So, I’ve had a blog or two in my day. Some have been public. Some have been private. Some have been really personal. Some have been really superficial. Some of my writings have attracted thousands of readers. I have other blogs that literally have never been seen. Some are old relics of my past. Others capture the continuity of my life, and I still write in them though they started years ago because I’ve made friends there and I don’t want to lose the community.
I don’t know what I want from this blog except to communicate my feelings about a particular difficulty I face in my life. I suffer from the inattentive subtype of ADHD.
I avoid talking about this a lot. It’s embarrassing. Because ADHD is the disorder du jour of my generation, there is a lot of baggage and assumption when one admits “hey, btw, I have ADHD.” Many people think it’s not real. Many people immediately think of the hyperactive subtype (which, I admit, is a really confusing thing) and assume that it only means that someone is off the walls and can’t sit still. People have little tolerance for this label anymore–they’ve known somebody who used it as a crutch for bad behavior, or they’ve known somebody who seemed fine yet claimed to “be ADD.” I cannot begrudge those perceptions, and I understand where they come from. Before I realized what I was experiencing, I had some of the same misconceptions and biases myself.
Thankfully, I am a mental health professional. I know very well what it means when I say the words “I suffer from the inattentive subtype of ADHD.” In fact, I know it so well that I diagnose this in others. I’m the one that can decide–can mark a client forever with that label, and say “You. You have ADHD. Let’s work on it together.”
The impetus for this post, though, is the urge I have to say that above all else right now, I am tired. I am tired of trying with all of my might to focus on the things that are important to me, and not being able to. I’m tired of coming up with schedule upon schedule, with back-up plan upon back-up plan, intended to help me focus and accomplish my goals and be productive, only to have those plans and schedules crumble under the weight of my heavy, heavy inadequacies. I’m tired of being disappointed in myself. I don’t want to be maudlin, here. I don’t want to portray myself as having low self esteem. But it is just a fact: when a person wants to do nothing more than learn how to focus, and that goal remains largely unattainable, he feels a level of frustration that is difficult to describe. The shame–a shame that has made me so embarrassed that I’ve broken down and wept in public–is not something easy to explain.
And that’s why I’m here. I want to talk about this. I want to give it a coherent voice, from someone who is living life successfully, but still struggles with this every single day. And I want to get better.
I will chronicle my efforts here.