I have always been the kid with the messy room. My mother, bless her, did her damnedest to teach me to be neat and tidy, but to no avail. I come from a beautiful home. My mother had not only a knack for decorating, but for home making in general. Our house was clean, lovely, well stocked and a great place to be. Except for my room, which always looked like a closet vomited on the floor and a pissed off bookshelf chucked its contents out of anger. I lost things, didn't turn in home work if I even knew what it was, and generally just squeaked by.
At some point in my adulthood, I realized my brain worked differently than other peoples. Where some people had no problem keeping things like bills, laundry and general life in order, it was was a ton of work for me and I rarely kept things to the standard I had in my head from growing up.
Convinced I just lacked a good "system" I attempted to solve this problem like I attack all things I am faced with; the power of information. I was a hard worker, I just needed to work smarter! I read books, joined web site, made vows and promises, I keep lists, make schedules, hire people.
Several years ago, I realized something else about myself, and THIS explains it better than anything I would be able to write. Given a name for what I struggled with helped, but it didn't change the fact I defined so many aspects of who I am by what I was constantly failing at.
Knowing my brain short circuits is no excuse, it means I have to work harder and smarter at things that come pretty naturally for other people. I HAVE to keep a list. I have developed pretty decent coping skills and now live at a just above hovel, but not fit for company, state most of the time.
Until my life gets full and things get stressful. My coping skills just can't keep up and pieces start to hit the deck. Projects are half finished, things are neglected, and I become too frazzled for my self talk to convince me that I deserve some grace. Until I had children, these things generally only affected me and sometimes Matt. Post children I watch my inability to cope hurt those I love most in the world.
I generally self-medicate with caffeine. When your brain is wired like mine, caffeine doesn't cause jitters as much as it brings clarity. I drink a ton, to the tune of 8-12 cups in a day. This allows me some ability to focus, stay on task and make it through a day. It also makes my brain have a hard time shutting down for sleep. It can be an ugly cycle.
My sweet hubby asked me to talk to my doc about this (because I was driving him just a little crazy), knowing I wasn't in an awesome place and there are some great drugs out there that are SO much better on my system than a pot of coffee. I scheduled the appointment, told my doc what it was for and was seen in office where she told me that they don't treat ADHD, which she agreed I struggled with, but she would be happy to give me some phone numbers of Psychologists who would. And she charged me $75.
My insurance sucks and no Psychologists are covered so I would be paying cash to the tune of $250 a visit to speak with these people. Oh, and none of them can see me for at least 6 weeks if they are even taking new patients at all.
Back to the coffee pot it is.
So what is the point of this post? I am not sure really. Part venting a broken system, and part a "coming out" as very few people in my life know that I am ADHD. I don't fit what most people think of when they picture a person who struggles with this, I don't fit the picture in my head either.
So here is to coffee and grace, playing the hand you are dealt with as much dignity as you can muster. And to kindness granted to those who seem like they just can't keep their shit together, as you never know the battle someone might be fighting.