ADHD

I've been thinking about ADHD a lot lately (can we say hyper-focus).

It's funny, I've always viewed mine as a distinct advantage over those that are "neurotypical" aka "boring" *winky face*. And, when I say mine, I mean, my suspected ADHD. Or alleged. Never formally diagnosed nor treated, because, why?

Long ago, I developed systems that work for me. I struggle(d) to sit still, so I took restroom breaks. In high school, I remember being asked, more than once, if I ever actually went to class (then in college, I simply didn't.) I read my books upside down in an attempt to make them more challenging and keep my attention. I "hid" doing word searches during class inside my desk (the teachers HAD to know I was doing this, but I'm sure they were like, "shhhh, don't poke the bear, she is still and silent, FINALLY.")

I live(d) off of To-Do lists and planners. I love to organize. I've developed some OCD out of need for functionality. I studied in loud places, because that was the only way I could tell if I was actually retaining information...I didn't hear a sound.

I always thought I was a skeptic. And that this skepticism is why I never took words at face value, nor completed tasks in the same way as my peers. Then I realized, it's because my brain does not see things in the same way. Simple questions on normal paperwork stump me. (i.e. Relationship: ummm, my relationship to them or their relationship to me!? Agh, umm, I don't know. They are my son and I'm their mother. So...do I write Mother? Or Son? Or Mother-Son?) Yet, complicated, strange, intense and difficult logic puzzles seem like common sense. For better for worse, I am ALWAYS "reading between the lines".

Clothes have never fit me correctly. In my logical brain, it doesn't make sense that I have THE MOST UNIQUE body-type to have ever existed that not one single piece of clothing fits properly. But that's what I believed, forever. Until it dawned on me. It's not the clothes...

In fact, this constant wondering and seemingly obvious reinforcement that I was in fact, THE MOST UNIQUE person around, did nothing but bolster my confidence. I misread all of my bizarre little ADHD tics and strange neuro-connections as traits!!  Like super top quality traits that could be interpreted as creative, original, innovative, imaginative, ingenious, resourceful. These words are sought after, things you want people to say about you.

I live my life in ADD wonderland. People ask me how I manage to have more hours in the day? When your mind bounces from 30 different topics, and you're able to harness any of them, it appears you're being super productive. I can come up with a reasonable (and often super efficient, because ADHDers hate to waste time as it seems to just slip away) solution, for any problem. In fact, I can come up with endless solutions. I'm the "idea man" (but don't count on me to follow through.) As a result, I can find the positive in nearly all situations.

And the energy. Oh, the energy ADHD gifts you is invaluable. Envious even. How do you think I could swim 6 hours a day and still "go" to school and excel? None. Stop. Energy.

In my experience, I would wish ADHD as a gift for everyone. It's fairly well-known that most of history's greatest inventors and scientists were blessed with this affliction. The first to come to mind is Albert Einstein...

...wait a minute. Here it is. The flaw in my theories above. Einstein. Perhaps the most famous part of Einstein's story, is how much he struggled. How he forgot and lost things. Was distracted in class. Did not actually do all that well academically. His crazy hair, and unique personality. He simply, did not fit in, anywhere.

I think about this, and I think about my own children. I see my Brock, and mostly, my George. Oh how fascinating, funny and unique they are. I embrace all of their tics. Again, all those positive words come to mind. But then I see the struggle. How simple homework takes 2 hours, when it should take 2 minutes. How overwhelmed they get because all of those 30 topics swirling up there in their brain are too hard to harness. They can't seem to pull them down and line them up and see how much they can accomplish. Instead, they see hurdle after hurdle. They hear "be quiet, sit still, stop stretching your shirt, where are your shoes, where is your backpack, why can you not listen!?" I realize, not everyone with ADHD enjoys it. Not everyone gets mostly perks without a lot of consequences.

I smile, when I go to pick up my children from aftercare and see that every single back pack is lined along the wall, except for 2. Hanging from the hand rail, on the curve. George is right, it looks like the perfect hook for a backpack. I'm sure the instructions were to place your bag along the wall, but that curiosity, that eye, that impulsivity, it sets you apart. But it can set you back.

