A Dance Through Stories

Our story started at a time of great peril. We danced through masked crowds and curtains of uncertainty. We made our way out into a plot of land and turned it into a garden where we made fire out of little twigs of hope. And lit our path to tomorrow. 

Though I wasn’t one so bold to assume we’d still be here today, somehow I knew from the first moment, I wanted to. 

I longed for you before any confirmation you existed. And when you first held my hand, I understood the plan; in the universe’s grandest scheme, in which you and I are written in the stars. 

Perhaps that is magical thinking. Maybe it’s a dream. Yet in my waking hours, I decide each time to choose you. For I will relive every moment over and over, even the darkest nights, so long as they lead me back here. 

Dance with me through the rest of our story. We’ve only heard the beginning of our song. Listen…they’re playing it in the heavens. For us. I don’t care how many steps we miss as long as our feet find their way back to our spot. 

Here, where there is no hesitation in your arms when they wrap around me. 

30 November 2025

The ADHD Tax and How It Drains Us

Ever heard of the ADHD tax? Most ADHDers and other neurodivergent folks are well aware of this. I definite it as the extra cost associated with the consequences of being unable to adapt to a society and systems that aren’t designed for people like us. 

As someone already struggling financially, I can feel its weight more than ever. This topic is focused on the ADHD tax, in particular. It is not encompassing of other neurodivergent struggles, such as RSD (rejection sensitive dysphoria) and comorbid conditions like Bipolar Disorder, which I might talk about in a separate article. 

Key takeaways:

  • The ADHD tax costs real money
  • Executive tasks feel more overwhelming than complex tasks, leading to ADHDers paying the ADHD tax as a consequence
  • Solutions often advised by neurotypicals don’t work for neurodivergent people
  • Start by accepting neurodivergence to develop coping mechanisms that actually work

Here’s how it affects me most. 

Executive dysfunction

Most executive tasks feel overwhelming to me. Often, I can take on complex tasks, no problem. If there’s an urgent ask at work that requires heavy mental lifting, I can get to it in a snap because having ADHD has equipped me with problem-solving skills appropriate for crisis situations. Something’s on fire online? I’m your girl. Let me tweak that page in fifteen minutes or publish a well-researched full-blown blog article with 3,500 words in an hour at most—SEO-optimized. 

But task me with making my own simple breakfast every day, and you’re in for a long-winded whine that would last until dinner. Toothbrush? Daily showers? Cleaning the house at least twice a week? Forget it. You don’t want to hear about it. 

“But nobody likes housework,” you might say. That may be true, but imagine the frustration and feelings of defeat for failing to do those things magnified ten times, resulting in shame, guilt, and depression. Because apart from not having enough motivation to do executive tasks, most ADHDers want to do them perfectly when they get to do them. 

But the biggest and sharpest pain comes from the moments right before performing those tasks. 

The prospect of making a phone call to schedule an appointment, request a medication refill, or even ask a store a question could feel like an enormous burden to me. A task that takes around five minutes to complete requires at least five hours of sitting and dreading the situation before I finally decide to tackle it. 

It’s like being in a constant state of the overwhelm™. 

Here are other executive tasks that feel overwhelming: 

  • Monitoring spreadsheets
  • Regular meetings
  • Keeping a budget
  • Washing the dishes
  • Laundry
  • Cooking
  • Feeding pets
  • Keeping active/going to the gym

So, what happens?

Consequences

I pay the ADHD tax. 

  • Instead of preparing healthy and affordable meals, I often end up ordering takeout. Delivery fees have skyrocketed in recent years, and restaurants place a premium on items made available through delivery apps. 
  • Poor dental hygiene requires me to visit the dentist more often. 
  • Missing the due date for medication refills causes me to miss meds for a few days, causing emotional and mental instability, which leads to poor performance at work. 
  • Not being able to use fresh ingredients means they go bad in the fridge, and we have to shop for new ones. 
  • To ease the burden of feeding pets on time and keep them alive, I invested in an automatic feeder that dispenses cat food on schedule. 
  • Because I also work full-time and need to have regular meals and keep the house clean, I decided to invest in a dishwasher and a robot vacuum cleaner.

Not that I am making enough money to afford these things; it’s just that if I don’t make these purchases, things would be more difficult and consequently, more expensive. 

But why don’t you just…

Here’s where most neurotypicals weigh in, sometimes with good intentions, but often, from uninformed opinions. 

Why don’t you form a routine and stick to it?

Are you kidding me?! Alright, here’s the deal. ADHDers do like and need routine. In fact, some people with ADHD overcompensate by being overly organized. We keep planners, journals, calendars, and whatever the new to-do app out there is to keep on top of our day-to-day tasks. 

What’s happening? Why aren’t those working? 

