Chances were 50/50 whether it would be a frivolous telemarketer, or something important.
Ok, that’s probably wishful thinking. Chances were around 99% it would be a telemarketer, but as usual, I clung to the hope that it was the Ellen DeGeneres Show inviting me to talk about women and ADHD. (Hey, dream big, right?)
Yesterday we talked about a few strategies for getting unstuck in your ADHD treatment.
Today I’ll talk about another roadblock that keeps us from moving forward: our new-found fabulousness!
No, really. It happens. One day, you wake up, you look in the mirror and you mutter, Where is that clumsy, blurtacious, chronically late, kinda kooky ADHDer who couldn’t find her way out of a paper bag with a GPS?
Frightening, I know. But this can happen: you reach a point in your ADHD treatment when you no longer recognize yourself.
In fact, it’s even worse than that: you don’t even recognize your mirror.
Previously, I wrote a post called ADHD: Betwixt and Between, which explored how we can get stuck in our ADHD treatment.
One way is when we’ve established a treatment approach but feel like we’re spinning our wheels.
A sure sign of this is when we become Peggy Lee and begin singing “Is that all there is?” in the shower. If this is happening to you – take action now! Keep reading! This is a very dangerous stage, especially if you can’t carry a tune.
I’d had to travel out of town for a medical appointment which I’d dreaded, and decided to stop at one of my favorite restaurants for lunch on the way home.
The appointment went far better than I’d expected, so instead of driving home feeling sorry for myself I felt happy and celebratory. I began wishing I’d had company for lunch.
This got me thinking about why I hadn’t called ahead to make a lunch date with a friend. That’s when it struck me: for nearly half a century, I’d believed I was a natural-born loner. By the time the waitress brought my food, I’d started to deconstruct that belief.
I was delighted when a friend showed up at my door with two tickets to our local Ontario Hockey League (OHL) hockey game for Saturday night. In spite of the NHL spat, I could get my hockey fix. And not just on t.v., but a LIVE hockey fix. Even better.
Little did I know I was destined to have an ADHD fan face-off.
STOP! Are you having a crappy weekend? Are you planning an upcoming social event?
Just in time to turn it around, I’d like to offer my newly-minted Social Liaison Outcome Predictor. Or, as I like to call it, S.L.O.P.
My easy-to-use questionnaire is based on typical ADHD symptoms and ADHD-fuelled socially awkward or challenging situations.
Just complete these 10 easy questions to find out which gatherings are right for you, and which ones will be about as much fun as filling out your annual income tax return while sitting on a pillow of broken glass.
The S.L.O.P. predictor only takes a few minutes or so, even less if you miss some of the questions (highly likely if you have ADHD symptoms, especially Form-O-Phobia).
What are you waiting for? Your fantastic rest-of-the-weekend / social life is about to begin!
Why do they call it Attention Deficit Disorder? Nobody can be a perfectionist unless they notice minute details that don’t meet with their expectations of perfection.
Last year, I had that kind of attention in spades. I nearly let the black hole of perfectionism suck the joy right out of owning my first home.
Towards the end of renovations (and the end of the year), I’d let myself fall so far into perfectionism, I exploded in a full-blown, adult-sized tantrum, complete with yelling, crying, whining, and arm-flailing, all unleashed on an innocent friend who’d unwittingly dropped by to visit. Not quite the greeting she’d expected.
If you have ADHD, chances are one of your New Year’s resolutions is to quit smoking.
Sadly, research shows that not only are more people with ADHD addicted to cigarettes, we’re more deeply addicted to them.
I’ve recently discovered a book called Allen Carr’s Easy Way to Stop Smoking.
Sir Richard Branson, famed Virgin Airlines entrepreneur, is an ex-smoker who has publicly acknowledged his ADHD. He’s also been a long-time advocate of Carr’s approach.
A friend’s recent abdication from a popular social media site and his careful reasoning behind it gave me pause. Not for the first time, I considered my own participation in social media.
In the past, I’d often bemoaned the fact that younger generations are missing out on what I consider to be critical social skills. How can you learn social graces and develop social aptitude when your face’s buried in an App?
These two considerations collided forcefully this morning.
I landed at the intersection between my own acquisition of social skills versus my social media use.
Only yesterday, I’d been congratulating my friend for opting out of social media in favor of increased face time. Yet I hadn’t considered how my own online interactions were affecting my hard-won social skills.