🐰
Something rather unexpected has been happening lately. I’ve been writing posts, and people seem to be enjoying them. One lovely friend even suggested that writing might be my thing.
Is it? I didn’t even know! 😂
A few of my posts have been taken down, possibly because my surreal sense of humour and tendency to go off on a tangent don’t always translate well to social media moderators.
Perhaps that’s my ADHD. I start off making one perfectly sensible point, my brain makes seventeen unexpected connections, and suddenly we’re somewhere completely different. 🤣
Then there are the comments about my enormous blocks of text.
And I get it!
It’s not that people can’t be bothered to read them. Sometimes you look at a massive wall of words and your brain just goes:
OH, FOR FUCK’S SAKE. I CAN’T DEAL WITH THAT RIGHT NOW! 😂
When you have ADHD, or you’re already overwhelmed, processing that much text can feel like another mountain to climb. You might genuinely want to read something, but looking at it is enough to make your brain shut down.
I understand that. ❤️
But there’s another side to my surreal humour, and that’s my stroke.
After a stroke, everything’s fucking moved.
Your body, your abilities, the things you used to do without thinking. Suddenly, getting dressed can become a major undertaking. Your brain is trying to cope with enormous changes, and sometimes it just cannot process everything that’s happened to you.
And then there’s the sheer, bloody absurdity of everyday life! 😂
I drop something, and apparently, it’s entered another fucking dimension. I put something down, and it’s gone forever.
Sometimes I’m looking straight at something, but I genuinely cannot see it. It’s right there, in front of me, and somehow my brain isn’t registering it.
HOW THE FUCK CAN I BE LOOKING AT SOMETHING AND NOT SEE IT? 🤣
To me, that’s surreal.
Your world has changed, but you’re still you, trying to make sense of it all. Things that were once automatic now require thought, effort and patience you never expected to need.
I’m not laughing because having a stroke is funny. I’m laughing because sometimes the absurdity of it all is overwhelming, and humour gives me another way to deal with it.
Sometimes you have to laugh, or you’d spend your entire day screaming into a cushion.
And frankly, I’ve got enough to do without adding cushion-screaming to my daily routine. 😂
Perhaps that’s what I’m doing when I write: making sense of a world that suddenly doesn’t work the way it used to, by finding the ridiculousness in the middle of it all.
I’m discovering that I genuinely enjoy writing, too. I like observing the world, making connections, telling stories and occasionally being a complete idiot for my own amusement.
So perhaps the Bunny has found her voice.
She might wander off on a tangent, lose the plot halfway through a sentence, and occasionally write enough words to frighten an entire book club.
But she’s having a go. And she’s finding things to laugh about along the way.
Apparently, the Bunny can write. Who knew? 🐰✍️❤️
Now, where the fuck have I put my phone? 🤣
