01/21/2026
Things I do not say...
People who have “known” me my whole life are shocked when I tell them that I have ADHD. They are shocked when they learn that I experienced depression and suicidal ideation when I was a teenager.
People who “know” me will tell you that I am outspoken and that I gave zero sh*ts about what other people thought, that I was going to do what I wanted when I wanted, regardless of the opinions of others.
To an extent, they are right.
What they don’t understand is that every action I took, every word I spoke (at least when I wasn’t under the influence of any intoxicating substance), every sentence I have spoken, was run through a filter. The gymnastics in my brain are impressive, busy, and meticulous.
How do I say what I need to in the most concise way possible?
How do I want people to perceive me?
What effect do I want to have here?
My most personal thoughts and feelings are rarely spoken; they are tucked away inside my brain, organized, acknowledged, and then locked away.
When the storage space is limited, I will release these thoughts from their captivity onto the pages of a journal or typed away in a note.
My deepest feelings are handled like hazmat: contained, carefully handled, and sequestered from outsiders.
For the longest time, I have held onto them because of the pain they might cause to others.
What I failed to realize about my thought storage system is that hanging onto all of the painful content would hurt the most important person: me.
There is no longer storage space for nuclear feelings inside my brain or in my
body.
There is a saying for people in recovery: “Secrets keep you sick.”
I understand now. Holding onto all of this pain has done some damage, and I am afraid the only way to stop the damage is to say the unsaid things.
I am ready to start.