The Scales Inside My Skull

 

The Scales Inside My Skull (version two)

A poem about living with AU DHD (undiagnosed)

I wake each day as a split constellation,

two stars tugging at the same sky.

ADHD my bright spark, my fire starter.

Autistic my anchor for a sea of calm.

Some days I’m 50–50,

a perfect see-saw of chaos and order.

Other days I’m 70–30,

or 60–40,

or whatever ratio my bones decide

before I even open my eyes.

I choose, and whichever part wins

becomes the “right” one—

not because it is,

but because I can’t go back

and my brain refuses to lose.

I am brilliant with money

until I’m terrible with money.

I am careful

until I’m reckless.

I am early

until I’m late.

I am loud

until I vanish.

I am every opposite at once,

a spirit level rocking from side to side,

but always finding a way

to call itself balanced.

I thrive in chaos

and crave calm.

I want order

and drown in it.

I am daring

and afraid.

I am nausea

and hunger,

joy

and ache.

I am not good or bad—

I am the argument between them.

Two gold weights

trading sides,

two voices

neither wrong,

both true.

And whatever choice I make,

I will build a world around it

until it fits,

until it works,

until it becomes the right decision

because I decided it was.

I am many things,

all at once,

and every one of them

is me.