{"version":1,"type":"rich","provider_name":"Libsyn","provider_url":"https:\/\/www.libsyn.com","height":90,"width":600,"title":"Grace & Discipline with ADHD (Part Two)","description":"originally written for Medium \u2022 Photo by Jackson Simmer on Unsplash If you know, you know. And that changes pretty much everything. \u201cSuddenly, so much of my life made so much more sense.\u201d That\u2019s the most common refrain I hear from people like me who were late-diagnosed with ADHD. In my case, it was an ongoing, bitter, semi-serious joke, because while I excelled at tests, writing, and learning of all kinds, I somehow wasn\u2019t ever able to parlay that into a secure career the way my peers seemed to. I would ask myself, over and over, as I looked at a depleted bank account or sat in traffic on the way to another job that I used to love but now felt like sandpaper in my gut: if I\u2019m so smart, why ain\u2019t I rich? Almost exactly a year ago from this writing, I got the confirmation of a possible answer to that question: because you\u2019ve had ADHD (combined type) since you were a kid, and nobody knew it. I can\u2019t blame anyone, not my teachers, not my parents, not my self, not my well-meaning friends and partners who tried a variety of techniques to help me succeed. There wasn\u2019t the science to understand what ADHD was (in truth, there still isn\u2019t, really, but at least it\u2019s getting better). Now that I know I have ADHD, what does that change about my life? Being ignorant is not a sin. Remaining ignorant, is. \u2014 Robert Heinlein \u201cWhat\u2026are you\u2026prepared\u2026to DO?\u201d \u2014 Sean Connery to Kevin Costner, The Untouchables Like many late-diagnosed ADHD folks, I channeled the one double-edged superpower that I understood: hyper-focus. I devoured the books, the podcasts, the papers, the social posts, the videos, and started writing about how I understood what I was learning (and now you\u2019re reading this article! Sing with me: \u201cIt\u2019s the CIIIRRRRRCLLLE of WRIIIIIIIIITE\u2026\u201d). That was the easy part. The hard part was \u2014 still is \u2014 that second part of the serenity prayer: accepting the things I cannot change. I have to stop pretending that my brain will work in the same way that most brains in this world work. It explains all the mishaps, mistakes, and poorly thought-out decisions that have made my life more difficult than it needed to be, but it doesn\u2019t fix them. That\u2019s up to me. Discipline means limiting my options. I hate even writing that. The cold, hard truth is that there are just some things that I see other people take for granted that I cannot do. I\u2019m going to give you the current version of the running list, but before I do, I want to head off the typical neurotypical response: oh, everybody has that happen sometimes. Yes. You\u2019re right. They do. The difference of ADHD is not in the symptoms; it is in the frequency and severity of the symptoms. Yes, everyone has diminished mental capacity when they don\u2019t get enough sleep; for someone with ADHD, trouble sleeping is more common, and the diminishment is more severe. Which is why it\u2019s at the top of the list: Things I cannot do: Skip on sleep. There\u2019s an inverse relationship between how much sleep I get and how much my ADHD manifests during my day \u2014 and yes, I\u2019m aware that sleep deprivation affects everyone, please see the above about severity. To add a layer of complication, the quality of the sleep also seems to be a factor. Skip on meds. It\u2019s not just taking them \u2014 it\u2019s the whole system of checks and reminders I have to have in place, because my brain doesn\u2019t form habits, nor can it just assume I\u2019ll remember to take them. Hence the obnoxious and insistent medical alarm on my Apple Watch, the checkbox in my daily journal for meds, and carrying a spare dose with me everywhere in my ADHD every-day carry. Skip on exercise. Again, I know: everybody needs to move. However, for most people, it\u2019s because their body needs it. Mine too, but it\u2019s become more and more clear that it\u2019s really because my brain needs it to function adequately. Buy things conveniently. I used to think that contactless payment idea, the PayPal\u2019s and the Venmo\u2019s and tap-cards were wonderful inventions \u2014 until I realized, decades too late, that they make it that much easier for my brain to create crises by making impulsive purchases. I have them, but I\u2019ve made them harder to use for myself. Use phrases like \u201cin a while\u201d, \u201csoon\u201d, or \u201clater.\u201d Time blindness is a thing. I\u2019ve learned the hard way that I really have no concept of the passage of time, so if I use those very common phrases, they really have no meaning at all. Things I have to do: Interrupt my life to make notes. I have to write things down \u2014 names, tasks, ideas, you name it \u2014 in my little field notebook, or they get lost. It\u2019s a common joke among ADHDers: The biggest lie we tell ourselves is \u201cOh, I\u2019ll remember this later.