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ADHD Doesn’t Make Me Cry

I’m not crying!

ADHD is an insidious and problematic affliction.

Yes, I know, you think it’s a gift. You go. Make the most of it. I’m doing that as well.

But if it is a gift, it’s one you can’t exchange and it’s one that messes with your life in weird and less than wonderful ways.

If it’s a gift it is a gift that comes with distraction, uncontrollable hyperfocus, procrastination, inappropriate actions and conversation, poor working memory, self inflicted depression, and low self esteem.

Aw, and you gift wrapped it. Thanks. So sweet …


Yes, I do think outside the box, if that’s what you need me to do then thank you ADHD. Yes, I am a good problem solver, if I see a problem, thank you ADHD.

Yes, I’m fun to hang out with, if you don’t want to get a word in edgewise into the short pauses for breath that sometimes occur in my monologues, thank you ADHD.

Okay, all those things are true, I think outside the box, I am a good problem solver, and I am often very fun and funny.

Also, I talk a lot and that means I’m not bad as a solo radio host.

And in truth

I don’t know life any other way. I get glimpses of what is normal from observation, and I pick up hints from conversations and comments, but my life has always been a life with ADHD whether I knew it or not.

And while there is sadness and disappointment involved here in this ADHD life of mine, it does not come from having ADHD.

I mean, how can you miss what you’ve never had?

Well …

Okay, I could imagine not talking incessantly and having people seek out my company because I’m a good listener, just like I can imagine the freedom of falling out of a plane and sky diving.

But the truth is I like to talk.

I listen for two reasons. First, to get inspired for my next comment. And second, as proof of life, or at least proof that I haven’t rendered my audience catatonic.

Also, I can imagine that skydiving freedom thing, but in reality the first thing I think of is that I’d probably pull the cord almost immediately after jumping out and then the chute wouldn’t deploy and I’m thinking that however many minutes it would take to plummet to the ground it would be the worst few minutes of my obviously just ending life and I’m really not into skydiving any more than I am into listening when I could be talking …


The thing is, ADHD doesn’t make me cry.

I’m getting to the point where I’ve figured out a lot of it. I’m happy with my life. I love my life. I have my coping mechanisms in place and I’m just rolling right along.

I know what I can do, know what I probably shouldn’t do, know what it takes to do the difficult things and I’m getting by quite well, thank you very much for asking.

ADHD doesn’t make me cry.

The fifty years I spent not knowing I had ADHD, knowing something was wrong but not knowing what it was? That makes me cry.

ADHD Doesn’t Make Me Cry

Kelly Babcock

I was born in the city of Toronto in 1959, but moved when I was in my fourth year of life. I was raised and educated in a rural setting, growing up in a manner I like to refer to as free range. I live on the traditional lands of the Chippewas of Nawash in an area where my family history stretches back 6 or 7 generations and my First Nations friend's families go back hundreds of generations. I was diagnosed with ADHD at the age of 50 and have been both struggling with the new reality and using my discoveries to make my life better. I am a freelance writer and I write two blogs here at Psych Central, one about living with ADHD and one that is a daily positive affirmation that acts as an example of finding the good in as much of my life as I possibly can.

Find out more about me on my website: writeofway.

email me at ADHD Man

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APA Reference
Babcock, K. (2020). ADHD Doesn’t Make Me Cry. Psych Central. Retrieved on July 16, 2020, from


Last updated: 5 Feb 2020
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