Last year, in my previous blog, I wrote to you and said:
“And I think, if you’re willing to consider my request, that I have the perfect Christmas gift to ask you for. It would be a very useful thing for me, but it’s not just for me. It would help others across the country, across the continent and around the world. It would help not just those of us with ADHD, but those people who love us and want to understand what’s going on.”
I went on to ask for the ADHD equivalent of the moon:
“For Christmas, I’d like you to bring ADHD awareness to the world. I know there are bigger problems; AIDS, cancers, wars and crime. But I think that if we could resolve some of the problems surrounding the lives of those of us with ADHD, we could all work together on these other things. ”
I realize now that I might have been asking too much of you. I’m aware that the world isn’t really listening to you so much anymore.
I guess I should have asked 45 years ago
When I was a youngster people respected you. They worried about what would fit in your sleigh and whether you could make more than one thing per child in time for Christmas. Now they don’t seem so concerned.
Also, I didn’t know about ADHD when I was seven. I didn’t know about it and I certainly didn’t know I had it. Now I’m aware that I’ve been leveled by it on a daily basis, all my life.
But I can take that
I conduct symphonies of sound that fill in the silences of my days and make me tap my feet and drum my fingers ’til I’m stopped by someone who is deaf to the music of my mind.
I can take being upset with myself ‘cause as often as I upset myself, I make myself laugh, or smile, or cry ’til I’m better. I paint pictures in my mind that overlay the beige world, pictures that please me. I conduct symphonies of sound that fill in the silences of my days and make me tap my feet and drum my fingers ’til I’m stopped by someone who is deaf to the music of my mind.
I can take being knocked down by ADHD every day. I can take it because of Steve. Steve wrote a comment on my post titled ADHD Shame, Why I Hate Being Me. He wrote that he has learned a lot about ADHD. He wrote: “I think back to the people in my past who I’m sure had ADHD and think, ‘If only I’d known… if only they’d explained…’”
Is that it?
I guess I was looking for something explosive last year, something like the flourish of a magicians wand, some smoke and a flash of light and a thunderclap. But when I read Steve’s comment, I realized that real magic comes in small quiet packages. Real magic is in the beginnings of a groundswell of change. Real magic comes slowly and grows steadily and affects change on a permanent basis. Real magic is in each of us, you and me and my readers.
So thank you Santa. Thanks for bringing Steve to us for Christmas. And thanks, Steve, for showing us that the world is becoming aware. This year, Santa, we’d like more of that world awareness, you’re doing great.
… and if you’re still reading, Santa, just like last year:
“I know I don’t deserve anything, but I’m not asking just for myself … I’ll leave milk and cookies as always, (don’t worry, Zoë didn’t bake them) and a carrot for each reindeer.