\u201d And sure, there are things on my phone that can let me conveniently take notes \u2014 but the phone is no longer a phone, remember? It\u2019s an Infernal Distractibility Sarlacc Pitt of New Shiny Squirrels, and the odds of me getting to write something down without being sidetracked are pretty slim. Put things where I can see them. I love minimalism. I love the aesthetic, I love the idea, I love even the process of cleaning and declutterring etc. But if there\u2019s something I need to remember to do \u2014 from yoga in the morning to remembering my keys to taking important papers to work \u2014 I need to have it in front of me, in my vision. This means that I need to have a certain other kind of minimalism: if you need to remember it, leave it out. Put everything else away, because it will distract you from remembering. Have reminders of time everywhere. As I write this, I\u2019m wearing my Apple Watch, I have a small hand-carved clock on my shelf in my peripheral vision, a two-foot-diameter wall clock on my wall, and I set a timer via my HomePod so that I will stop writing in time to get ready to go out to dinner. And I\u2019m still half-worried that I\u2019ll be late. I\u2019m lucky; most of the time I don\u2019t have that ADHD trait of \u201cI have an appointment later, I can\u2019t do anything until then!\u201d but I do have the reverse: I\u2019ll just write for a bit and then get ready. Nope. I\u2019ll get drawn into the writing (or whatever) in a lovely combination of hyper-focus and flow and keep telling myself \u201cjust one more thing\u201d and be late \u2014 as I often have been, throughout my life. Or worse, I\u2019ll work right up until the absolute last minute, where if everything goes right I might be able to be on time\u2026and when I\u2019m playing those odds, the house almost always wins. The House of ADHD, that is. Which brings me to the biggest discipline change of all since I got my diagnosis, the thing that, with the help of my partner I\u2019ve identified as the one factor that contributes the most to any problems I have during the day: I can\u2019t rush out of the house. I have to \u2014 have to \u2014 give myself time to prepare for wherever I\u2019m going, or I will almost always forget something. Actually, I\u2019ll adjust that to always, because the times that I don\u2019t forget some important aspect of where I\u2019m going are simply because that particular excursion didn\u2019t require as much. I wasn\u2019t prepared; I was lucky. A short but not complete list of things I have forgotten: My power adapter (for whatever device I might be bringing along). My meds. My wallet. My phone. My watch. My headphones. My keys. My teeth (yes, I have dentures). Important papers needed for whatever appointment I\u2019m heading for. My destination (yes, I\u2019ve driven entirely across town to the wrong place before remembering where I was supposed to be going). Whichever of three engraved nametags for the board or organization I\u2019m supposed to be representing at the event I\u2019m going to. My car (literally. I have jumped on my bike and headed out before realizing this was a time I was supposed to take my car). Any of those items might also have been something that I forget when leaving an event if I\u2019m not careful. I\u2019ve been lucky to have an extended support network locally of friends and family who have helped me numerous times to replace or bring the truly necessary items to me. Other times I just show up at the place and look less professional \u2014 if they know me, they might think it\u2019s a one-time thing, but if they know me, it\u2019s well, Gray\u2019s just like that. Since my profession (nonprofit fundraiser) requires making a good impression on people, that\u2019s not an ideal situation. But what we\u2019ve noticed is that if I am rushing out of the house to try to be on time, I\u2019m unprepared. My amygdala will merrily ride a white-rabbit thrill of I\u2019m late! I\u2019m late! and put all the focus on where I\u2019m going, often jumping ahead often to what I\u2019m going to be doing, and entirely ignore the getting ready side of things. Scaffolding helps. Routines help. But ADHD is still there. So there is a checklist by the door. There\u2019s a nice little \u201cADHD EDC\u201d kit I keep stocked with the things I usually need, and if I remember it, then I remember most everything else. If my partner and I are leaving at the same time, we have a verbal ritual of stating and acknowledging that the door is locked. Just last week my partner had to drop off my computer power adapter at the coffee shop where I was working prior to a meeting with the owner about a fundraiser. Luckily it\u2019s only a little out of her way to work, so I only felt mildly bad about having to ask her to do it \u2014 but if I think back to all the times I\u2019ve felt shame or remorse about being an extra burden or letting people down by not being prepared, it\u2019s a whole lot of memories. That\u2019s why I call this a discipline. I suspect it\u2019s why I have always loved coats with many pockets and backpacks and such that advertise how wonderfully organized everything can be \u2014 because that\u2019s a fantasy I have, of having everything I need exactly when I need it. Buying another backpack isn\u2019t going to fix my brain, though. I have exactly two options: Take the time to have all the stuff I need planned out in advance, or Need less stuff. I\u2019m still working on both. And in the meantime, I have a new game. Instead of try to get as much done in the time I have left, I try to get something completely done before the alarm goes off so I can actually have more time than I need to get ready. I don\u2019t want to be that person anymore who shows up \u201cjust a little late, and barely prepared.\u201d I want to become the person who always is earlier than expected, with exactly what is needed (and maybe a little more). It\u2019s a work in progress. Discipline and grace. They\u2019re both the biggest changes since I got diagnosed \u2014 and thankfully they can feed off of and reinforce each other. It\u2019s about the practice, not the destination.   Now, if you\u2019ll excuse me, I have to get ready to go\u2026     ","author_name":"ADHD Open Space Podcast","author_url":"https:\/\/adhdos.substack.com\/podcast","html":"