I've been thinking about ADHD a lot lately. When do you get the diagnosis. Do you really want a formal diagnosis. When do you treat? Do you treat? Will the creativity disappear? Will your generous, sweet, wonderful child get negatively labeled? Is it worth it to keep that untouchable uniqueness yet struggle, day in and day out to stay afloat? For some with the condition, like me, the answer is easy. The hurdles just were lower, fewer and further between. For others, those hurdles are there before you even get to the bottom of the stairs in the morning.

For some reason, my personality matched with ADHD was a great fit. Though, in hindsight, I remember my swim coaches saying "you could see it, the instant you walked on the deck, which Erin showed up. The one that could not and would not lose, or the one that would give up." In med school,  once material got so intense and massive, I struggled at times. I was at the will of my hyper-focus times and if those didn't fall in good timing with exams...well, my performance yo-yo'd all over the place. Unlike Michael Phelps, I was never really able to figure out what made me tick. I still struggle, to this day. My mom was probably right, I should have done yoga or meditated - but to my over-active mind, that sounds like torture.

I am not sure it's within my capabilities to be on time. Whether it's due to distraction, always searching for my phone, purse, keys, avoidance of being early and bored or straight up procrastination...I am always late. Despite all this, I feel I've nothing but flourished.

Such a fascinating, and necessary condition, ADHD. Our world would never advance without these out of the box thinkers. Without the rule benders. The boundary testers. The intense, hyper-focus that allows you to create a light bulb after thousands of failures. How boring would entertainment be without the new dance moves you create, the news sounds you connect, the jokes you make...the child's emporium of imagination! Disney!! Yes, he had ADHD too.

I guess, like pretty much everything for me, I'll continue to think about ADHD. A lot.

NOT an Excuse.

At some point during my early teenage years, my parents arrived home with a new Ford Explorer. I loved that car the very instant I saw it in the driveway. Maybe because it was green, I don't know. All I know is, I thought it was perfect. I am sure I had seen one before, but I simply had no opinion on the car, whatsoever. But now? Now it was my favorite! The very next day, I rode in it with my mother to run errands. At our first stop, what did we park aside? Another Ford Explorer. I couldn't believe my eyes. What were the odds!? Slowly, as we drove around that day, I started to see them everywhere. They were literally EVERYWHERE. This almost disappointed me, here I was, thinking we had something, new and special and amazing, but, really, it was everywhere. I just hadn't noticed it. In one instant. One experience. One moment. I had sensationalized the most insignificant, common vehicle to every grace our roads (at that time), all because my parents simply brought it home to our driveway.


This. This is what the media is doing every single day. They are choosing to draw our attention to certain things, phrase them in certain ways, all to sensationalize something that is likely extremely trivial and mundane. Because, who wants to see and hear about the boring, everyday Explorer?


I am marginally disappointed with the Olympics media coverage, but gargantuanly disappointed with the "lay persons" response to it.  Most of these announcers and reporters are tried and true. They are good people, with good hearts. I challenge any one of us to get on air and speak constantly and interestingly while remaining 100% PC. It's not possible. You will slip. You will phrase something incorrectly. You WILL offend someone. We can all find slip ups, things to be offended about, Explorer's...if that's where we've turned our attention. I absolutely don't want to downplay real issues that exist in our society, but I also find it extremely exhausting that we are trying to find Rosa Parks at every single bus stop. The way history tells it, she actively pursued civil rights. This was her passion. She chose to be involved in multiple organizations and movements. She searched for the right moment and seized the opportunity to change a societal norm, in a fantastic and necessary way.  These are athletes. And sports announcers. Not societal revolutionaries.


