I would like to thank Blogger for selecting my column as a Blog of Note . I am thrilled to find so many like minded individuals making the comments section an intellectual treat. Curse you! I haven't been able to get anything done for a whole week. One of the comments from last week's column was a terse reprimand by a woman (I assume) who urged me to not think so much and do instead. Ignoring the fact that her short comment judged my life by only the words of a humorous column I write each week, she also showed a lack of understanding of the AD/HD mind. Not think so much? If there is any one defining aspect of AD/HD it is the lack of contemplative thought before action is taken. We are masters of the instantaneous impulse. Take today's subject matter for an example. There you are, grieving family members around you, the organ plays in the background, and you've got this really funny joke to tell. Happen to you? No, me neither, but I do know a guy who appa...
I've been wondering how to tackle today's column since I'm experiencing what I call the "slow tick". Whereas most people think of flailing arms and jerking necks when the word "tic" comes to mind, slow ticks are like being played in slow motion. There is an odd disconnect in my mind as I am aware of what to say in realtime but my mouth has a hard time keeping up. Walking becomes fun as well. Brain: Shift to the right. Let's avoid that wall. Me: Wha? Brain: Shift! Shift! Me: The wall? Boof! It's not quite unlike wading through jello. I can see where I need to go but the world is all woogily and I'm unable to get through it with any manner of celerity. But get there I do. I refuse help whenever possible. I'll be darned and knitted if I'm going to let this stupid disability get in my way. Don't be fooled by my bravado. The disability gets in the way all the time. Like this morning as my sweet four year old tried to help me ...
Two nights ago I asked my thirteen year old daughter for help. I told her I needed her to get me two things from upstairs, but when she asked what they were my mind went blank. I stood there and wrestled with my thoughts to remember what the heck I needed her to get. Soon the neurons in my mind recalled each other's location and I remembered what items I needed, but when I made sure I had her attention I forgot them again so quickly I didn't have a chance to say what they were. She just laughed and laughed. I could have felt frustrated. I certainly felt sheepish, but instead I laughed along with her. I mention this only so you know what type of brain we're working with here when I tell you that last week a reader named Bekah asked me for advice . She shared with me how frustrated she felt when her son, who has ADHD , became frustrated whenever he encountered problems. She wanted to know what she could do to help him. I believe the working theory was that since I had AD/HD I...
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