There are times when I feel like I’m rocking this whole being-a-grown-up-thing.
I’ve got three great kids and a healthy, wonderful marriage. Loving relationships with amazing people. An extended family with whom I get along very well. I get to write and take photographs, hang out with cool people. Contribute. As a parent, I’m helping out in the classrooms for both of my school-aged kids. I’m taking evening classes to become a Girl Scout leader so I can be there for my girls in an organization that does awesome things. I’m scheduling a weekly playgroup so my toddler gets socialization and learns to not be a grabby monster. I’m starting to fulfill educational requirements to begin a whole new career when the time is right. And in between, I’m doing crafts, and calling my Mom, and flossing. I’m helping out a friend or two. I’m cleaning out the van and putting out the trash. Big, grown up stuff.
But then there is the price. For every mountain I conquer like an amazing conquering thing, there are times when I’m wallowing through the valleys, in a fog of under-performing. And I feel very much like I’m just… pretending to be a grown-up. Going through the motions. Because I can’t get AND KEEP those highs. The difference is dramatic between success and failure in my life, on a day-to-day basis.
Some cases in point: For the last few days, my kids have had few clean clothes to wear because I’m so busy that I can’t keep up with laundry. Last night, I was so busy preparing a good dinner for my family that I forgot all about my Girl Scout first aid training session and had to bolt out the door – to arrive 20 minutes late. Yesterday, I dropped my girls off at the Boys and Girls Club for their weekly swim lesson, only to learn that the session had ended the previous week.
This is how a person with an attention disorder functions. I’ve long suspected that I am among the large percentage of adults who have some version of attention disorder. It is estimated that up to 15 percent of the population world-wide suffers from some kind of attention disorder. Mine is one of hyper focus. Of not being able to moderate between extremes. I find it incredibly hard to discipline myself, to follow a routine. I go from one extreme to another. I’m either killing the plants with over-watering and love, or I’ve completely forgotten them until they are brown and stiff.
There is, at least, a hierarchy to my disorder. My kids don’t suffer as my plants do! I put my kids first on my list, so their emotional needs come first in my life. I mean this literally. They may have no clothes to wear, but I’m focusing very hard on parenting them with kindness and patience, paying special attention to ensuring that they are emotionally and intellectually prepared to face every day. For instance, this morning, my eldest spent 30 minutes NOT getting dressed. She lost computer time for a week, just because she refused to put on the [only clean pair of] jeans– the ones with sparkles on the pockets. And I was furious with her. Still, I parented well. She received a red mark on our chart. I kept my temper. I found an acceptable pair of pants and sent her out the door with a loving hug and a plan for changing how we choose clothes so that this doesn’t happen again. Because, you know, I’m a grown-up and can handle my own shit! But… my next step has to be to delegate this new change to the routine, or I will forget. And this will happen again, and I will remember and hate myself for not following through. So I now have to remember to send my husband an email so that he adds “choose clothes for the morning” to the bedtime routine with the girls. Or else it won’t get done. *sigh*
My children have reasonably good food to eat, activities planned, and I am available to them. I’m so available that my self-care suffers. My relationship with my long-suffering spouse suffers. My friends and loved ones know about this particular quirk, and for some reason they stick around. I sometimes wonder why.
I am undiagnosed, and I’m not even sure I would bother with getting a diagnosis and therapy. I know myself. I can’t read a book while parenting, for instance, because I can’t do both. I know that I have crazy focus. So when I get distracted doing something new in my life, everything else suffers. I’m all or nothing. If I begin a new exercise regimen, for instance, I can’t also keep groceries in the house and prepare meals on time because I’m doing exercise charts with my free time. Or researching a new online exercise-tracking program. Most times, I give up on the new thing so that I can maintain normalcy in areas that require my full attention. Because I can’t seem to do a little of one thing, and a little of another. I don’t seem to be programmed that way.
So, how do I function? In part, I chose a partner who complements me. We are a functional unit. It wasn’t a conscious decision to find a mate who would save my life and sanity. But it happened. He helps me moderate. I help him be spontaneous and unleashed. It works. Good thing, too, as he’s also my best friend. The only problem is that I expect too much from him. And I would like to work better solo, for my own self esteem.
So.What will happen now? Will I follow through with making changes? Will I attempt yet again to learn new skills to help me function better? And if I do so, will I keep it up? Or will I give up because it’s interfering with my kids’ lives or with the laundry? Do I add one more thing in my life to potentially fail at? Or will I just keep muddling through the valley of fog, feeling like a failure until I find the next mountain to conquer with my short-lived awesomeness?
I turn 42 in two months. Is it too late to learn some new tricks? Where do I go from here?
