I took drugs. It did not go well.
Imagine you’re on a train going 753 MPH. If you don’t make it to the next stop on time, you die.
This is what being on ADD meds felt like.
Did I get all my stuff done? You bet your fucking ass I did; I didn’t have a choice.
The drive thru was an absolute terror ride. I imagine this is what it’s like to be in the movie SAW. If the task doesn’t happen, you die. Let me see if I can explain.
The drive thru was talking an A C H I N G L Y long time — like abnormally long — I was with a friend and we were going to grab food, then go watch the sunset at a park a few miles away. That was the plan. Here’s how that went for my brain.
Friend, telling amazing, life-impactful story (which is one of my favorite things about said friend — all of them, I mean, come on, storyteller...). Normally, I’d have just enjoyed the time and the story and the sun setting over the minivan in front of us and absolutely drenched myself in the moment, the beauty of it, the magic of the story, the kiss of the Summer/Fall air on my skin, the smell of bacon wafting through the open windows, the myriad of colors being painted across the sky and mountains, the easy creep of cars, the nuances of my friend’s body as he told the story, the impact of his experience, the emotion, the richness, the tapestry coming together with each word.
What happened:
Brain, cataloguing story details and discarding what didn’t pertain to the task of getting our food--like sifting through a giant stack of papers looking for a certain one. And doing it at a frenetic pace. Is this it? Nope. Next. This? Nope. Next. This? Nope next nope next nope next nope next nope next. Every bit of data was weighed against the task of getting food so we could cross that off and get to the drive to the park. Nope next nope next nope next nope next.
And while this nope next was happening I COULD NOT stop focusing on the car ahead of us. More data. Did it move up? Nope. How about now? Nope. Now? Nope now nope now nope now nope now nope now nope.
And while nownope and nopenext were happening I COULD NOT stop focusing on the map in the dash making sure I knew the FASTEST way to get to the park. My brain NEEDED me to know WITH UNPARALLELED CERTAINTY what direction to go after completing Task Food. Turn right, thru the light, turn right. But the whole trip wasn’t on the dash and MY BRAIN COULD NOT HAVE THIS LEVEL OF UNCERTAINTY. So it was computing what would happen every time we inched forward in the drive thru. Turn right, thru, right, straight for 6 more inches. Right, thru, right, straight 6 more right thru straight right thru straight right thru straight now nope nope next nope now right thru straight now nope next right thru straight nope next
For. The. Entire. Drive. Thru.
I don’t know how long it took us to get our food; maybe 20 minutes. In any case, an extraordinary story’s worth. My reaction to the friend’s story felt forced — I was grasping for a response that seemed appropriate from the heaping pile of nope next surrounding me, frantically searching for tidbits of details from my discarded pages of his story.
My heart, that place from which I reside and dream and breathe from couldn’t come up for air, held beneath the surface of the water by my brain, so intent on getting us to the next task so we didn’t die.
I’ve only started trying to overcome my ADD as an adult now that I’ve learned I’m not “normal;" that my inability to stay on task isn’t desirable, that my executive disfunction is a result of low dopamine, not laziness. But in fixing one thing, I’ve broken another. One I’ve spent almost 50 years perfecting, reveling in, touching every sense with a richness and tactile overload that is an abundance of data worth noting and delighting in, holding as much of it as possible in my outstretched arms until I can’t possibly add another bit, laughing in the way it swirls around me in delicate colors intermingled with bold richness and savory velvet tones, reacting not from a sense of obligation but from a place immersed in truth and feeling. I FEEL my way forward through my days, I am push and pull and sway and dance, I am jump and twirl and sit and look, I am stop and smell, and wander and touch. Do I get my list done? Not usually. Do I get critical things done before the deadline? Always. Am I efficient? Not usually. Do I find different pathways as a chaos cartographer that no one else sees? Every. Single. Time.
I’ve built what feels like a successful career “managing" my ADD in a purely GenX I’ll-figure-it-out-myself way. It’s resulted in magic (and to my clients — millions). Would nope next now nope right thru right straight now nope have been faster, easier and more productive? Maybe. But yuck. Seriously. How gross and devoid of beauty and richness. Brain would have discarded a lifetime worth of data that I’ve treasured along the way.
If we diagnose children early and they don’t get to spend a lifetime like I have, letting heart breathe and swim in an ocean of connection will they ever truly know the beauty of a story? A sunset? A summer kiss from evening air?
Will they even know what they’re missing?
What if “normal" was less about accomplishing life as a human DOing and more about living life as a human BEing?
