Some weeks hit harder than others. If you know, you know.
Regulating emotions when you're neurodivergent isn't about mood swings or being dramatic — it's about trying to keep your footing when the ground keeps changing shape underneath you. It’s about knowing you're probably overthinking it but also knowing you can’t not overthink it. It’s about trying to be understood without the energy to explain.
This week? Yeah. One of those.
And there’s no clever fix. No “hack.” No magic moment of clarity where it all aligns. There’s only the work. The art. The camera. The quiet resolve to keep making something, anything, even when you’re unsure what the hell you’re doing it for. Because in those moments — especially in those moments — creating something becomes everything.
So I keep going. A little blind. A little tired. But still going. Even if I have to keep wiping my eyes between shots.
It’s not romantic. It’s just real.