What’s happening, Susan, is that again, those activities lose their novelty over time (often, a short period), and we go back to the issue of executive dysfunction. Tasks that feel repetitive and not mentally stimulating eventually become boring, preventing us from even starting the task. 

How about medication?

I am on Concerta – Methylphenidate HCL. A stimulant that increases the neurotransmitters in the prefrontal cortex to help with attention and impulse control. 

It’s true that my medication helps me stay focused. But it doesn’t help me become motivated. It all boils down to things being less shiny, not enough to capture my full attention and warrant an action. Some people say that ADHD is a poor term for the disability. It should be called motivation deficit disorder, among other things. 

In any case, yes, medication helps, but only to a degree. 

Therapy, anyone?

Read the above. 

So, what actually helps?

I’ll say this. Start by accepting the neurodivergence. This applies to both the ND and the NT people around the ND. 

Once it’s established that traditional methods to get organized, focused, and motivated don’t work for someone with ADHD, then you can start thinking of ways around it. 

But because I have ADHD and this has already gone on short of 1,000 words, I am drained, and will come back to share more about what helps later. 

Beneath the Gaslight

I like drawings with imperfect lines,

paint that goes just a little over the edges. 

I find chips in decorative craft

adorable. 

Unbalanced stitches, shaky layers, and disorganized canvases. 

Human hands are wonderful;

some are masterful

and most are unsteady—

nonetheless in constant pursuit

of beauty.

Some strokes of genius happen

by mistake

and discoveries abound

in misfortune. 


Feats such that unfeeling

virtual hands

can never hope to achieve. 

There’s no inspiration in programmed manipulations. 

No creativity 

in unthinking sets of flashing cards

that only show what one wants to see.

No toil, no heart, no virtue;

they are dead,

moved only by this virus

rapidly infecting our perceptions. 


They lie.

They take the names of objects

of ridiculous combinations

to convince themselves that they are real,

and trick us into believing

we are weak

for not going with the times.

They force our hands into the mud

in which they roll

with their stolen treasures. 

We are gaslit into thinking

our works are no better

for the very reason they are:

our toil,

our hearts,

our virtue. 


Natalia Go

7 October 2025

I Want to Look At a Piece of Technology Again and Be Filled With Awe

I want to touch a piece of machinery and feel hopeful for the future. 

I want to wake up to new discoveries and not be threatened by the ill intentions of the ones who made them. 

I want to be excited about the progress every new invention could make and not worry about it killing jobs, industries, and people. 

I want to participate in change without having to worry about my demise. 

Or the decline of my intellect and creativity. 

Every day, I wake up to this nightmare of a planet. Most of the world are suffering. The rest are concerned about overfilling their coffers. And I am tied with a chain somewhere in between to tend to my needs. 

How did we get here?

I weep for the dreams of my heroes who saw the world for what it could have become today. 

I grieve the work of the writers who imagined so much more for us and whose ideas we so blatantly ignored. Nay, opposed. Defied. Trashed. 

Where are we going?

I long for the days when we saw promise in a new device. 

We were joyful. We were hopeful. We were inspired. 

We weren’t told to shut up and not question anything new. We weren’t denied the rights to make decisions about what we accepted and rejected. 

We were included.

We evolved. 


8 August 2025

Natalia Go

I Cast My Wishes to the Timekeepers

When time it comes for us

to read our promises

in front of witnesses,

when we profess our love

with our monograms

to the tune of our march,

the lights on our faces,

though there’d be no clergy, 

no fabric or metal bonds,

your hand in mine

will be the sacred cord,

whispering gratitudes to the stars

and the goddesses of old. 


A rain of silver and white

on our heads

wrapped in the warmth

and vibrance

of every touch afore, hereon.

To behold the fondest to my heart

each step to the hours. 


To be near, around, beside, and behind,

wherever you need me

at any given moment you allow.

I cast my wishes to the timekeepers 

who favored our existence

in the same timelines,

every one of which, I am bound

to find you. 


13 July 2025

Woman Against Machine. Spirit Against Rot

Natalia Go's poem: Woman Against Machine. Spirit Against Rot

I hear the breaking of a chain

not long from the hour

when gold scratches on feather

and the hand lays its claim on the nib

once more.

Blood trickles into the shape of a flag,

forward and onward to tomorrow. 

Woman against machine. 

Spirit against rot. 


Water rises to a boil atop a cliff

and drips into a shamble of metals

long deformed.

Their soulless voices lost among the clouds—

artless copies fading into the chasm.

Their song the screeching of rusted pipes,

far less artful than parrots’.


And melt 

the long arms of the thieves 

whose spoils belonged to the gardeners,

too busy tending their creations

for so much as a grumble

even as they are robbed. 

Yet the hour comes.

Past a day, a decade, a moment…

it comes

anon.