Brown liquid in a green cup. I brought this cup from a fellow queer potter friend at the Queer Made Weekend in Mumbai. Mumbai, that is where I sit everyday while I have this brown liquid, my coffee. My friend believes in Camus’ work quite a bit. I am still trying to grapple with Camus’ absurdism while living with my own Nihilism. Working at the Queer Made Weekend as a volunteer was an experience that made me believe in this absurdism a little more.
Two days of explosive, massive queerness! The day began with running around, ensuring that the venue, our canvas, was ready for the influx of people. Like vibrant hues in a palette, the people were the soul of the event; the event, a work of art. The day ended with conversations with new friends, screaming along to Lady Gaga with old friends and having the warmest meals in the coolest downpour. What more could I ask for? I love working at queer events. I love working for causes I believe in. I love working with people who believe in me. I love working, I’m a workaholic.
I start typing on my laptop, the liquid stays the same; the tiny green cup, though, is replaced with a tall black mug today. My mother gifted it to me on my birthday. The cup is pitch black with a few orange engravings saying “Coffee break”. Coffee has never been about a “break” to me. As if I completely know what break means. I do not know how to relax, but God! I am trying so hard to learn how to take healthy breaks. “Isn’t it funny? Isn’t it counterintuitive to try hard? To learn how to take breaks?” I think to myself and then take another sip of my coffee. I used to have 2 energy drinks a day and at least 2 cups of coffee a day, until I crashed. I don’t even like the taste of coffee anymore, but that’s not why I have coffee anyway. As a workaholic I want to get so much done in so little time, as someone with ADHD, my brain simply refuses to cooperate. That’s where coffee comes in, my elixir. Killing all brain fog, making me believe in life again, colouring my day with yellow and green. But at what cost? I can’t breathe.
My ADHD is like a beautiful gown that I can’t take off; on special occasions it makes me shine, but wearing it everyday can be very inconvenient. Being neurodivergent makes me unique, I can solve problems in creative ways, I can easily come up with out-of-the-box ideas and if a subject really interests me, I can hyperfocus and devour any related task, within half the stipulated time. But it’s not all shiny. If I’m not interested in a task, I get distracted very easily and the time blindness that comes with ADHD doesn’t help. Because my brain has lower dopamine, it is hard for me to begin a task and stay on track unless I am hyper focused. Coffee helps me stay focussed, helps me blend in with neurotypicals, and allows me to function like the workaholic I am. There is a study that says more than 30% of workaholics meet the criteria for ADHD. “Is my ADHD the cause of my workaholism?” I wonder. I take another sip of the brown liquid, it’s 2am but I am hyper focused, I can’t stop until I finish writing.
I learnt about rest from my two queer designer friends. They intrigue me so much. Their brain so creative, their hands so adept, their work ethics absolutely banger, their procrastination though, off the charts. They don’t take breaks from work, they work in between their breaks and they somehow end up creating such beautiful art; I am always in awe.
I got to work at the art table during Queer Made Weekend. At the art table, we learnt how to make stamps and got to colour some printed sheets. I usually have a hard time at big events because I get overstimulated very easily. The loud sounds and never-ending group conversations that initially entice me, easily become overbearing thanks to my ADHD. Colouring at the art table, made it facile to overcome these barriers that come with my neurodivergence. At the table, I had very interesting conversations with strangers without having to take my eyes off of my colouring sheet. The melodious, but loud performances became like the background music I listen to when I need to hyperfocus. I was able to be in my zone, without feeling alienated, without having to mask. The art table provided me with a space, where I could work but also feel rested. Art can provide me with a space that allows me to be productive while also helping me stay grounded; this revelation has gotten me closer to finding out “what qualifies as rest?”
The definition of “rest” varies from person to person. My neurodivergent brain is wired differently and hence, what counts as rest for me, might not be the same for my neurotypical mates. Everyday I am learning more about myself, more about how to rest without feeling anxious. I have a long way to go, but I have realised that maybe, I don’t need to have copious amounts of coffee just so my neurodivergent brain cooperates. Maybe, my self-worth isn’t based on how productive I am. Maybe, I should have a little rest. A little queer rest.
