Confessions of a Neurodivergent Black Girl: Shame

"Can't you do anything right?"

Shame permeates me like the sound of a church bell in the streets. It moves through my body like a snake, wrapping itself around my heart and my brain. Then it squeezes.

The pain is sudden and long lasting. I'm unable to move, unable to think straight. I have tunnel vision. When it becomes too much to bear, it feels as though my heart may burst.

I hear the question again. "Can't you do anything right?"

I don't know how to answer. I don't like questions like this.

I give an answer. The response I receive can only be likened to the rage of a roaring lioness, who'd just found her babies in the jaws of some predator.

Oh, the horrendous roar.

I'm confused. I answered the question. Isn't that what you wanted?

No, apparently I was supposed to remain silent.

It's like being in a room with 3 doors and having to find the correct one. Always. All the time. However, you only have 3 seconds to pick a door each time.

What if you don't know what to pick? What if you can't find the words? You just stand there. You look stupid. You lose.

There's that feeling again. I feel a tightness around my throat, like I'm being choked. I'm being suffocated. It's unbearable. Everything around me is going dark and it feels like I'm sinking. The heaviest weight has been placed on my chest; I'm now at the bottom of the ocean and I can't breathe.

I'm sorry I didn't take the hint. How was I supposed to know? My brain doesn't work like that.

Why do I have to spend my life guessing the meaning of things? Why can't you be direct? Why must you be so cruel?

Or what about when I was told I was so freaking stupid (said in a much harsher manner) because I didn't understand the way a question was asked?

Tears welled up in my eyes that day like buckets left on the porch during a rainstorm, only to spill over like waterfalls when you walked away. I screamed expletives so loud for someone my age, you'd think I was in the worst pain.

I was. But you wouldn't see it that way.

The ordeal was over me forgetting to pull something from the closet. God forbid a girl has ADHD.

-

Fast forward to present day. There's the feeling again. Only this time the tightness is so constricting, I can hardly breathe. Every day I'm gasping for more air, but the weight of the world has it's palm on my neck, crushing it.

Shame and guilt. The two go hand in hand. Like yin and yang. Two peas in a pod. It's hell. It's eternal, burning, never ending hell.

I'm trying to be better. I'm trying so damn hard, but it feels impossible. Everything feels impossible. There's so much darkness.

And when the darkness isn't there, it's a constant rush of adrenaline. Neverending. I feel like I can't stop. It feels like my heart is going beat right out of my chest.

And yet, I have to sit and pretend that nothing is happening.

This is my new normal.

I spend every twenty-four hours doing the same routine. In the mornings I wake up and wonder why I did. Then I use the restroom and lay back down and stare at the wall because I can't fall back asleep. I try to be productive; I clean, I look for work. I might make the important phone calls I need to make, but, sometimes I feel too ashamed. There it is again.

In the afternoons and evenings, I try and fail to maintain the few hobbies I have, but I've lost my passions. Music, reading, writing. I get lost in an endless cycle of scrolling through the brainrot we call social media until I get exhausted enough to doze off for a while. I stay up late until I go to bed for good and then I repeat it all again. It doesn't feel good to waste time that way.

There it is again. Shame.

Can't I do anything right?