It's executive dysfunction
That is my self destruction.
Tasks that others just simply do
Are impossible to get through
Wanting to is not the question
It's not a lack of instruction
Please do not make that assumption
Do not tell me to just "push through"
It's executive dysfunction
I know there are repercussions
No need for more discussion
How to change, oh I wish I knew
Because then I wouldn't be blue
Over having this malfunction
It's executive dysfunction
I am a mother with ADHD
Overly permissive or too severe
I can never find what is in between
Routine I can never seem to adhere
Confusion is our normal way of life
The children never know what to expect
Why couldn't I be a more normal wife?
Maybe then everything could be perfect
But perfect is simply a fairy tale
This is something I easily forget
And yet I keep seeking this holy grail
This journey always causes me to sweat
I am trying to find a good middle
Finding it, though, is such a hard riddle
Scene: It is a Saturday afternoon, and I am feeling a bit off. I decide that a guided meditation would help me get centered and think more clearly. So, I go into my bedroom, sit down, and choose a track on my Calm app (I have a subscription and it’s worth every penny, but I digress)
I forgot to close the door, and as we all know, Mom sitting quietly is an invitation for questioning. My five-year-old (called Ladybug here) is no exception.
Ladybug walks up to me and asks, “Mommy, what are you doing?”
In between deep breaths and trying to keep myself centered, I try to explain the concept of meditation to her.
Me: “Mommy is taking deep breaths and slowing down.”
Ladybug: “Why are you taking deep breaths and slowing down?”
Me: “It’s to help me be calm.”
Ladybug: “Why to help you be calm, Mommy?”
Me: “So I can be a better mommy.”
I take more deep breaths while listening to the speaker’s instructions.
Ladybug: “Why be a better mommy, Mommy?”
I have to chuckle. I know I’m my own worst critic, though apparently my self-criticism tends to be more extreme than the average person's (working on that in therapy). I’ve made lots of mistakes as a parent and I try to own up to as many of them as possible. Somehow, my girls still think I’m doing okay, at least most of the time.
Ladybug climbs into my lap and rests her head on my chest. I feel her soft hair under my chin, and smile with contentment, thinking this is how the rest of my meditation will go. But as quickly as she gets on my lap, she hops off in search of a Rice Krispie treat. They’re in the pantry, easily within her reach (yes on purpose; don’t judge me)
“I’ll be right back!” she declares while running down the hall. Indeed, she does come back, and wants me to unwrap her chosen snack. I do this, again, with my eyes still closed. She climbs back onto my lap, snuggles back into my chest while eating her snack. I wrap my arms around her and rest my cheek on her hair, while still listening to my meditation which is aptly titled “Hakuna Matata”.
This entire scene unfolds in less than ten minutes.
College was another beast. I struggled. A lot. I had more than one college professor say, “You’re clearly smart, what the heck is going on?!” I had no explanation.
I started going to the college counseling center, where I found out that I had anxiety. I got talk therapy for two years, and I guess it was better than nothing. Did I mention that I got on Academic Warning not once, but TWICE?!
“Laura, you’re better than this!” I would tell myself. I would also wonder, “But...am I really better than this? Maybe I am just stupid.”
I somehow managed to graduate from college in four years with undertreated mental health issues and undiagnosed ADHD. My GPA was mediocre and I had been in academic trouble more than once, but I somehow graduated. How did I manage this? Part of it was probably extreme stubbornness and my eagerness to prove myself. The other part was possibly privilege--my parents could afford to pay my tuition and I didn’t have to worry about keeping a scholarship.
Then I got married literally the day after my college graduation. During the Recession too!
The Recession and my mediocre college performance made finding a job after graduating that much harder. I didn't have enough experience for the professional jobs (also, I don't interview well at all), but I was overqualified for jobs that didn't require a college degree. Of course, there were some people who thought I was being too picky and not trying hard enough and putting too much on my husband. That did WONDERS for my self esteem.
I finally did find a part-time job nearly a year after I graduated, only to get laid off a few months later. As luck would have it, I ended up becoming a nanny to a sweet four-year-old boy who lived in my building. This job would be a blessing in countless ways, and we're still in touch with him and his family. He's in high school now, and we affectionately refer to him as our practice child.
Despite the fact that we lived in a one-bedroom apartment and we didn't have any young kids running around (except for the little boy I watched), I struggled to keep up on chores. Every task felt insurmountable. It only got worse when I became pregnant. I never got that second trimester burst of energy that everyone talked about--I was just extremely depressed. It was during my first pregnancy that I finally started taking antidepressants, which did help.
When my first daughter was almost two years old, I decided to go back to therapy. This time, I found out I had moderate depression, severe anxiety (even while medicated), and symptoms of PTSD. I started doing EMDR, which I HIGHLY recommend. I was able to make peace with some things and I was better able to manage my depression and anxiety.
Despite the psychotherapy and antidepressants, however, I still struggled with basic daily living. Adding kids to the mix only made it harder. Housekeeping was still an unending battle and the clutter was taking over. I could have a really good day/week where I would be on top of everything, and then I would fall into a deep depression where I couldn’t do anything. Now I know that those “good” days were actually me forcing a lot of energy into being “normal”.
