I’ve been hosting webinars for Psych Central for a while now. Did you know we have a growing library of archived webinars?
A number of experts, both in-house and special guest experts have covered a wide variety of topics in addition to ADHD, such as codependency, narcissism, the psychology of success, mindfulness and more – so please check our YouTube Channel if there is another subject that interests you.
In today’s post, I’ll be sharing links and information about ADHD-related topics that we’ve covered in the past.
“What will it take to get you here on time?”
I cringed when I heard that question.
It wasn’t directed at me, but it had been in the past. I cringed with recognition. I cringed with embarrassment for the person it was directed at. And I cringed because I knew, had I been asked a decade ago, I’d have no answer.
Sometimes I feel like I don’t have to explain ADHD at all. Just watch me live my life, and you’ll pretty much have it.
I don’t mean “have it” as in have it. ADHD, thank goodness, is not contagious (as far as we know, but to watch some people’s reactions when I tell them I’ve got it, you’d think it was).
My life is in and of itself a pretty good crash course on how ADHD looks to the outside world.
Let me share with you some, we’ll call them “highlights” although I’m pretty sure that’s not the right term, from last week’s ADHD roadtrip to illustrate what I mean. My mini-speaking tour was truly exemplary when it comes to walking the talk and living la vida loca (which, come to think of it, would make a marvelous theme song for ADHD).
You might have smirked and thought, “Who is she kidding?” Or maybe you thought, “What the heck are we celebrating? My ADHD never did anything good for me.” Maybe you’re one of the lucky ones who saw the words Happy ADHD Awareness Month and simply smiled and thought, “You too Zoe.”
So here’s the promised update (as of the Canadian programming schedule; further episodes have aired elsewhere and, spoiler alert, it looks like Max goes on medication and it helps).
So far we’ve got television and ice cream as two alleged culprits cited as the source of Max’s behavior. The usual suspects. But what do the experts say?
The countdown is on! Seven days are all that’s left to change the world for the better.
But let me begin at the beginning.
Being diagnosed with ADHD at 47 was a revelation. It explained so much about my life, there was no way I could imagine having another experience that paralleled the insights from learning about ADHD (for example, why the only part about Martha Stewart I could understand was the jail part; at the time of my diagnosis I was about five years behind in my income tax).
My friend is hooked on Coronation Street; has been for years.
How could I help watching when she and her partner were glued in front of the telly on weekends when I was visiting? I couldn’t be rude, now could I?
So, there we were one evening, me on the loveseat, her in her comfy chair, immersed in Episode 8439 (the show’s been running since 1960).
I’m noticing the over-the-top behavior of eight-year-old Max, son of Kylie and adopted son of husband David.
I know where this is going, I say aloud.
Sure enough, two episodes later, adoptive dad David has set up an appointment with the family doc, against mom Kylie’s wishes. Kylie doesn’t want the kid to have a label. (I’ve already labeled him. Too late, Kylie.)
In the past I’ve asked my coach if others he’s worked with talk about similar issues. He assured me that the coaching session is for me, and whatever I want to work on, in whatever way I choose, is just fine.
This did nothing to quell my anxiety about whether or not I was doing this coaching thing right. What nailed it was our last session, which began with our usual chatter to ease in to the conversation. And then I said,
I want to share something. I’m not sure if it’s a subject for coaching.
He replied, “There’s a coachable moment in everything.”
Really? Okay then. Coach this…
It happened at a job interview. I found myself feeling clueless about eye contact: how much was too much? I was trying to pay attention to what the interviewer was saying, and ended up worrying that I was staring like an expressionless sociopath so I looked away – just when she asked me a question. I’d been vacillating between trying for a neutral expression, hoping to look attentive and reflective, and occasional smiles, which I was sure were apropos of nothing, ill-timed, and making me look even more nuts. I couldn’t help it. I had no idea whose face I was using, or how it got there, but it wasn’t mine.
Surprisingly, I got the job.
Nearly a decade has passed, and there have been few comparably cringe-worthy incidents.
Until now, that is.
I’d been sitting at my desk, spinning my wheels, unable to focus all day. That’s when I remembered Julie’s yoga class.
I might as well go, I thought; I’m not getting anything done here.
At 5:45 p.m., I threw my thick blanket in the car and off I went to Harrison Park. It was a perfect summer’s evening, with a blue sky, a gentle breeze, and a few clouds to keep us cool. I was glad to get away from my computer and knew that if I didn’t force myself to go to class, I might sit well into the evening, accomplishing nothing and becoming frustrated and despondent in the process.
As I drove the winding, descending road into the park, I began to relax, before the yoga even started.