If you’ve read this blog much then you know I’m all about trying to figure out the dichotomies of ADHD.
This disorder seems to be awash with paradoxical issues that make some of the smartest people shake their heads in wonder.
Take the whole inattentive/hyper focus thing. I mean, we understand how both of those things work individually, but how do they coexist in the same brain without sparks or fires or meltdowns?
I guess the answer to that question is that they don’t. Others may not see the sparks and fires, but the meltdowns are externally manifested lots, right?
That’s not what’s got me confused today.
Today I’m contemplating deeper things. I’m becoming increasingly aware that I’m ready to relax. I’m getting older and slowing down it seems, though I’m not happy about that.
Hell, I’ve recently found myself thinking that I might like to take up napping. What even is that?
There was a time when I didn’t want to go to bed ever.
I spent my teen years running on about four or five hours of sleep per night. I slept well when I went to bed, but I rarely went before two or three, and I was up at seven for school.
In my twenties, thirties and forties, I took better care of myself, or rather there was someone who cared about me and I cared about her. And we cared for each other.
In my fifties
In my early fifties, after my wife died, I found myself alone off and on. And even when I wasn’t alone, the relationships I was in were not as dedicated as a marriage.
And I was not looking after my present or future fully.
Now I’m sixty
And I am confused.
Not the confusion of my teen years when I was trying to figure out … everything. Nor the confusion of my adult life where I tried to make sense of the changing demands of the world.
This is the confusion of one who has been eighteen in his mind all his adult life and now finds his body ready to retire, but his portfolio is an empty manila folder with a post-it note on the front that says, “pick up pencils and paper.”
I guess I’m saying …
I’m trying to tell you something, not necessarily to invest money for your future, though that might be wise.
I’m also not telling you to try to not be so ADHD. We both know who we are and how impossible it is to not be.
I’m telling you to check in with how old you are as often as you think to. I can say with absolute certainty that you are not eighteen, or, if you are eighteen you won’t be for long.
Life passes. And time, that bastard time, it’s not the mystery we know it to be. It passes. We think there’s lots of it, but there isn’t.
I want mine back, and I’m pretty sure that won’t happen.
If you’re eighteen, or twenty-eight, or even fifty-eight, just stop.
Stop right there and check in with your age.
And appreciate what you have and what you’ve done and where you are, because in a year or two, or what seems like a year or two, you’ll be seventy, or eighty.
Life is short and confusing and too soon sliding in to home plate.
And scoring a run means the end of the game. And that’s what’s so confusing.
I’ve gone flat out, all my life, and it feels like I should be winning.
But instead, I’m sixty.