Still, I procrastinate.
All year I’ve told myself, Tomorrow, I’ll go swimming. With the New Year fast approaching, I’m starting to panic. What if this year closes, and I haven’t started on my goal?
Why not make it a New Year’s resolution? I thought, seduced by the age-old tradition of setting our sights on a fresh start in the New Year.
Christmas is a time of abundance. This may be especially true for those of us with ADHD.
Yes, there is more chocolate (always a good thing). But there’s also more impulsivity and more serious consequences for the future. Unless you want a diet, an overdrawn bank account, and emotional burnout in your post-holiday future, heightened impulsivity will not serve you well at this time.
Whether you’re celebrating Christmas, Hanukkah, Yule, or nothing at all: there’s more.
More of being overwhelmed. More distraction. More emotional stress. More disorganization, more time management challenges, more opportunities for social faux pas.
So how do we avoid getting more of the ADHD “gifts” that we’d rather return? When asking for gifts this year, just remember that “S” does not just stand for “Santa:” it’s also for simplicity, support, supplements, serenity, and surrender: five things we do need more of.
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.)