As you may (or may not) have noticed, it is actually less frequent than you'd expect for the team captain of each sport to be the most decorated athlete. It is hard to concentrate, train day in and day out, be guided by your passion and drive in a sport, while also being a motivational speaker and exemplary human. As an elite athlete myself, I remember constantly being reminded by our coaches not to wear our warm ups or any team apparel when going out to the bars (which was also adamantly discouraged from doing, and that any belligerent behavior, no matter our apparel is not condoned nor tolerated in any capacity.) We were reminded regularly that, though we may not want the attention, we will get it. That it's our responsibility to represent the most upstanding and morally correct human behavior at all times. My high school coach held me back from Senior Nationals one Summer, because, though I did not have one single sip of alcohol, I was guilty by association. I followed my friends, I didn't speak up, I did not behave at the level appropriate for an "athlete of my caliber" as they say. I'm not sure I have ever been so heart broken, one of the toughest lessons I have ever learned, and I'm not sure I ever completely agreed with the severity of that punishment. But I had to suck it up and learn that, as Uncle Ben so famously taught us, "with great power comes great responsibility". And, just as Peter Parker made a few mistakes before he knew what to do with himself. And, at moments, was angry with the "gift" he'd been given and the responsibility that landed on his shoulders. He too, had to learn to deal with his mistakes. Wouldn't you rather do this privately, and not under the scrutiny of all the world?

Ryan Lochte, being a 12-time Olympic medalist, SHOULD be more responsible, and make better choices, and be aware of what he is saying on National television. We ALL know that, I know that he has been taught this, time and again. He's not a child, he SHOULD have known better. But, as many people do, he made a mistake. There are so many comments out there with disgruntled people, about how Lochte's behavior overshadowed* other Olympic gold medalists time to shine. This didn't need to happen. We all could have let the Rio law enforcement and the Olympic committee handle it. We could have just let Gabby Douglas choose to salute the flag however she wished. We could have enjoyed amazing athletes, men, women, black, white, brown and watched them perform feats never to be seen again without suddenly turning our focus to sexist and racist comments. Somehow. Social media made one of my favorite things in the world to experience and watch, into a torturous, "he said, she said" gossip, speculation fest. I simply want to enjoy what's left of the Olympics. I would love to recount the amazing moments, and try to quit rehashing the questionable ones. I would love to identify the great things that people said and did, not the slip ups. The poor choices. The regrettable moments of a bunch of superstars who know they are in the lime-light (didn't ask for it) but still struggle to stay on that rigid moral path, that apparently ALL the rest of America has no problem following.



(OK, maybe sometimes we like a little bit of the lime-light: I was the IU record-holder of most NCAA All-American Honors at one point (with 13). Record hold in the 100 fly briefly, as well. Ahh. The good ol' days.)

By the way, if you ask the athletes, there is no such thing media "overshadowing". With a few exceptions, these people are simply trying to be the best within themselves. The Olympic dream is not to be on TV, but to be THE BEST at something. Competitors of this caliber are not proving things to you, they are proving things to themselves. They are reaping the rewards of decades of self-control as well as intensely hard focus and training.  As the first American female to win gold in wrestling, Helen Maroulis, says: “I didn’t come here to win a gold medal for the media attention, I didn’t come here to win a gold medal in order to find something within myself or some peace within myself. I found that self-worth before I stepped on the mat. I think that’s why I won the gold medal."

So please. For just one moment forget you had ever been presented with that Explorer. Relax. Marvel. Enjoy watching the phenomenal capabilities of the human body, and try to let the less than perfect moments that exist in all of nature take a back seat.

Let's Talk about Sex, Baby.

I saw a preteen in clinic the other day. She was going into 6th grade. When I examine this age-group, I like to keep things light. Cheerful. Safe. Interesting. I ask questions, even with the parents in the room, about everything. I ask them as if it's totally normal to bring up questions of grades, schoolwork, friends, safety, peer pressure, alcohol, drugs, puberty and yes, even sex. I almost always bring up the more stereotypically "awkward" subjects by first assessing the patient's level of knowledge or experience, and open it with this simple question: "Have you had health or sex education at school yet?"

