This post was originally written on 5 March 2015. Things have changed in many ways and that includes the people involved. Much of this was written through hurt and confusion, feelings of being broken and misunderstood. It’s not a good way to raise a family. Self doubt and insecurity can lead to a whole bunch of negative things, including how I took care of myself. And, hindsight being what it is, should have been my first priority.
So, let me bring all of this up to date. It’s 7 October 2020, five and a half years since the original post. Aside from some basic edits, the original post was left as is. New text will be in italics to differentiate then from now.
ADHD has been both a blessing and a curse in my life. While it has given me a reason for much of the negative or less than favorable events of my life, it now leaves me trying to undo many of those things that have shaped me as an individual.
‘Undo’ was not the right word here. The past can not be changed. It was more a matter of learning better techniques so that I became more efficient. ADHD can reek havoc on a person’s life if it isn’t managed. We tend to be poor with time management, we hyperfocus on those things that interest us, we procrastinate both intentionally and not, and we tend to be forgetful. While I had managed to get myself to adulthood in one piece, it was a bumpy ride. I now needed to find something that worked for motivating me in the right direction.
Good or bad, the decisions we make throughout our lives create who we are as individuals and help to define our personalities, morals, and values. Included in all of this, are the people in our lives. It is the people who come and go, our families, our friends, and even those unsavory individuals who would not have been missed, had they not show up in the first place. Sometimes it is the people closest to us that can cause the most grief. It is, in the majority of cases I’m sure, not done intentionally. It is because of their position in our lives as husbands, wives, close friends, and siblings, that they have the greatest impact on decisions that we make. It is these people that we look to when there are big decisions to make. Their thoughts and ideas carry more weight than those opinions from people we haven’t known quite so long or respect as much. As a result, their comments are sometimes hurtful.
One of the most crucial things I had to pull from all of this is that I needed to do all of these changes for me. I relied so much on making changes for other people, as a means of making up for all of the things that I had messed up through out my life. I wanted to lessen the shadow of my mistakes and shortcomings by showing these important people that I was capable of success. I really was desperate. I felt as though I’d made so many mistakes. I lost countless jobs because I couldn’t pay attention. I made it through college by the skin of my teeth (that would be 0.3 of a point and I wouldn’t have made it). My focus was all wrong because ultimately, I was trying to prove my capability to the wrong people. I’m changing that now, it’s a pretty new realization. What I have come to find out though, is that I have nothing to prove. I don’t need to change to make myself into something I’m not. I miss the woman that I was 23- years ago. She was snarky, daring, sexual, a bit defiant, much more confident, and much less afraid of failure. Failure means judgement. It was much harder to push me down and these days, especially with Covid, I’m feeling that its harder and harder to get up again.
Before I continue, let me give you some insight as to who I am emotionally. Of my mothering ability, my sister said to me when I was all of 15 years old, that she thought I was capable of raising a child even at that age. Not that I would have ever acted on this but I have been ready since that age, to be in the roll that I now am. My self esteem has always been on the low end. I think this comes as a result of the many struggles I’ve had associated with ADHD, undiagnosed until 6 years ago. I feel as though I have failed more than I have succeeded and when I do succeed, the moment is brief. My own family that I built with my husband, and the family that I have grown up in, mean more to me then the air I breathe. So it only made sense that I would want to instruct them on the dynamics of the ADHD mind so that they would be better able to help me. It was imperative that they understand the struggle that I deal with everyday so that when they wanted to give me advice, it would fit neatly into how my thought process works. It made total sense to me: if I tell them how everything works, then the information they give me is already in ADHD format.
There was one huge problem, they didn’t want to know. In my mind, this was so totally out of sync with everything that made sense to me. These are my family, why would they not want to help me in the most efficient way possible?
Mental illness has always been seen as a stigma but I don’t see my ADHD as a mental illness. The word ‘illness’ implies that there is a cure and ADHD has none. However, it can be a superpower. It can be harnessed and controlled, directed and applied. I know this. I’ve seen it with my own amazing boys. When my family didn’t want to learn this, I was crushed. At the time, I was desperate for them to understand, needed them to understand, so that they could help me better. They didn’t want to know. Their reasons are their own and trying to force them into my head was creating as many problems as I was trying to fix. I really just needed to focus on me. A horse can be led to water but you can’t make them drink. So, considering that I didn’t want to drown my entire family, I just let it go. I don’t need them to understand in order for me to feel good.
I have had elaborate conversations with them all about how I need to “just do it….”, “just spend a few hours every morning…”, “all you need to do is…”, it gives me a headache just thinking about it. When conversations like this would come up, I would launch into my spiel of how my thought process works. I thought they would be eager to know. I’d tell them how it’s not as simple as they make it sound, about what my brain is capable of processing at any one time, but it was never met with understanding. It made it sound like I was making excuses. I have no reason to make excuses.
