What I’ve been thinking about

ADHD, late adult diagnosis, trauma, writing.. Having needs, being vulnerable and honest. I’ve felt ‘selfish. I question myself. The front row, I felt, would restore and reset my body

Having needs

Recently, on a plane, I booked a front row seat.

(This feels lavish and unacceptable, in many ways. A lifetime of society’s shame.

I, also, loved it!)

Just writing those words, I feel ashamed and can feel my insides seat-squirming.

Not First Class, Business Class or any of that.

It was on a (fairly) budget airline and the seat was there to give me leg room.

Restless leg syndrome was a diagnosis that I’d had, years before the ADHD assessment.

The ADHD assessment which, finally, came at forty.

‘Calm down, Tara!’

(this felt so shaming. As if my movements, my caring, my excitement and general personality were such a ‘problem’)

About ADHD and trauma tax

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The jerking, (stimming and self-soothing) limbs are a part of the ADHD, I’m sure, but the restless legs diagnosis was made at a sleep clinic years before.

I also have issues with settling at night and with an overactive, whirring, brain and cautious, nervous body. I think many factors, including my neurodivergence, play into this.

Jiggling my legs around (whether asleep or not), I’d feel frustrated with myself before knowing (so much shame, and a diagnosis, psychologically, has helped so much*) and feel I wanted to be ‘still’, but couldn’t. Peaceful was just ‘not for me’.

Not settling (especially in a sleep clinic - setting overnight, with eyes on me and records being taken!) led to so many more problems - Both physical and mental exhaustion, time at night for rumination, feeling stuck in flight mode or a, sort-of, half-functional, freeze and not being any use to myself during the day.

But, having so much longing!

Ideas, passion, caring.

(*in terms of the relationship with myself, validation and self-compassion, for past me in particular)

Photo by Marra on Unsplash

My legs. They move -

An itch you can’t scratch

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Move and soothe for, eyes-closed, comfort

Stillness, and quiet, whilst standing can still feel like an unobtainable activity.

Or lack of activity!

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There aren’t moments of not thinking (and not moving), if stood on the spot.

It’s constant.

Queue-wise, sitting in an area close to a line (then re-entering it, at the last minute) rather than standing, would be the dream for me.

Otherwise I wriggle and move.

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And a high stool, ohh that would be the ultimate.

Now you’re really turning the sensory, weightlessness-dreaming, parts of me on!

Photo by Ruslan Bardash on Unsplash

Who doesn’t love a high stool?!

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In the bank or post office, I never feel I could take a chair up, as there are often elderly with mobility issues, alongside me.

I look inpatient, but it’s not that.

I know I will wait in these scenarios.

Happy to.

Yes, I’d like to tick the box and get the task done as soon as possible, but I do realise (logically) that this cannot be immediate.

In the body, I’ve got this excess, what feels-like, nervous energy, (that I harness and manage in a slightly better way now). It’s there. Moving through the legs.

Also, why would you stand still for ages (?!), in my mind.

What’s life, if it’s not for movement? Or sitting, cross-legged?!

I’m not really sporty. Am not a runner or anything of that sort, but..

there’s moving

OR sitting down (legs crossed, ideally).

There is NO in between!

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The plane..

(I asked, and was granted, permission to put my leg up like this, as the door was directly in front of me.

I felt a little foolish. But, it felt good.

Once I knew I could I didn’t really need to for more than a couple of minutes.

I had the wireless headphones in and listened to my music.

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How dare I want something, though?

I didn’t want to create a ‘disturbance’.

As if the ‘adults’ around me might think I was being ‘unreasonable’

Spoiler: I’m an adult!)

Photo by Sacha Verheij on Unsplash

Fly-away legs, needing resistance

Back to the plane..

On the away journey, I didn’t purchase the seat with extra leg room.

However, on the way back I figured it might be better.

I splurged, in my eyes (I definitely do that - the ADHD, you know) but, I am now also much more accepting of paying for, and doing things, that will make my life easier. Help my soul.

Even when I haven’t got lots of money to spare.

