It’s New Year’s day. It rolled in here quietly in my home. We don’t go crazy about it here.
As someone with ADHD I have had too many new beginnings to get excited about a made up one.
“But, it’s the beginning of a new decade!” you say. Sorry, no, it’s the last year of the twenty-teens decade. Decades start with the number 1 on the end of their ordinal. Trust me, I was a computer programmer. Or don’t trust me, write out the numbers of the years starting with year 1 in groups of ten and see for yourself.
Sorry, pet peeve of mine. I’m over it now … for a bit.
Oh, right. Well, for years I would randomly decide that I needed to start over again and fix some part of my life.
“This will be it!” I would declare and I’d make a further declaration that I would never again fall off the rails of progress, never lose my way, never do that thing or fall victim to that distraction, never speak without thinking again, never …
You get the picture.
And if you have ADHD …
You know the result.
New beginnings didn’t work. And since I had no clue what I was up against prior to my diagnosis, I would often discover the “solution” to my dysfunction in the most ridiculous places.
“All I need,” I would think to myself, “is a great filing system. Like these cardboard boxes that I’ll put all my bills in and then I will surely do my taxes on time.”
Cue sad violins
When I was diagnosed, I still didn’t stop trying to begin again. True, I had a better understanding of why the new beginnings failed, but fail they did.
It took me close to 60 years to realize that I can’t begin again. I have to keep plugging along with what I started when I was born.
The truth of new beginnings is they take me away from the task of fixing the things that have always held me back.
There is no new beginning, only the delusion of it. And if that works for you then have at it.
I’m not saying …
I’m not saying you can’t change, not saying you’re stuck with what you have for life, but I am saying you will have what you’ve had in your past for the rest of your life and it’s always going to be there.
I’ve gone from finding my keys in the fridge or where ever to hanging them up on the hook 999 times out of one thousand. I’ve made systems that work to help me remember things and put them in places where I can’t forget them or miss them. I’ve come a long way.
And I have changed a little bit at a time every day of my life, and more changes and better changes since my diagnosis.
And I am happy with this.
Happy and content
This is still my life, there was no new beginning. No New Year’s resolution. No sudden change.
And I wouldn’t want to lose any of the past, even if some of it hurts to recall, because there were lessons learned all along the way.
So I’m not celebrating a new beginning with the New Year.
I’m quietly and contentedly enjoying how much better my life has gotten. Every. Single. Day of my Life!
Happy … New Day, my friends, may 2020 continue to take you to the places you wish to be, one day at a time.