By Lucy Jokiel
It’s Saturday morning and I decide to organize my closets. I discover a book I borrowed from a friend last year. On the way to call her and apologize, I remember that I forgot to pay my phone bill. Where is my checkbook? I find it at the bottom of my purse along with some blurred photos of my trip to Maui. I decide to take my camera to the shop for repair. On the way, I stop at the bookstore for some weekend reading. By the time I leave the book store, it’s 6 p.m. The camera shop is closed, my phone bill remains unpaid, and my closets are still a mess.
That was my life a few years ago, before I discovered I have adult Attention Deficit Disorder (ADD). While talking with a friend’s teenage daughter, a light bulb went on. She had almost flunked out of high school because she was always daydreaming and rarely completed assignments. A psychiatrist diagnosed her with ADD and prescribed medication. By the end of the year, she was an honor student.
I found myself thinking about my own teen years. My sister and I shared a bedroom. My side was the one with the unmade bed and clothes scattered all over the floor. My mother always scolded me for losing my lunch money and homework. My younger siblings vividly recall my taking them on a hike through the forest that ended up in our getting hopelessly lost for about seven hours.
I nearly failed to graduate from high school because I could never remember to bring clean gym clothes for my P.E. class. My report cards consistently said, “Lucy is not living up to her potential.” Looking back, I was ADD – Always Disorganized and Distractible.
I read Driven to Distraction, a book about ADD by Edward Hallowell, M.D. He said ADD is like driving in the rain with bad windshield wipers. Rather than pull over, you keep going faster. It was an epiphany. I wasn't lazy, a loser or stupid. It’s just the way my brain is wired.
I stopped driving after my inattention caused friends to tremble while riding with me. In the workplace, my ADD looks suspiciously like bad work habits. I struggle with details and have lots of big ideas that never seem to come to fruition. I hate the words “logically and methodically,” and still harbor resentment against the shrink who told me I didn’t have linear thinking.
Many creative and successful adults have ADD, according to clinical psychologist L. Martin Johnson. “They have developed coping mechanisms, such as using time management tools, and seeking help in taking care of details and completing tasks.”
Today, I no longer feel like I’m on a bobsled, careening off the track. Exercise, a balanced diet, and meditation help me stay focused. And I asked an obsessive-compulsive relative to help organize my closets.
When I forget to plug in my crock pot or make coffee without putting the grounds in the basket, I know my ADD is acting up. But sometimes, I think it’s just AAAD – Age Activated Attention Disorder – which hits most of us as we get older.
It's not true that ADDers cannot pay attention. If it's something I'm interested in, I can super focus. It was easier to learn to speak Mandarin than it is to balance my checkbook or clean my house.
Most of the time, I can laugh at my ADD symptoms. (Like the time I drove someone else’s car home after a meeting.) Just don’t ask me to pay more attention. I’m doing the best I can.
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