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My spending is on what sparks joy and what can practically, make me feel calmer and more serene (hopefully!)

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By the return, Homebound, journey..

Booked in advance.

I would have been people-ing (with wonderful humans), whilst away and I knew I might be tired. More ‘animated’, in others eyes - and wriggly.

I booked the seat a long while before travelling, as I don’t want to keep moving my legs. Crossing them, uncrossing.

And not just for me.

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Accidentally hitting the back of the seat in front would make me feel awful - and put further pressure on my, by-then, struggling body, to remain still.

I just can’t.

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Guilt.

See, I feel I almost have to justify why I felt it acceptable to purchase that seat.

I’d previously booked a seat with slightly more legroom on a flight, with a different airline, and then been moved for a family with a child. And I felt such shame.

So small.

And uncomfortable.

Misunderstood.

(Also, very aware of other’s needs and not wanting to take the seat from another person).

The way that I was told, or asked (but told) to move, had felt a little shaming, although I understand that cabin crew are in difficult positions and do a great job.

I had been, largely, happy to give the seat up for a child and realise that they are wanting to look out for everyone on the plane and their needs. I could, never, not give the space up and feel comfortable and relaxed afterwards.

Plus, I’d booked the seat unsure of how I’d feel day-to-day and, exactly, what the layout would be like.

I felt OK.

Just shamed.

And the seat I ended up in was fine.

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I’m a smiley, single traveller and relatively young-looking woman. There could be judgement, and assumption, from some.

Why does she want that seat?

Who does she think she is?

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Well, actually, a person who cares about others and wants everybody to be happy and safe. I don’t want to take that seat from anybody else who needs it.

Photo by chaitanya pillala on Unsplash

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My need might be invisible, but I didn’t just take, and pay for, the space because I ‘fancied it’. There were reasons and it was something that meant a lot to me.

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Doing something like that, in recent years, has been a sign of me building self-worth and not abandoning my needs. Having more understanding of myself and who I am.

Plus, I’ve had these ‘assertive’ (for me) moments when I’ve booked what I’ve felt I’ve needed

(I am not saying I need more than anyone else).

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At first, this felt reckless, almost, but I’ve also been proud of myself (and drenched in the usual self-doubt).

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It wasn’t an unreasonable thing to do. It’s just that I haven’t lived in a world where me booking a seat with no one immediately next to me (so that I can cross my legs) or with extra leg room, for crossing, uncrossing at the knee and positioning, felt allowed. Me wanting to settle (even though I might not completely on a flight) and having to fight my body to not move in the same intense way, would have felt like an unusual request.

Something that was self-indulgent.

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The constant urge to move has felt physically painful, over the years.

And is exhausting.

I worried that someone with children might need the seat.

It was one seat alone - the other two next to it taken, however.

The music, the space for my legs to settle - my light, my food. My joy, in needing and in booking something that has met those needs.

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As I sat in my assigned seat, I felt indulgent. The couple next to me seemed financially more secure (of course, that’s a judgement, and, perhaps, I was wrong) and they seemed confident in their worth and place in the world.

They were deserving of space. And life.

Photo by Alex Shute on Unsplash

You are worthy. I am worthy.

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I’m not talking front row seats

I mean all space. Any space.

Being in the world.

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I’ve always felt a little unworthy of that, somehow.

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It is acceptable for me to have needs.

Slowly, I will get there and it will sink in.

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Children ‘playing’ at grown up life

Not worthy. Not a proper adult.

Photo by TEAcreativelife │ Soo Chung on Unsplash

I felt like a ‘fake’.

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Those sat around me on the plane felt like ‘proper’, responsible adults.

I half-expected them to judge me (don’t think they did) and, deep down, was seeking their approval.

What, even, for?

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It can be hard from a position of self-doubt.

So many years of severe self-loathing.

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I often feel unworthy of so much that I do.

Background of image credit: Canva

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But I am here.

I exist.

I have value.

We are all worthy.

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tarastarpoetry.com

A hard surface to push my feet against.. the bounce, the pushback.

The soothe.

Not feeling ‘good enough’

What am I constantly trying to prove?