Parenting was also difficult, especially learning how to set and maintain reasonable behavior boundaries. I could be a fairy godmother one day and a rigid taskmaster the next. There was also dealing with kids' big emotions.
You think I have what?
My mom was the one who suggested I could have ADHD. Apparently, she brought it up more than once over the years, and I shot the idea down multiple times (I actually don’t remember this, but I’ll take her word for it). Then one night, she sent me a comic by ADHD Alien and that’s when I finally started to see it. Of course, I protested the idea at first, but after searching “women with ADHD” on Google, I looked into getting tested. I literally googled “adult ADHD testing near me” and that’s how I found the clinic where I got evaluated.
I worried that I wouldn’t be taken seriously or that I would be accused of drug seeking (since many ADHD drugs are controlled substances). I am incredibly fortunate that this was not the case for me. I was relieved when the clinician confirmed that I did indeed have inattentive ADHD.
Now what?
Just when I got my diagnosis and felt like I was figuring out how to manage my ADHD, COVID-19 happened and the world seemed to end. My husband was working out of our bedroom. I was trying to get my kids to do distance learning and keep them reasonably entertained since school and playdates were not happening. I was reminded that I definitely need quite a bit of alone time to recharge because I was getting ZERO time to myself.
Figuring out my meds during a pandemic was also lots of fun. My NP and I seem to have figured out the right medication and dosage, and now I feel like I'm in a pretty good place that way. While I know some people take breaks from their meds, I do not. I'm a mom, and never off the clock, and I experience withdrawal in the worst possible way when I don't have my medicine, and I'm not even on that high of a dose. It's just better for me to take it everyday.
I think the hardest part right now is accepting myself for who I really am and to stop trying to force myself to fit into the neurotypical mold. There's also learning how to make my life work with me and my ADHD.
In many ways, I feel as though I'm having to re-figure out who I actually am. What am I actually good at? How do I make the most of my strengths? Do I have any strengths? Oh Laura, of course you have strengths, you just need to be patient in discovering them.
Maybe writing this blog will help. As long as I can maintain some kind of consistency 😜
Hi, my name is Laura. I’m a thirtysomething mother of two and I have ADHD. This is my story *Law and Order dun dun*
Talk to me
I was born in Japan and my family moved to Texas when I was just eighteen months old. I was an energetic, almost danger-seeking toddler. At the time, my parents thought it was because I was trying to keep up with my older brothers. Now we wonder if I was a sensory seeker.
When I was three, I was still not talking (and was quite frustrated about it, apparently), but now I could actually be evaluated for this speech delay. It was eventually determined that I had suffered some hearing loss due to multiple ear infections probably caused by a condition called otitis media with an effusion. Several rounds of antibiotics helped restore my hearing and I started talking.
Because I was speech delayed, I qualified for special education services through my school district. I went to a special education preschool, and then I went to mainstream kindergarten with speech services. I had speech therapy until second grade, which was when I was placed in Resource for some subjects because I struggled in my mainstream classroom. Of course, this was all easily assumed to be because of my early speech issues rather than ADHD. It was the 90s, after all.
Although I did not have an ADHD diagnosis, I was receiving some of the same services as some kids who did have a diagnosis. While there came a point when I realized there was a stigma around going to Resource, I now realize that these classes were quite beneficial because they showed me how well I could do when I had the right kind of help.
Silence isn’t always golden
My family moved into an inner city school district the summer before I started seventh grade. By that point, I was mostly mainstreamed except for test taking. My new school district didn’t care one bit about my history, so there was zero talk of accommodations. This district was a literal testing ground for No Child Left Behind (no really, it was) and already had its own problems.
In some ways, I thought this was a blessing. I could have a fresh start. Back in my suburban district, teachers seemed to find every reason to take off points for behavior. Forgot your pencil? Points off! Didn’t get random spelling homework signed? No recess for a week! Okay, that only happened with one teacher and only one time, but you get the idea.
The new school district seemed just happy if students showed up regularly.
In this environment, I became “the quiet kid” and the teachers LOVED me. All I did was behave myself and do my work. Because of my status as the good kid, teachers were happy to help me whenever I needed it. After my sophomore year of high school, I decided I wanted to try a few advanced placement classes because my regular classes had become too easy, and I wanted to look good for college applications.
You know how my “quiet kid” label was good for my previous classes? Yeah, that was not going to fly in these supposedly college-level courses. We got graded for participating in class discussions, sometimes for as much as a test grade. No pressure here! I could have changed my mind and switched out of these classes, but I was so determined to prove myself (trauma response, anyone?)
There was also the note taking. I had a hard time paying attention to the teacher AND taking notes. How do you take notes when a teacher is talking? What do you write down? How do you decide what’s important enough to write down? These are just a few of the thoughts that went through my head when trying to take notes. Let’s just say I could never be a court stenographer.
Next up: college and beyond!
