In the little over 3(?) years that this site has been in existence, there has been one single constant: inconsistency. It started as a place for me to hone my writing because, if you’ve been following, I was going to write a book (remember?). Then it became somewhat of a place of self reflection for me. This is kind of where it is now and where I plan for it to stay. At some point, I decided I wanted to build something to support mental health, and I launched a website called The Pause Project where I wrote one introductory post and nothing more. It turns out starting anything with nothing more than a vague idea of what you want to do with it isn’t a very practical idea. The frustrating thing is that I embarked on both these adventures loudly, and then when the novelty wore off, that was that. I quit silently.

This pattern of picking up interests, jumping in with both feet, and then abandoning them almost as quickly is not new for me. I have never been one for continuity. I latch on to a hobby, learn everything there is to learn about it, buy everything there is to need for it, and put it aside within a couple of months. As an adult, I have never lived in a house for longer than 5 years. I have never worked at the same place for more than 5 years. Every time I have an idea of what I want to do next by way of careers, I talk myself out of pursuing it for fear that I’m going to lose interest and either leave and disappoint people, or stay out of obligation and be bored for eternity (which sounds even worse than disappointing people).

I get that this sounds like I’m unreliable; that I have no grit, but that isn’t really true. Because I’m so afraid of dropping the ball, I obsess about my obligations and make sure I honor my commitments to people, even if it means delivering the bare minimum at the last possible minute because I was paralyzed until it became time sensitive. Because I know I already tend to come across as flaky, I am an exceptionally hard worker. I am capable of seeing things through, but I burnout quickly, and have a really difficult time holding myself accountable. I think that’s why I’ve done ok with parenting – it’s not me I would be letting down, it’s someone else’s life I’m accountable for.

About 6 years ago, my psychiatrist asked if anyone had ever suggested to me that I might have ADHD. I just laughed. I was there for an anxiety prescription refill and assumed I must have just come across as a little scattered that day or something. As she started asking questions, I started relating more and more to what she was saying. By the end of the appointment, I had a new diagnosis to go with the GAD and the MDD: ADHD Inattentive/Distracted type. My head was swimming. Two of my kids had ADHD diagnoses (the third would get his at 21), but my characteristics weren’t like theirs. One of them is Inattentive/Distracted, but it’s partnered with ASD, and the other is combination type – heavy on the H. My experience was unique to what theirs had been. I didn’t pursue medication at that point, but I certainly had a lot to think about. After a couple of years, I asked if medication was practical for a 40 year old adult. My thought was that since I had made it that far in life without it, was there any point in it? What would it really help?

The answer was a lot. In the year I was medicated before I left teaching, my lesson plans were detailed and clear. Maybe even more impressive, I had lesson plans. Before medication there was a fair amount of winging it. I became capable of participating in a conversation without taking a handful of tangents before sheepishly asking what the original question was. My overall productivity went up, and I didn’t feel like I was constantly drowning all the time.

What the medication didn’t help with, is the love it and leave it behavior illustrated above. The need for novelty in an activity is still very real. And as much as I still love to write and hope to be published someday, and as strongly as I still feel about supporting mental health, I have had to accept that turning those interests into some sort of a career isn’t practical for me. I need to quit trying to chase the perfect opportunity where I’m going to love every day, and be thankful that I have the privilege to just have hobbies.

Now to the anti-climactic announcement. Of the hobbies that have come and gone, one that has been pretty constant is creating nice spaces. When I was a kid, I would constantly redecorate my bedroom (looking back, that flag is pretty red). I would ask for bedding and decor for holidays, repaint, and rearrange furniture so that it was an entirely new space. As an adult, I have done the same with nearly every house I’ve lived in. I like spaces with personality in the colors and accessories, and my spaces have historically done a pretty good job reflecting me. About a decade ago, I took my decorating interests outdoors and started gardening. My backyard at the time was a perfect canvas for planting any and everything I could possibly find to put in the ground. With the help of my mother-in-law’s expertise, I was able to create a garden that was not only lovely to look at, but provided a good amount of the produce we ate.

Given that this hobby of creating nice spaces has lasted more than 10 minutes combined with the endless list of projects that came with my current house, I have decided to start a blog independent of this one to document the progress. Make Something Pretty will have before and after photos, descriptions, and any anecdotal stories about all the projects – gardening, chickens (and maybe goats in the future?), The Shed, and any projects inside the house (of which there are many, but it’s spring so they’ll have to wait). If any of this is of any interest, I’d be honored if you gave it a follow. Who knows – maybe I’ll stick with it for a minute.

In the meantime, this site will remain to be a place of personal growth and reflection for me. I’ll still be posting here practicing being vulnerable and authentic. I hope to tackle some topics that might be a little bit tough, at least for me, if I can find the courage. I hope the few of you that currently read my ramblings here will continue to do so.