ADHD

I didn’t receive a diagnosis of ADHD until I was well into my thirties. As I filled out the paperwork for accommodations for my kids, I noticed that I could relate to many of the questions all too well. However, after many years of conditioning, I was pretty firmly convinced that these symptoms were a result of my innate laziness and lack of self-control. Even after filling out the official tests and many, many, online surveys, I still found myself terrified that the psychiatrist would expose me as someone who wanted the “easy” way out of taking medication.

I walked out of that appointment with a diagnosis, prescription, a rising feeling of hope that perhaps now I could finally get my shit together, and a sinking feeling of guilt that I was somehow trying to subvert the system.

It turned out that neither my hope nor my fear had an exact read on the situation.

It was pretty clear early on that I wasn’t in it to get medication. I could barely remember to take it consistently and refilling my prescription was haphazard at best. It took several tries to find the right combination of medication that didn’t make my stomach sick or my anxiety more severe.

Neither did I suddenly get my shit together. It turns out that, while I was taking a medication prescribed to improve focus, the medication did not discriminate on what exactly I would focus on. Some days, I did revel in how much more productive I was. Still, on other days, I meticulously organized my pens by color and ink style, helplessly mired in the quicksand of hyperfocus fueled by caffeine and medication.

There was one major advantage of taking medication, however, and that was getting to feel what my mind was like when it was operating more typically. Feeling the way my brain worked on medication quelled my worst fears of laziness and lack of willpower as I learned how my brain was just wired differently.

Not long after settling into a medication routine, I became pregnant and had to stop all stimulant medications. There is some debate over their safety in pregnancy, but even if they were perfectly safe, I was far too morning sick to have the jittery side effects that always accompanied my dose. As my morning sickness persisted throughout all 9 months of pregnancy, I had to operate with a brain that was very unregulated (and also tired and sick!). I couldn’t stop working so I often had to employ all sorts of different techniques to convince myself to be even just a little bit productive.

I think that “attention deficit” is a poor name for this condition because when my brain finds a certain hyperfocus, I can deeply concentrate on that one thing to the exclusion of all other things—like adequate food, water, or bathroom breaks. I like to joke with my kids that ADHD means we can’t control where our focus lands, not that we have a lack of it.

To me, this means that ADHD is more like a difficult pony to ride. Sometimes, I have the assistance of reins (in the form of medication) or alluring treats (my many productivity systems and rewards), but mostly, I have to relax and follow the movement of the animal, letting my body surf with the motion and dusting myself off when I fall from the saddle.

As I came up for air from hyper-focusing on this artwork, I was reminded of this perilous dance. My mind often feels like a pile of hectic spaghetti noodles but I can also find so much beauty in its messy depths. I owe my personal flavor of creativity to this brain that runs in leaps and bounds instead of the more focused paths that others seem to walk without trouble. It seemed like a fitting name for this work that looks a little overwhelming from far away, but under its twists and turns are a plethora of little colorful surprises.

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