awareness ribbons for everyone

Posted in broken kimli, everyday kimli, medical anomaly, science by

Take a little bit from column A, add a dash of column B, and there you have it: a shiny new AuDHD diagnosis. My pedigree has been updated to include all the new letters, and let me tell you:

I am delighted.

I mean, beyond the satisfaction of vindication, I’m actually really stoked about this. It all comes down to confirmation that all of this (*frantic random gesturing*) has a REASON and that reason is I’m wired just as differently as I’d always thought.

The sheer amount of glee and relief I’m feeling after the letter sprinkling is really neat: I hadn’t realized an actual diagnosis would come with such a sense of .. freedom? Joy? Mild cramping? I’m not sure how to react, so I’ll go with my default and kind of flap around a bit excitedly, making grandiose plans that will never come to fruition.

There’s work to do, though. I actually think that my Au side is the neatest fucking thing ever (for someone with such a bad self image I sure think I’m great), so there’s nothing there I really want to fix or CBT* out of my system. The DHD is another story: I’m looking into treatment options, because I’m tired of myself. I’m tired of fighting my own instincts to try and accomplish things. I’m tired of constantly doing 15 things at once because I can’t sit still and fucking FOCUS. I used to be able to focus like a madman. Now there are squirrels everywhere and they’re all on fire and the circus is coming to town but I still need to create this doc architecture, and it’s so much harder than it has to be.

Now that I’m in the club, is there a bumper sticker I could get? A badge, or a lanyard? I was actually hoping for a diagnostic reveal cake, but I couldn’t decide on a colour combination to convey “AuDHD, Inattentive Type” in a moist crumb with buttercream frosting.

Better batten those hatches, though: this newly minted autist wants to talk about Transformers and Eurovision. That’s a thing I get to do, apparently. How very exciting for me and my captive audience (usually the cats)!

*: There is no universe in which I live that “CBT” doesn’t mean “cock ball torture” and not “cognitive behavioural therapy”.

once upon a postcard

Posted in adventure, hello-world by

I found a stack of postcards, and I want to use them. Here’s the deal: if you want to get a fun note in the mail, fill out this form. I’ll drop some cards in the mail from wherever I happen to be. I have a lot of postcards (and a lot of stickers with my name on them) so this is my summer project. Help me amuse myself!

a large pile of novelty postcards

Travel planning for the remainder of the year is underway (starting 3 months late because Revenue Canada decided to sit on my tax return for 12 fucking weeks until it was processed) and we are doing Neat Things in Different Places. Those places have postal services. I will seek out these places and use them as intended until I run out of postcards/labels/money for stamps. Fun for the whole family! I assume. I don’t know what families do for fun, but if it’s getting random weird stuff in the mail, I gotcha.

thrift log 060625

Posted in #thriftwack by

Found a big thrift nearby that I hadn’t known about. It was full of ridiculous things, like:

the wrinkles were free

This is a Marimekko Samu-Jussi Koski shift dress from the Spring 2010 collection. It has pockets! It’s Finnish! 🇫🇮💚

did ed hardy make sweaters or did I just get patch lucky

This sweater. The tags were removed, but it’s amazing.

all day I dream about having small enough boobs to wear stuff like this

This has GOT to be a beach coverup or something. It’s obscene on my mannequin! I can’t actually wear this out of the house, but I love the colours and sleeves and just because it shows EVERY BOOB it has to be for Inside Times. Sad, busty panda.

trauma dump slash garage sale

Posted in angst, hello-world by

By my most recent calculation, I’ve been dealing with Significant Events since January ’24. Each one of the Events has left a lasting mark on me.

I earned last week’s breakdown, thank you very much.

It wasn’t all bad (just like 98% horrible), in that it seems to have cleared up a small bit of the rubble in there. I’ve been really focused on just .. doing things, instead of stalling and insisting on a detailed written action plan first. In the week since my structural collapse, I completed a bunch of really annoying errands that had been on my list for months. I’m in the midst of a benefits spending spree, booking appointments to get my front teeth fixed + an eye exam + medication refills + therapy + haircut (that one is probably out of pocket). I’m having a garage sale (in 4 days, you should come). I’m not doing any of these things particularly well and there’s still the overhanging spectre of looking for work I haven’t quite dealt with yet, but it’s a start.

Anyway. I’m finally holding a garage closet sale and selling the very last of my favourite plus sized clothing. I can’t replace any of this stuff, as it’s all from vendors who’ve gone out of business and/or just plain old styles that haven’t been reproduced, and can’t be tailored for a handful of reasons. The dresses that have literally travelled the world with me, and show up in my photos from Tokyo and Montreal and New York and everywhere in between. My very, very favourite dresses, the ones that made me feel sexy and powerful or coy and mysterious or brazen and bold or cute and non-threatening and sometimes all of those things all at once. The rest of my wardrobe is styled around those dresses; the ones that made me feel like the very best version of me.

Losing this aspect of myself is just another fun unexpected disassociation exercise I’ve been experiencing for the last year. Turns out losing enough weight to change your face, cutting off your hair, and wearing weird new clothes all at once is kinda fucking traumatic and I’m not coping very well. Toss in the loss of my job that I very much identified with (the work, not the company – fuck those guys), and well, here we are.

SO. Since these clothes don’t work for me any longer, I’m having a closet sale. The entire downstairs room is full of racks of clothes and shoes and bags. I’ve made a complicated inventory system, labels of varying degrees of fanciness, and I’m working on signage. If you’re in the neighbourhood, come on by. There’ll be snacks!

at last count, 3 capes

I promise to leave all my trauma at home.

splash damage

Posted in hello-world by

Knowing how Bluesky displays these links, I feel like I should have a relatively innocuous opening paragraph before I get to the juicier (sorry) content splashed (very sorry) within. Is this enough? Doesn’t matter: I’ll take this one on the chin (forgive me) and get right to it:

Continue reading →

boned

Posted in hello-world by

It seems like only last week I was lamenting the attack on Diversity, Equity, and Inclusion on social media. I know I’m neither American nor a federal employee, but several large, non-government companies have proven they’re willing to kiss the ring and are eliminating the programs that enabled the hiring of anyone other than cis white hetero men. That’s fiiiiine. I’m not worried at all. Why should I be? I’m only:

  • A woman
  • Queer
  • A visible (yet mysterious) minority
  • Somewhat mouthy
  • Neurodivergent
  • Disabled, as far as medical charts go
  • Past the age of fuckability
  • Newly out of work

I got laid off this morning. It was unexpected, as it always is. I’m still in shock, and the crushing reality of my failures (yes getting restructured out of a job is a personal failing) hasn’t yet hit me – but when it does, I expect to be a right fucking mess.

I don’t know what to do. Is it too early to be fatalistic about my chances of finding a new job? Normal Kimli knows she’s amazing at what she does, but Scared and Sad Kimli is at the helm and she’s got visions of government cheese.

Fuck.