YET. I always use that word, as, silly me,  I thought it was standard in ALL school curriculum to teach children/teens about not only their bodies, but one of the MOST BASIC of all human interactions: intercourse. You know. Procreation. How a species survives. One of our most primitive and natural instincts. One's sex drive is so vital to human existence that it is one of the 4 major groups we use, as physicians, to assess quality of life. When meeting a patient for the first time and/or screening for things such as Major Depression I ask about these basic things: Appetite, Sleep, Mood and Libido. (Admittedly, with some well-adjusted, healthy seeming adults, I will just inquire into one or two of these categories and leave it at that, but only sometimes.)

So, I proceed with my usual exam with this patient, and I ask her my usual question. She sat there somewhat silently, so I looked to her mother, who was shaking her head, as if to say "no". I responded, "oh really? I thought most schools did this in 5th grade, but maybe it's 6th." The mom continues to shake her head. No? "They don't teach sexual education at ## #####." I'm fairly certain my jaw dropped to the floor. I'm still looking at the patient, and I ask, "Did they teach you about the menstrual cycle, or periods?" While continuing to avoid eye contact by looking down, I hear a rather meager, "no, they don't teach us anything to do with that kind of stuff". I ask if she and her girlfriends have talked about it. Still a no!! This visit continues, I give some education, ask some questions. Talk to both the mom and daughter, trying to keep communication lines very open, make it clear to her mother that she needs to be sure and continue this education at home, and that the daughter should feel comfortable to go to her mother, me or a teacher if she has any questions or concerns. I print some materials for them both to read and discharge them on their way.

What just happened? Why would this be cut out of a curriculum? I don't care your religious beliefs, there is no way to remove procreation from the equation.  Our bodies were created for it. Girls start bleeding. Boys...well, I have four boys, I really don't want to think about what happens to boys. But I HAVE to!!! My boys ask me questions all the time, and though I mostly keep it scientific, they are getting honest, real answers with true anatomical names. I am educating them. Preparing them for life, a happy life, a realistic life...and hopefully, an open, honest and respectful one.

I don't just answer questions about their boy parts either. I put them to bed at the same time every night. When they try to fight this, I explain (futile as it may be) how important sleep is to their little growing bodies and huge growing brains. When I offer food to them, I try to help them understand healthy choices. No, my kids don't get a fruit and vegetable every single day, or probably even week for that matter. I think we just had pepperoni pizza for the fourth night in a row tonight, but, yes, I still talk about nutrition when the opportunity arises. When they are having a tough day, or a melt down, I try to bring awareness and validation to their feelings, so hopefully, in the future they can deal with their anger or sadness appropriately...and not like a 2 year old. (By the way, 2 year olds were NOT meant to be 40lbs. Makes picking them up or forcing them in a car seat A LOT harder.)

What I'm saying, is it's not just about sex. Kids need to learn about life. Everyday. We are cultivating their future attitudes and decisions towards VITAL human needs. And by we, I mean adults. It doesn't have to be mom and dad. It can be aunt, friend, teacher, coach, doctor. I am slightly enraged that an entire generation of children that have gone through this school (and I'm certain it's not the only one) will secretively discuss sex amongst their peers. Will feel so insecure when they have their first menstrual cycle. Will have been led to believe that sex is a taboo subject that should not be freely and openly discussed. Will think that something as vital to the human existence {experience} as sleep is to be ignored, shushed, brushed under the rug, left to those much less qualified to teach. I can't help but wonder what kind of sex education a male college student got from his school, parents, peers, that led him to rape an unconscious woman? Insomnia leads directly to psychosis. Lack of dietary eduction leads to obesity or other major health concerns. What does ignorance of sexual drive lead to...? I can't help but wonder.

The Power of Positive Thinking.

Memory is an interesting thing. I remember being fascinated by it as a young child. On multiple occasions through grade school, and high school, I would sit at my desk and think, "OK. Even though nothing remarkable happened on this day. I am going to remember it. Is it possible? What can I do to never forget this day? The conversations I had? The people I saw? The joy I felt in the small things? What I had for lunch?" As you can see, I remember having these thoughts, but no, I remember nothing about those days. I cannot remember what I ate, who I spoke with nor which activities I participated in, on any single one of those days that I tried so hard to mark in my memory.


