I was thinking about how many awards events there are out there: Oscars, Grammys, Emmys, heck, there are even child beauty pageants (ew) and an Olympics just for farmers!

While a lot of us with ADHD started off with high aspirations and great expectations, by the time we’re diagnosed as adults we can feel downright demoralized. Sometimes we feel like we’ll never excel at anything. This is depressing.

So – how about an ADHD Olympics? At least if we had our own Olympics, we’d have a chance at a gold medal.

Ok, I admit, maybe they’re not referring to my ADHD per se.

Ya, they are. You might have heard some (or all) of these, too. Didn’t you wish you had some quick response at the ready? Feel free to use any (or all) of these, any time. You’re welcome.

ADHD Anti-Distraction Blinders

I’m looking for a partner for my million dollar ideas. Everyone knows every ADHDer is brilliant, creative and entrepreneurial, right?  So says the media.

The bad part is, we’re big on ideas, short on follow-through. That’s why I need an entrepreneurial type to take my brilliant ideas and run with them.

A solution came to me while driving home last night. My creative juices were flowing. Or maybe it was sweat. The heat wave, after all, hadn’t broken yet, so who can say? Point is, all this sweating and thinking and driving through the rolling countryside set my mind a-wandering…

Fame: good for ADHD symptoms, or not? Photo ©Kelly Babcock, July 2011

In Almost Famous: Re-thinking Being a Famous ADHDer, Part I, I began to think about what it might be like to achieve my goal of being a famous writer.

ADHD + success = trouble?

With the recent passing of British singer Amy Winehouse, I started worrying about success luring me to the dark side, unleashing my less healthy tendencies.

Would fame and fortune erode all my hard work, neutralize my ADHD meds, and unleash the pre-diagnosis beast within? Worse, would it exaggerate my less-than-desirable traits?

Greig's Caves, Bruce Peninsula, Ontario, Canada - ©Photo Zoë Kessler, 2009

I was about 27 or 28. There was a certain dance club we used to frequent in my town. When you entered, you had to walk through a corridor to get to the bar and dance floor. The wall was lined with men, drinks in hand, all eyeing you up and down as you passed by. I hated it.

It was like running the gauntlet. I became so fed up with being ogled by lecherous creeps that I began to stare them in the eye, just long enough to make them uncomfortable, then I’d run my eyes slowly down to their feet and back up again, to once more challenge them by looking directly into their eyes. Seldom would a man meet my gaze. They could dish it out, but they sure as hell couldn’t take it.

I was nobody’s prey. I was a hunter. But I didn’t know that then.

I was curious about where I was this time last year, so I looked up my post from July 21, 2010.  It was an interview with Nancy Ratey, author, The Disorganized Mind. Nancy and I have been friends ever since that interview, but I’m sorry to say we haven’t been in touch for a while.  With  my  mom dying recently, and changes in Nancy’s life, and both of us being so busy with work, we haven’t talked in  months.

I miss her.

I realize that, same as a year ago, I still have very few ADHD women friends. Ok, make that – no ADHD women friends, except Nancy. Why is that?

I think it’s because I’m much more a guy when it comes to ADD.  I have the hyperactivity thing, the extreme libido thing, the Chutzpah thing, I’m loud and active and sexual and unpolished.  And I’m ok with that.

Touched by an ADHD angel...

Part II – The Redemption

On my way home from my appointment yesterday, I stopped off at the grocery store. As I walked through the sliding door, I noticed a young boy with big, sad eyes sitting in one of the chairs set up for the little old ladies to wait for their cabs.

What first struck me was the slogan on his T-shirt:

“Chaos,
Panic,
Disorder!
My mission is done here.”

Part I – The Crash

Yesterday Ken (not his real name), an acquaintance of mine, took his first dose of ADHD stimulant medication.

I’d previously met with Ken to talk about adult ADHD and his concerns about taking medication. I related my own experience, suggested some reference materials, and we parted. At my request, Ken (age 42) wrote to me after he’d taken his first dose. His comment?

“Started Concerta yesterday. Well. Normal people have it f*cking easy don’t they? Amazing.”

Gulp.

His comment sent me into a tailspin.

Does watching TV give a toddler ADHD? Tune in!

Here at ADHD from A to Zoë, one of my goals is to dispel some of the myths that surround ADHD. For example:

1) That we’re crazy.

Ok. That one’s not a myth. We’re good-crazy. See Go Ahead, Call Me Crazy.

2) We’re lazy.

Just because we LOOK like we’re spinning our wheels…hey – do you have ANY idea how much energy it takes to spin THAT MANY wheels? Fast? All at once? And to keep spinning in spite of ample evidence that we’re getting nowhere?

Evidence of ADHD symptoms in childhood is one aspect of an ADHD diagnosis. In Part I, I shared some of my childhood diary entries as part of my personal paper trail of ADHD evidence (or lack thereof).

Today, we’ll look at more historical evidence. We’ll see that, based on the paper trail alone, an unskilled observer might erroneously conclude that I was a little angel, or a child prodigy whilst attending public school – neither of which is remotely true (ok, maybe the prodigy part).

(Ok, maybe not…)