I was often met with the wave of a hand, a dismissal of sorts, a “you don’t know what you’re talking about,” kind of wave. It’s one of those, “I don’t believe you,” kind of waves. A wave that says, “that doesn’t sound right to me, it can’t be right,” kind of waves. When you get a wave like that, just stop. The person that you’re talking to really isn’t interested in what you have to say. Stop trying to convince them. First of all, it’s very hard to convince someone of something that they don’t understand or really want to understand. Second, so many people have preconceived notions about what ADHD is (or isn’t) and how its inner workings apply. You’ll have better luck convincing an atheist about God.
Here is some background history on a sensitive issue: my husband and I designed our beautiful little cape style house, from the size of the foundation to the shingles on the roof and all that’s in between. While working on the house, I went into premature labor with our first child. He delivered at 24 weeks and 5 days gestation. I spent my weekdays living in the Providence, RI Ronald McDonald House while he continued to work on the house. On weekends, I came home and helped out. Said child turned 12 this last October.
Now, I love this house my husband built for us. I have never, ever, regretted anything about building it or disliked anything about it. I beam with immense pride when people ask about the house or complement its design. The knowledge that is stored in Will’s brain to build something so fabulous, amazes me even still today. I’ll never forget him saying, “I want to build a castle for you and our children.” And he did. Blood, sweat, and even a few tears, were shed in its construction. There hasn’t been a day when I haven’t been proud to live here. On the few nights when the boys were afraid to go to sleep, I’d tell them, “Your dad built this house, monsters can’t live here.” It was always enough for them to snuggle down in their beds and go to sleep.
A few years ago, Will was angry with me again. We had been arguing and he said that I didn’t respect this house enough to take care of it. I was floored. I was hurt deeply, couldn’t even believe that such a statement was said out loud. This house is my life. It contains the lives of three guys who make my life whole. Me, as wife and mother, am responsible for keeping the home light burning, for keeping the house looking respectful and welcoming. It was my job to stay caught up on the laundry, keep the kitchen and bathroom clean, and be able to have friends over for dinner at a moments notice. While he was upset at my lack of coordination, I felt like he was trying to make me be like his mother. I love and respect her but I will never be like her. We are very different people. She doesn’t understand me either, but that’s okay. She doesn’t need to.
Will is the person that I needed to understand the most but even to my own ears, explaining my ADHDness to him sounded like excuses. I hated it. I needed him to know how ADHD people function. I needed him to understand what executive function was and what it was responsible for. I needed him to know about serotonin and dopamine and how the lack of these things made me behave the way I do. It was poorly done and seemed to just frustrate him more. As it turns out, I really didn’t need to convince him either. I do need him to have faith in me though, faith in my ability to overcome these challenges and giving me the support that I need to get there.
One of the things I love most about Will is his simplicity. He believes in a good day’s work, finishing what he starts, and sticking things out, even when its hard. He’s sworn up and down that he’s in this for the long haul despite the occasional snap of temper, which he is totally entitled to. Trying to push this technical information on him just created more stress and frustration for him when all I really needed to do was to keep it simple stupid. He doesn’t need to understand the technicalities of it all, though I’m sure he’d understand it if he was so inclined. All he really needs to know are the basics, that I am hardwired this way, that there is a chemical imbalance that I was born with. Yes, some things with me require more patience than others, some things require more of an effort on my part and things that I deem a large project, need to be broken down. Above all else, my efforts can not, in all fairness, be compared to the likes of him or anyone else. Sometimes I just require more [insert whatever, here], time, help, consideration, whatever. It doesn’t mean that I can’t.
As I sat mulling over his comment, I remembered something my mother said to me when I was a teenager. I was likely supposed to be cleaning my room or doing something around the house that wasn’t getting done. She said, “When you have your own house, its going to be a mess…,” and so it came to pass, my own self fulfilling prophecy. That will never leave my mind.
This was one of my first seeds of doubt, a “you will never,” kind of comment. I
know she didn’t intend it that way but its hung with me all these years. She had no idea, and certainly no knowledge, how those words would affect me years later. ADHDers are not very good time keepers. Our ability to hyperfocus allows time to slip by without us even being aware. There was one day, 20+ years ago, when my supervisor pointed her fat finger in my face and said, “You’re a daydreamer,” like it was some kind of insult. That was another job that I lost because I just couldn’t keep myself focused. I worked with a good bunch of people but the monotony of the place and the speed that I had to work was a bad fit all around. Anyway, cleaning my room, or even keeping it clean from day to day, required a huge amount of effort. I learned ways around it that only made my days more difficult later on. There was nothing that could make me do it. I’d zone out for hours. Something that should have taken 15 minutes would take me hours.