The things I do remember, are things I photographed. The things I retold, over and over, turning them into funny stories. The events that I still discuss, rehash and laugh about with friends. I also remember traumatic events, like watching my dog get hit by a car, because my brain brings it back up, I talk about it, I think about it. Imagine, if all I talked about, photographed and discussed with friends and family were the negative things in my life. What do you think I would remember then? How do you think I would perceive my life?


I know there is this constant talk about our "social media" lives versus our "real" lives. How this "humble bragging", "happy all the time", "always picture perfect" posting is impacting others and making them feel guilty, inadequate, and not as successful at life than their peers. When, in reality, we are all {for the most part} going through the exact same thing. I would like to dispute this argument. I believe negative, or even constant "real" posts, would only make matters worse. It's one thing to vent about a poor experience, and another to ruminate on it. We all have those friends, the ones who bring us down, who we feel like they must be depressed because of their constant posts: no sleep, kids sick, I'm sick, traffic, work, drama, hospital, doctor, vet, car problems, plumbing problems, no time, tired. I see this and can't help but wonder: is this how they view their life? It's such hard work. It's so heavy. When they remember things, this is what they will remember, because THIS is what they talked about, all the time. To friends. To family. To their SELF.


For me, positive thinking is now second nature. I don't believe I was born like this. I had an incredible swim coach during my formative years, who trained us to think positive. I have parents who reinforced it. I've surrounded myself by people who bring me up, and join in my happiness. I have a hard time even creating negative thoughts, posts or memories, because I simply don't see negativity anymore. Sure, I see hurdles, I see difficult moments, I see poop and pee and temper tantrums and anxiety and lack of sleep and sometimes I even write about them, but then I see over-coming these trials, and view it as a time to celebrate. At the end of it, I remember surviving (or I don't remember it at all) because, that was my focus.

I just think we all get so consumed with everyone else. With external circumstances. With the feeling "poor me", "why me". We forget, the power of positive thinking. So, next time you have a bad experience, wait to tell about it when you can be proactive, maybe resolve it, and be encouraged by the result, instead of depressed about the journey. And, gosh darn it, next time you want to "humble brag" on Facebook or Instagram, do it. That way, when you decide to take a trip down memory lane, scroll through your own feed, see your "TimeHop" memories, the content that will be thrust in your face will be an awesome life, full of happiness and beauty. Which is exactly what life is. Or can be.

    
As a concrete, personal example, I performed the art of positive thinking just last night. Matt has been in New York for 3 days, and being single mother to 5 under the age of 7 is inherently difficult, stressful and exhausting without any added mishaps. Being a perfect fall weekend, by Sunday night, the boys were utterly, and completely filthy, with face paint and all. Every inch of every single one of them was covered in dirt. My mother offered to make dinner for us, and we tried to eat by 6:00 so I would have time to get them home and clean and ready for school the following day. By the time we finished with the meal I was done. I really couldn't stomach the idea of bathing all 4 of them while trying to care for the infant. So my mom suggested we throw them in the tub at her place and just send them home in some t-shirts.

     Well, the same wonderful reason they were filthy is the same reason they were EXHAUSTED! Bath time turned into kick, splash, hit, throw a fit and cry time. (In all honesty, I laughed through most of it, which probably upset the kids more, as I was not validating their emotions, but it was RIDICULOUS). My brother, home from school for the weekend, sat downstairs, listening to the disaster, wondering all the while who might survive this whole bathing ordeal. They all did, they made it. As I collected their belongings and packed up to leave, my mother dressed them. I walked down the stairs to find them all surrounding her, like 4 baby birds, being fed fruit snacks. That is the image I captured. It's the image I posted about. It was my favorite moment of the day. Had I not just written this little ditty, the joy I felt seeing my four, clean boys, surrounding my mother is all I would have remembered. This bath time calamity would have been completely forgotten, and viewed only as a fun, positive experience.

Only you have the power to mold your memories and therefore, your life. You can choose, on this day, to remember it as a happy one. And one day at a time, you will be creating your happy life. A life that is real, that exists, that is by no means "fake". Just because of a bit of positive thinking {and posting, and story-telling}.