGS! I wear a com on my helmet that can be used to connect and talk to other riders (but I never do because I have enough of my own voices, thankyouverymuch), but more importantly, connects to my phone so I can listen to music (must sooth the brain beasts). Must make sure the com is charged! Backup chargers. Most of my weekend rides are LONG, so I need to ensure my phone stays charged, hence the backup chargers. If it’s winter, my cordless heated gear MUST BE CHARGED. I must be charged! This means getting as good a night’s sleep as possible. Early to bed and every effort is made to quiet the committee in my brain that wants to ruminate about all the things. “What route are we riding?” “Who is leading the ride?” “Who is gonna show up, do I like them, feel safe riding near them, etc?” “Do I need gas?” “Is there enough air in my tires?” “Did I clean my visor before I put my helmet away last time?” “Did I plug in all the things?” “Did I check the weather?” It’s not often I have sufficient rest on an ordinary day, but it’s so important to be rested and sharp on a ride day.

Morning preparation.

Coffee early and often. Don’t want to have to pee after I leave the house, so I caffeinate early so I can eliminate all fluids sufficiently before I roll out. Check all the things to ensure they charged sufficiently. Head out back and uncover the bike, make sure she starts, check fuel level, top up tires if necessary. Getting dressed is a TASK! How many layers do I think I need. Am I more concerned with looking cute or being as warm as possible. What is my hair doing this morning? Braids, ponytail, run with it? How’s my face? Is yesterday’s makeup still there? Should I wash my face and start from scratch? Sunscreen… Do I want to wear makeup or go for the clean look? BRUSH TEETH.

Getting dressed in specific order is important and takes a lot of brain fuel: base layers, make sure socks, bra and underwear go on first. Leggings (if it’s cold out) go over socks and under pants. Long sleeve goes under T-shirt, do I want a tank under that? Okay, pants over and tuck all the things, belt then boots. The style of boots is determined by the leg of pants. Narrow pants get tucked into tall boots; bootleg pants go over mid length boots. So much of what I wear is determined by the day, destination and complexity of the roads we’ll be on. More protection for more complicated routes (but basic protection ALWAYS). Lastly are hoodie (zip or pull over), riding jacket and of course my Dames vest.

Now to the contents of my tank bag. Hydration is important so either a water hydration mixture in my favorite bottle, or in a pinch grab a Gatorade. Do I have, want or need any snacks? We build in gas/pee/snack stops into most of our rides. Earplugs, various neck buffs, sunscreen, basic tools, meds, Dames swag, check! Lastly, cigarettes, lighter and chapstick, check! Check phone for any last-minute messaging, double check who has signed up to show up, mental note who’s likely going to be late or no-show (they know who they are) and get ready to roll out. Last snacks for the pups on the way out the door. Gear up (jacket/vest combo and helmet on), quick text to at least one rider that I’m OMW, make sure I have my glasses on, gloves in hand, tank bag and all the keys, lock up and roll out.

I would love to know if neurotypical riders just get up, get dressed, slap on a helmet and go, or if there is any/some of this exhausting process involved…

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The key to peace is acceptance.

Accept that all of the changes are happening for a higher good in your life. It absolutely may not feel like it while it’s happening. Good people are in injured, get sick, pass away. Relationships and jobs end. Pets leave us through illness or age. Accepting that these are the rules of living through this life allows you to move more smoothly through the grieving process and carry on with your purpose.

Don’t get stuck on the “why”.

Getting stuck on the why will create unmanageable agony and won't change the outcome. Accept that all is exactly as it is meant to be. Process this notion, know that it is true. If you are stuck, it is you that needs to change. Release romantic or impossible ideals. Find the learning in the pain, giving it purpose for occurring in your life. Assigning purpose will help with acceptance. Grieve, learn and grow.

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It’s taken me a number of years to learn to allow myself to just rest. Listen, I get it, the laundry won’t do itself, the dishes also won’t do themselves, and no matter how hard I try, no house elf has appeared to make my life more bearable, so rest it is. But it’s not without a price - guilt. Having grown up in a “if there’s time to lean, there’s time to clean” culture of overextending ourselves, taking time for self-care seems to always have a price tag attached. I realize that it’s absolutely necessary to conserve the limited energy available to me, but negotiating the cost is another struggle.

Work is first.

I drag my tired ass to work Monday-Friday, 8am to 5pm. Work means a roof over our heads (me & the pups), gas in the vehicles and food in the fridge, but work doesn’t “fill my cup”. I realize this is a choice, per say, but we do get to a place in life where it feels less and less like an option. Starting over at 57 with pretty significant mental and physical limitations feels impossible. Learning new things while constantly on the brink of burnout just doesn’t happen. The “why bother” starts to creep in, and that’s never a good thing.

Why I bother.

Why do I keep going? My parents, bless them so much for being incredible humans who I am so very blessed to still have in my life. My pups, who are basically my children (a blessing & a curse). My tribe. My tribe are a carefully curated, eclectic mix of incredible individuals who wholly embrace me, my limitations, all my weirdness and most of all, FILL MY CUP! Many of whom are fighting their own battles, we SEE each other - that’s keeps me going. This is why I bother.

What helps keep me going?

Riding. I’ve been a motorcyclist for nearly 27 years, and it has saved my life more than it’s risked it. Being in the wind is the only time my brain simmers down, and I feel in complete control. Mobility is not an issue; I soar around more agile than my decrepit vessel will ever allow and I am the ruler of my destiny! King of the world!! Wait, what were we talking about? Oh right, riding. It’s the most freedom I can imagine from my earthly confines, while still living. It is a weekly goal to get out and get a little throttle therapy every weekend.

What’s left?

Weekends. One day to ride, one day to do chores, errands and rest = reset. I cannot over commit to social activities. I cannot see everyone I’d like to spend time with. I cannot be all things to all people - I lack the bandwidth. I may agree to plans on a Tuesday for Saturday, and just not be able to make it. In an effort to disappoint myself and others less, I sign up for much less. Under promise and hope to over deliver. It’s a compromise. I know what I need to do to survive right now, today. I do my best to store energy like a squirrel hiding nuts for the winter, but energy rarely works that way. But I try.

How’s your bandwidth?

PS, I can’t promise flowers and sunshine, but I can promise to always show up authentically.

I believe our “definitions” are meant to evolve with us and that it is perfectly fine to try on various descriptors to see what fits. Try on, rinse and release as often as necessary.

What is this all about?

I am compelled to find a writing space where all other efforts to share thoughts and information have fallen flat. Who knows with the way my brain works, this may take root and really become a thing, or I will once again lose interest and a fraction of who I once was will be relegated to the digital archives of history, like so many efforts before. All I can do is try, so that’s what I’m here to do.

I have long been a (long winded) writer of various and sundry topics, including messages I receive from the universe that I feel compelled to share. Sadly, the part of my brain that requires a steady stream of dopamine to function demands a certain amount of attention be paid to my writing in order for it to “matter”. When no one reads, reacts, comments or shares, I feel like a fraud (read: imposter) and quit (rejection sensitivity). I’m determined to write for myself and not care if anyone else finds it interesting or not. Let’s roll the dice and see what happens, shall we?

My promise to you:

I will be completely inconsistent, my content will jump ALL over the place and often not make a lick of sense. You will either grow a fondness for my odd style, or you will wish you could reclaim the time it took to read my ramblings. If you feel like gambling, stick around and maybe we’ll both be pleasantly surprised!

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