As of today, its an issue I still have. In a round about way, it keeps hoards of people from gathering at my house. Unlike Will, my house is my sanctuary. Whereas he likes to have people over, I prefer the company of my family. He fully intended on having people over all the time but my clutter keeps them at bay. I’m very much an introvert and abhor people invading my space. Growing up, we never had people over and the number of family picnics we held at our house could be counted on one hand, for the simple reason that we preferred our time as a family over that of a house full of people. I have never felt truly at ease at picnics here, as our home has become the go-to place for picnic since the Johnson farm got new owners. There’s too much noise, too many people, too much alcohol, and not enough of my tribe, to make me feel at ease. While I am trying to work on a plan to organize my house better, it still comes around to making myself do it. Its a large and intimidating task that will take a herculean effort on my part, to get done.
My sister is another story. Things have gotten ugly with her on a couple different occasions. One afternoon, I was desperately trying to explain to her why I am the way that I am. She was here at my house. We were standing in my quaint kitchen with it’s white and green tile counters and maple cabinets that I had picked out myself. I was backed in a corner, literally, between the stove and sink. She kept on comparing me to her clients, she’s a recreational therapist, and there is no comparing. We are apples and oranges I said, they will heal, I will not. They can overcome their addictions, my ADHD will never go away, it can only be managed. I found my backside up against the edge of the counter, my heart was ready to break through my chest and the hair on the back of my neck was standing up. My blood pressure was rising and I was very angry. In a quiet voice I said, “You need to leave.” But she kept on talking. A little bit louder now, “You need to go home.” She didn’t leave, didn’t respect my wishes, but the rest of her stay until the next afternoon, was strained.
My relationship with my sister has changed, even since this happened. On that awful day, she was unable to accept what I was telling her, even though what I was telling her was all factual. It was based on my own research and experience. She didn’t know anything about ADHD or the science behind it. She insisted on lumping me in with her clients and its not even remotely the same.
For years, I’ve wished that my sister and I were just a year closer in age. I feel like we would have had a chance to be better friends. Social media may have helped too, because by the time I started high school, she was starting college. When I was starting college, she had already moved out and was living more than an hour from us. The summer I was done with college, I married and moved across country. I don’t ever remember talking to her while I was in Texas. I’m sure I must have but it wasn’t often. I feel like I lost so much and that our relationship is forever changed because of it.
My sister and I were vastly different people back then but not much has changed. She was the honors student and MVP of her volleyball team, I was the one struggling to keep a C average and was riding the rail trails in Stephentown on the back my boyfriend’s four wheeler. Way back then, it created a lot of questions because I knew that I wasn’t capable of doing what she did, I just never knew why. It took a huge effort on the part of my parents just to keep me on an even keel. I know my sister had her own demons, as we all do, and a certain amount of sibling rivalry is to be expected, but I knew all along, that I would never accomplish what she did.
Even as we got older, some of our values differed. Now that we both had families, the things that we each thought important, were different. Discussions with her regarding my ADHDness have always caused me stress and have on occasion, been hostile. She’s one of those people who has made assumptions regarding ADHD, believing that its the same from person to person and it totally isn’t. I’ve given up on any of those conversations with her because its not something that I think will ever change. I need to try and preserve what we have. But again, we have evolved as sisters, and I’m not sure where we’re headed.
My dad has become my go-to guy. When I have issues relating to my ADHD, I call him. We’ve had lots of conversations, a few of them pushing an hour long. He understands better than most, partly because we think he has it too. He’s read tons of info which often gets passed on to me. While I don’t always remember to read it, I know its all there waiting for me.
My husband continues to be my biggest challenge. He says he understands what it is but he isn’t any more accepting of my different way of thinking. We often end up in a rut, both wanting the other to be something other than what we are. While I believe that’s its easier for him to be more flexible with me, he’s feeling cheated because he works all day and comes home to find out that I really haven’t done much, according to his way of doing things. “I can do in a couple hours what it takes you all day to do.” Thanks for the reminder.
This is probably the biggest challenge. ADHD is difficult for those who don’t understand how it works or know anyone who has it. This challenge has gotten better for us. While he still isn’t sure on the how and why, he accepts that there are challenges that I will always have and that sometimes, I have to figure out how to do things in my own way, a way compatible with my ADHD.
