Category Archives: ADHD

Welcome to all of my new friends.

The past few weeks has brought a lot of new friends to the blog, so , I’ve collated some posts that my readers have loved and I hope you’ll enjoy too.

In the next couple of days, you can expect a new post from me. Thank you for your patience and your ongoing love. You guys make me happy.

Award-winning posts

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9 Things People Say to People with ADHD

Debunking ADHD Myths   Hi there! I have neglected you!   The past few weeks have been busy and overwhelming and when the overwhelm comes, I typically go hermit. I think its a fight or flight thing. It’s definitely an ADHD thing. This brain of mine, while capable of achieving incredible things, is also incapable of managing the mundane. Things like making sure there is enough toilet paper in the house and remembering to actually look at the to-do list I naively wrote on Sunday night, convinced that this time I’d actually look at it and cross things off. Read the rest of this entry

Insensitive Things That People Say When You Have an Invisible Condition

Yesterday, I saw a woman at the grocery store. She was in a wheelchair and was struggling to manoeuvre around and between other shoppers but, with a smile on her face, she got on with her shopping. Every now and then, she would ask for assistance from a fellow shopper when something was out of reach. I observed her matter-of-fact manner and noticed that even though she was a little slower and less efficient than everyone else, she was getting it done all the same. As I watched, another woman boldly approached her and began to ask her a whole lot of questions about her wheelchair. She asked why she was in the wheelchair, for starters. She just couldn’t seem to comprehend that the wheelchair-bound woman was unable to walk. She seemed, in fact, rather irritated that this bulky wheelchair was taking up space in the aisle and interrupting the other shoppers. She then asked, bluntly, what it felt like to be unable to get up and walk. The woman in the wheelchair calmly and patiently explained that she had always been in a wheelchair and that she did the best she could to manage and that she felt she was doing just fine, thankyouverymuch. With that, the other woman sighed dramatically and said, “I could never live like that. No way could I ever be in a wheelchair…” Of course, the woman in the wheelchair was taken aback and didn’t reply, so shocked was she at this blatantly insensitive statement. Before she could catch her breath or formulate a response, the other woman went on to say, “How does your husband cope with you being in a wheelchair? It must be so hard for him to be married to you!” Okay, I lied. I’m sorry. That didn’t happen at all. There was no woman in a wheelchair. There was just me. With my invisible ADHD. The conversation was the same, though. Someone asked me to explain what ADHD feels like and after I explained my memory lapses, my time-distortion issues, my struggles with organisational anything, she replied, “Oh, I could never live like that…” and shook her head. As if my ADHD is a choice. As if I have the power to just ‘grow up get over’ all the symptoms with a little elbow grease and discipline. As though the physical make-up of my brain (the fact that my frontal lobe is smaller than a neurotypical one and is also under-stimulated) is somehow a character flaw. She then continued, “How does your husband cope with your ADHD? It must be so hard for him to be married to you!” I didn’t answer her because, frankly, I was stunned speechless. After crying onto my husband’s shoulder for the better part of an evening at the realisation that this may well be how the world at large  views me and receiving nothing but love and the assurance from him in return, I now want to say here what I wish I had the wherewithal to say that day. Let me be clear about this: I don’t choose to be disorganised, unfocused and forgetful. Yes, it’s hard to be married to me. Extremely. Know what’s harder? Being me Having ADHD means suddenly realising, with gut-wrenching panic, that I’ve missed a lunch date with a friend because four hours went by and my brain only registered a half an hour. It means that the three alarms I set to alert me that time was passing went unheard because I was hyper focused on the task at hand. It means being frustrated that yet another organisational system failed to work. It means being asked if I remembered to fetch the dry cleaning/pay the bills/go to an appointment and my stomach clenching because not only did I forget but I have no recollection at all of the entire conversation where I was asked because it fell into a memory hole. It means often feeling like I am losing my mind. It means setting alarms, making notes and writing lists and still forgetting to do something I promised. It means sinking into a Depression and wanting to never speak to anyone again for fear that I will disappoint them. It means waking up with fear burning in the pit of my stomach that I might let someone down today. It means profound guilt as I realise, at the end of the day, that despite my massive efforts, I still did let someone down. It means constantly losing track of conversations mid-way and filling in blanks. It means lying awake all night with insomnia borne from worried thoughts that swirl aimlessly around my head, demanding attention. It means constant self-flagellation. It means developing a thick skin because people regularly lose patience with me and cross me off their ‘friends’ list. Do you know what else it means? It also means I’ve had a lifetime of practice in seeing the silver lining around dark clouds. It means I have outstanding problem-solving skills and the ability to think on my feet. It means I’ll find any reason to smile and I’ll grab it energetically with both hands.It means that if you’re my friend and you accept me, warts and all, I’ll take a bullet for you. Without so much as a passing thought. It means that, as horrendous as I am at spreadsheets and calendars, I’m fabulous at painting and writing and free-thinking.It means I’m spontaneous. It means I’m generous.It means I am willing to fall down a hundred times and still get up and try again.It means I have an infinite capacity for love and forgiveness. Because I know only too well what it’s like to be shut out, judged and found lacking. I would like nothing more than to have the magical powers to ‘snap out of it’. My life would be exponentially easier, I can assure you. That’s not going to happen. My ADHD may not be physically visible to you, but it is a physical difference in my brain. It is not going to go away. No matter how irritated you are as you tell me to try harder, to write a list or to set an alarm. It isn’t a choice. If you wouldn’t tell someone in a wheelchair to just try harder to walk, to use discipline and willpower because her ‘paralysis’ is not really a ‘thing’, why do you think it’s it okay to say these things to me? My friend, it’s not okay. Invisible illnesses are far from invisible from those who live with them. Just because you can’t see ADHD, Depression, Anxiety, Chronic Fatigue Syndrome, Fibromyalgia, Chronic Myofascial Pain or Colitis (just to name a few invisible conditions) doesn’t mean they are imagined. Please show compassion, love and forgiveness for the inconvenience they cause you. I can assure you, the carriers of these conditions are not having a party at your expense. I know you remember everything with ease and are incredibly organised. For this, I applaud you loudly. Really. I can’t even fathom those superhuman skills. I, on the other hand don’t remember what’s in my diary from day to day, what’s on my to-do list or where my car keys are hiding (I swear, I put them over there!) and I know this is frustrating for you. I’m sorry for that, truly I am. On the bright side, I also never remember to put my bitch pants on.

