Mrs. Writes-a-Latte

Read the previous instalments here –> Part 1, Part 2, Part 3

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Sunday, June 26, 2022

From Part 3

We moved back upstairs on the 10th of March 2020, almost two weeks before the country went into lockdown.

The electrician from Urban Company who came to install the chandelier in our living room (which, by the way, is called the “Lounge” in the UK, and is a separate room in the house with a DOOR!) was already wearing a mask and carrying sanitiser even though no specific mandates had been issued by the government until then.

Back then, my oldest (and only child at that point) was in Nursery and had a good 3 more weeks of school to go before the start of summer break. After we moved back upstairs, she went to school just one day before we decided it probably wasn’t safe to send her anymore. It was just as well because the school shut down too and we didn’t have to make her ‘miss’ school.

With that though, went the three weeks of 4-hour windows I would have had to set up the house, and use my brand new custom-made work desk to work on the novel that was itching to come out of me since December 2019 which I had already started working on and laid a lot of groundwork for.

Instead of having guaranteed ‘me time’ for three more weeks, I lost even the tiniest semblance of free time, privacy, or personal space for the next year or so. What I did get was more housework added to my plate because we asked the hired help to stay home in the interest of our safety as well as hers.

Part 4

Since stepping outside wasn’t safe anymore, everyone was ALWAYS at home. Which also meant that Laddoo’s stuff was ALWAYS everywhere. She didn’t leave her room clutter-free long enough for me to even record a room tour video especially since she also slept in her own room now. That was a major win for us – her independence as well as having our room and bed to ourselves, so we did not discourage it. But it also meant that her room was off-limits for me even at night.

Over two years later, it’s gotten worse because with another baby neither have I been able to supervise her play time as much as I’d like to, nor do I have the luxury to delay her bedtime by 15-20 minutes to ensure that she cleans up every day. These days she sleeps on a mattress on the floor in the master bedroom. I’m usually dealing with bedtime by myself and it’s way easier for me to have both the kids in the same room. Having the AC on in just one room instead of two saves on electricity costs and then we can keep it going for longer.

So while technically I do have the opportunity to film her room after both kids are asleep, I am so done with adulting by then that I don’t have the energy to even make the room presentable enough to get it on camera let alone clean up the mess. All I want to do is sit on the sofa, stare at the TV screen, and eat whatever the hell I want.

Now there are piles of clutter in her room, and toys are strewn everywhere, even on her bed because she’s not using it to sleep anymore. I cannot bear to look at her room, yet I cannot find the energy or motivation to clean it partly because I know it’s going to take just a day, maybe two for Laddoo to restore it to its former glory.

‘Revert’ is pretty apt here, actually. In fact, I think ‘revert’ is meant to be used in situations EXACTLY like this one.

With two kids in the house, toys have now spilled over to the living room as well. Additionally, there are these baby gates which, while supremely practical and life-saving, are blue, purple, and white, and ruin the ‘Industrial Cafe’ aesthetic of my living room.

Somehow, moving houses across continents seems like an easier task than getting this one in order. Just like starting a new book on a fresh blank page (screen) is easier than editing the mess made with a draft, isn’t it?

Nope?

Just me then?

Okaaaaaay.

Anyway, as a result, in my head I’m already thinking about living and sleeping arrangements in the new house such that the toys as well as the kids’ clutter stays in one place, somewhere I can shut the door and literally check out of at the end of the day and still walk into a reasonably clutter-free house. I don’t want to have to look at it during my free time, especially when I plan to write because the visual, while being a very strong deterrent to the creative flow is still not a strong enough motivator to actually make me get rid of it.

So I have decided to work WITH my brain instead of trying to get it to work FOR me.

Looking at clutter is problematic? Then I just don’t look at it when I need to get other stuff done because that ‘other stuff’ is important too, especially when it keeps me from losing my mind.

Secondly, the kids are going to sleep in a separate room, together, so that the grown-ups can have a room to themselves with a door that can be locked from the inside as needed.

Spoiler alert as of July 2023: Doors don’t have locks in the UK except for bathroom doors. And of course, the front door. And the back door. But we have suitcases, heavy ones, with lots of stuff in them that’ll hold the door for as long as we need them to. Which is why I’ma pick the heaviest one and call it Hodor. He was a hero.

Privacy issues aside, this also means we can access OUR stuff from OUR closets wardrobes (‘closet’ is American, you see) in OUR room while the kids are asleep in theirs. Right now, I just use the torch in my phone if I need to take something out in the dark or dump the folded clothes in there during the day because, well, putting them inside in an organised fashion would require taking all of them out first which will take a good hour at least and that’s the kind of time I don’t have during the week when the littlest is awake and will unfold every single garment if I look away even for just a second. The only saving grace is that the mess is behind a door so I don’t have to see it and I can function with that, so I decided to apply the same logic to the toys and resultant clutter.