There have been days when I feel as though he is lost to me. I often feel that I will never meet his expectations. I’ve been this way since at lease the second or third grade when my parents started noticing symptoms they didn’t understand. How much time do I have to figure this all out? How consistent do I have to be in order to redeem myself? How much is good enough? The large chasms in our relationship where we seem to just exist together, are frequent. He tolerates whatever it is I’m doing, or not doing as the case may be, and I try to work through the void that has been left in his wake. I have piles of reading that give ideas and plans but he gets frustrated when things don’t work and he doesn’t like reading. I want him to come to counseling with me but its always an infringement on his time and paycheck, even if its only an hour per month. Here, the little voice in my head says, he doesn’t think you are worth the time. Someone said to me, when I voiced this out loud, that maybe he is afraid. He may be worried about being thrown under the proverbial bus, worried that maybe he’ll be judged. My initial reaction is no, that’s not like him at all. I just can’t imagine him being afraid of anything. That being said, he is like most men and does not discuss his feelings with me. He would rather slink away and brood, letting hurt fester until at some point, it blows, widening the already substantial chasm between us. While I hate being on the receiving end of his knife-like sarcasm, I’d rather he let it out. Better out than in, right? By going to counseling with me, he has a place to let it out where he won’t be judged. I desperately need his help and this is such an easy thing to do, as far as making time. Leave work a half hour early, join me for an hour session 2 times per month. Get things out. Work with a different clinician who has different ideas. Help us make a game plan for us and for the boys. What could it hurt? How much is “fixing” me worth?
So much of this has changed. I no longer feel the chasm that I once did. After 5 years, he as agreed to go back to my clinician with me. This time, rather than going in with something to prove, I feel I will be able to show him what I’ve learned. While our discussions do get loud on occasion, I’m better at choosing my words carefully in an effort to not put him on the defensive. I know that I can be difficult to live with and I’m very much aware that I do not, as yet, have as much control over my ADHD as I would like. Part of this was that I’ve had the wrong mindset for so long. One of the things that many ADHDers do is look for approval. We have a tendency to make a lot of mistakes until we learn how to put the reins on it. It wasn’t until I got into counseling that I realized this has been a factor for most of my life. The need to know that I’m doing something right for a change feels ingrained in my cells. Had I been diagnosed in elementary school, I’m not sure I’d be where I am now.
Fate has brought me to where I am today, in the here and now, reaching back in time to the old me, 23 years ago, when I was a bit more confident and secure. The plan is to merge her with the me today, a mom, wife, lover, friend, daughter and sister, and hoping that I end up with a blend of the two. However my decisions were made all those years ago, it got me to where I am now. I really do live an ideal life. For 18 years, I’ve been a stay at home mom, taking care of my boys. Not too many people can say that they were able to do that. My husband has worked to exhaustion on more than a few days and sometimes there were days we waited to pay bills or had to wait for grocery shopping because he was waiting on a check, but I don’t regret even a single day. He built us our little castle on the hill and he’s always provided for us. Our kids learned to value our time together instead of the things that we could or couldn’t buy. Instead of providing my kids with stuff, we focused on what they did have, two parents, one always home, dinner together every night, consistency and routines. It wasn’t always easy but I never truly felt that I’ve lacked for anything.
My ADHD issues are my own. All I ask for is understanding and acceptance. Don’t tell me what I should be doing or not doing because I’m pretty sure, most folks don’t have a clue. I spent years feeling broken because I couldn’t make changes that I felt I was supposed to be making and I feel as though I’ve wasted a lot of time. I’ve gotten away from that and have started on a new venture. I will introduce the old me to the new me and we will dance into the future together. I am young and capable, determined and stubborn. I’m ready to put me at the head of line and I’m ready to make my ADHD carry its own weight.
So these people, these are the biggest, most important ones. They make my world go round. Now, my handsome boys can be added to that list, too. While my youngest seems more concerned with his next game of Minecraft, my oldest is grasping some of the issues I have and helps out on occasion. He is mature beyond his age and I hope that stays with him. While I’m not sure about this rollercoaster ride with my hubby, I can say for now that we need to find a happy medium, something that works for both of us. In the heat of the moment, that is hard to think, much less say. If he’s willing to work without pointing fingers, I am too.
My boys, now nearly 15 and 18, are more than I could ever have hoped for. Jake is at his first year of college and Eli is a sophomore at a tech high school learning about electrical engineering. Through my counseling, I’ve learned how to communicate better and take credit for those things that I’ve accomplished. Will and I now have productive conversations. My farm boy is determined to do whatever it takes to iron out the wrinkles and he’s done so much already. The end of February will mark 20 years of us being together. I really and truly believe that positive change is coming for me and all that I hold dear. I’ve got new direction and a new bit of confidence that is burning like a small ember at my core. It just needs the right fuel.
Shapiro, Joan, and Freed, Jeffrey. 4 Weeks To An Organized Life With AD/HD. United States, Taylor Trade Publishing, 2007.
Aging With Grace 