Let’s Do This Thing

Anyone else ever have to be bullied into doing something they wanted to do anyway?

If you have ADHD like me, you probably know what I’m talking about.

I’ve wanted to start a blog for a long time. Specifically, I’ve wanted to start a blog dealing with being a neurodivergent mom to neurodiverse kids. I’ve agonized over ideas, written posts I never published anywhere, held imaginary arguments with imaginary readers who had issues with my hypothetical posts. It wasn’t until recently that my husband and I had a talk about my dreams and the pathway to achieving them. And, could you believe it? He had the absolute audacity to point out that in order to achieve those dreams, I had to actually do something about them. The. Nerve.

So, once the initial knee jerk response to avoid doing anything anyone else wants me to do passed, I was forced to really sit with those words and admit that he was right. Of course he was. If I wanted any of my closely held dreams to come true—starting a blog, becoming a published author—then I had to actively work toward achieving those dreams. But, once I acknowledged that fact, even just to myself, it wasn’t simply a matter of charging full speed ahead. My brain helpfully pointed out all of the reasons this was a failure waiting to happen.

Why would I think that, you might ask? I’ll go ahead and assume you mean other than the fact that my brain is a giant asshole sometimes and break it down for you.

In one corner, there’s the ADHD. Now, there’s some people out there who will tell you that ADHD is a superpower. And, sometimes, it can be. When I’m in hyperfocus mode, I can zero in on a task for hours. Though, that often times comes with its own set of drawbacks—such as forgetting to eat and other such inconvenient necessities. That’s a whole other rant though, so I digress.

While some aspects of ADHD can be helpful at times, more often than not, it’s an overwhelming bag of suck that life just constantly beats you over the head with. For one thing, when I’m not in hyperfocus superhero mode, it is virtually impossible to stay on task. As much as I love writing—and get a serious dopamine hit from getting that one tricky sentence just right—I still often find myself spiraling out on random side quests for absolutely no reason.

Let me tweak this sentence turns into Googling, what’s a good way to describe rain. Which turns into ‘I really liked how that one author described it in that one book’. Which turns into ‘I wonder if that author’s new book came out yet’. Which turns into Googling said author’s release schedule. Which reminds me that I meant to reorganize my book shelves. Which is how I find myself four hours later with thirty-seven open browser tabs, piles of books on the floor, half the contents my office closet stacked on my desk, and a half-finished sentence still staring at me from the abandoned document on my computer.

It’s like the most personal and frustrating version of that book If you Give a Moose a Muffin, only it’s anyone’s guess if I’m ever going to circle back around to the whole muffin thing.

And for all those neurotypical people who are thinking, ‘It’s all about self-discipline! You just have to focus!’, well gee, I never thought of that. You mean, all this time, all I had to do was focus?! My whole life is a lie!

But seriously, do not come for me with that. My medication and I will fight you.

Then, there is my ever-present enemy—executive dysfunction. And for anyone who, like me prior to my diagnosis, has no idea what that is, let me explain. Executive dysfunction is basically the petty little troll who lives inside your brain and makes it impossible to start tasks, no matter how easy or how necessary they might be. The promised dopamine hit from said task must be big enough to smack down that evil little hobgoblin. And, let’s be honest here, folks, laundry doesn’t really scream of fun or excitement.

Or, hey, maybe it does to you, and that’s okay! And, if it does speak to you that way, my overflowing hamper and I want to know if you could come tackle the laundry over here? No? Well, it was worth an ask.

ADHD isn’t the only bit of spiciness mixing it up in my brain either. Depression and anxiety frequently join forces to ruin good things for me. If you don’t have anxiety or depression, I am envious of you. It’s a lot like having a parrot superglued to your shoulder shouting your worst fears into your ear over and over until you believe them.

‘Why would anyone want to read what you have to say, anyway?’ is my parrot’s current catch phrase.

There’s all that neurospiciness working against me…and then there’s the kids.

Any parent will tell you, getting anything done with kids around is damn near impossible most days. Those lovable little creatures can be an incredible time suck. There are all the things you have to do to keep them alive and in working order—feeding, bathing, keep them from damaging themselves as they catapult off the arm of the couch for the tenth time even though you’ve asked, begged, and threatened them not to…not that I’m speaking from experience. But then you also have all of the other stuff—playing, teaching, enriching their little lives, answering the same questions for the umpteenth time.

Don’t get me wrong, I love my kids. I love spending time with them, watching them learn and create and explore. I love getting to know them as actual people, who they are, how they think. But, let’s be real for a moment. Kids are exhausting. I would swear that mine are allergic to sleep, and yet they still have enough energy to run circles around me all day somehow while I have to mainline coffee to stay awake and coherent.

To complicate parenting even more, I’m raising an autistic seven-year-old with ADHD, and my three-year-old is currently waiting to be evaluated for both as well. Now, I’m not saying that parenting neurodiverse kids is harder than parenting neurotypical ones—it’s all hard—but, I am going to say that raising neurodiverse kids presents a whole different set of challenges.

Add in a neurodiverse spouse, and we’re just one big neurospicy family doing the best we can.

And, ultimately, that is what I want this blog to be about. Like most other families out there, our house is filled with fun and laughter and so much love. It just might look a little differently. And our problems may just require a different set of tools. But we, as parents, are all united by one thing—our love and hope for our children. At the end of the day, we all want the same thing. To raise these tiny humans into kind and happy adults who live up to their own personal capabilities. And no matter how we get there, or how different our paths look, that is pretty amazing.

So, let’s sit back, relax, and get neurospicy up in here.