Here’s hoping that the ‘Out of sight, out of mind’ logic works here.

Sometimes I wonder, though.

Are all these problems that got in the way of me ‘following through’ on my promises to myself, really that bad? Would anyone else have a similar experience if they were in the same situation or would they just power through and get stuff done? When I list all the reasons why I haven’t been able to do something (like the last 4 billion paragraphs on how I wasn’t able to record a video of my renovated house) and I go back and read it all, they do seem to sound like excuses_^#2 when I know they aren’t.

I know for sure that these “issues” – the unexpected delays, the sounds, the clutter, etc. don’t get in the way of my husband being able to do what he needs to do. Then is it me? Am I the problem?

…

You see what I just did there? I compared myself to a neurotypical and talked myself into thinking that I was making a big deal of nothing because everyone else is able to get on with their life without a pile of clutter bringing them down to the debilitating depths of the abyss that is Executive Dysfunction with a side of Sensory Overload with a nice little topping of burnout and overwhelm.

Deep inside I do know that I have these very real issues where my brain does not cooperate like others’ does, but I called them ‘excuses’ (see #2 above) and made it sound as if I was less than for not being able to function around ‘minor’ issues. It also requires mention that my first instinct was to use the word ‘excuse’ because that’s what those around me have called them.

And of course, I get defensive when confronted because I’m not a lazy person giving reasons to try and get out of doing boring stuff. Sometimes, the stuff isn’t even boring and I know in my head that I really, really, reeeeeeaaaally want to do everything I set my mind to.

But I have nothing to show for it.

Unless half-written books, abandoned series of posts and podcasts, unfinished craft projects, a half-organised-half-messy kitchen, craft supplies locked up and forgotten about, and a half-assed insta page where I make sporadic appearances count for anything.

And while I now know that this has everything to do with my ADHD, I’ve been conditioned into thinking that “if I really wanted to do it, I would” so I dismiss the very real struggles of having and living with ADHD and chalk it up to ‘oh that’s just lazy ‘ol me!’

These ‘issues’ may seem trivial to the average individual who may be able to sail through such ‘minor’ inconveniences, maybe even thrive in such situations, but for me, they’re major obstacles. The more I realise this, the more I want to delve deeper into how my brain works and help those close to me understand how best they can support me to be the best version of myself and tap into the underutilised ‘potential’ everyone seems to claim I have.

This, in turn, is beneficial for them as well, because all they have to do is keep me motivated and in a good mood, and I’ll do it; I’ll do it all that too by myself.

No, that doesn’t mean walking on eggshells around me. It means that when I say that today I’m going to work on an article that’s just itching to come out, maybe don’t try and talk to me every five minutes when you see my fingers moving on the keyboard. Or if you see me staring into space because what you see is that Nikita’s sitting idle when in reality my brain’s working at full speed figuring out how to get started/proceed.

And definitely don’t tell me what boring household chores I have to look forward do once I’m done writing because then neither the article nor the chore will get done.

Looking at you, Sandeep.

Writing about everything I remember seems to be the best way to go about it. To look back on memories, reflect on possible causes for things that happened and the way they did, and unpack whatever hidden lessons there might be in them. And while I am at it, why not share this with the rest of the world?

At worst, my oversharing will make someone laugh at my situation but still entertain them because I’m fairly confident about my writing skills and sense of humour. But let’s say I look at the best-case scenario, where these essays from my life end up helping someone identify similar patterns in their life and come to the same conclusion I did: It seems like I might have ADHD… how great would that be?

It would be even better if they reach that point well before they turn 35 because it could literally change their life and the decisions they take from that point forward.

And while a large part of my brain is fully focused on trying to manifest our move to the UK (I now have a better idea about the map of the UK than the map of Maharashtra), I’d like to divert some part of that amazing hyperfocus energy into writing this memoir because right now I have that itch to write and if I want to get this done, the itch needs to be scratched, and it needs to be NOW!

Meanwhile, I will continue to hope and pray that yet another fresh start in my life is just around the corner – another chance to do life again, to play house but a bit better, another opportunity to organise my life, another chance to make friends, start a new chapter.

Maybe I need to experiment with different ways to do things so I can find what works best for me. So this move is exactly what I need.

Yet another fresh start.

Because that’s what my life is about.

A Thousand Fresh Starts.

And that my friends, is the title of my memoir – A Thousand Fresh Starts. 🙂

If you read this post, would you do me the kind favour of leaving a simple comment saying that you did? “I read it” or even “read it” would be okay, really. Thank you 🙏🏼