ADHD Depression Fibromyalgia Colitis

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What I Said When My Son Asked Me To Explain The Meaning Of Life.

       

Today’s post is the second in my weekly column at BonBon Break Magazine called, “What I’ve Learned…”

What I Said When My Son Asked Me To Explain The Meaning Of Life

After a Boys Only shopping trip, Little Man and Darren arrived home, clearly up to something. Little Man disappeared into the study and came out a few minutes later holding a gift-wrapped present in his hand. “Mum, you do so much for us and nobody ever even pays you! (He was outraged.) I asked Daddy if we could buy you this present because I know it’s one of your favourite things.” He held out his hand and presented me with my gift. I unwrapped it as he bounced beside me, gleefully. Inside was a dragon fruit  – a fruit we first tasted on a holiday in Singapore and that I fell in love with. From time to time, we see dragon fruit at our local shops but I never buy it because it’s expensive and frivolous. He had seen it and decided that I deserved something expensive and frivolous. He saw me as someone who deserves recognition and a little spoiling. The enormity of this, coming from my eight year old son, totally floored me. He demanded that I cut it open right then and there and eat it. I savoured every mouthful, we enthusiastically discussed the cool colours and textures and I thoroughly enjoyed the delicious experience of sharing this treat with the kids. Later that afternoon, Little Man very solemnly and seriously requested that Darren and I go to his bedroom together at bedtime because “there are some important things we need to discuss”. I wondered what on earth was so serious in his life that it would warrant a meeting, so I nervously asked. He replied, “I want to know what life is all about… you know. Why are we alive?”

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The Naughty Spot @ BonBon Break

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Learning to tame stoned ducks.

With ADHD, ducks do not stay in rows. As an adult ADHD sufferer with severe organizational and time management issues (and by severe, I mean crippling, suffocating, chaos-causing issues), I have found myself becoming increasingly overwhelmed by the volume of housework, kids’ school organizing and personal to-dos in the past few months. In true ADHD style, I find myself dealing with a zillion unrelated to-dos by running around in circles, flapping my arms and yelling at everyone. Here’s a heads up: this method does not work. Read the rest of this entry
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