ADHD is my Superpower-Part 2

But it takes understanding to unlock the power

Hello, my name is Theresa and I’m an ADHD’er. (Hello, Theresa…)

Oh wait. I used that opener already. Whatever. Now where was I?

Super powers. Oh yeah, I was going to talk about my ADHD being my superpower.

In Warner Brothers terms of super powers, ADHD looks more like the dervish spinning Tasmanian Devil than Wonder Woman.

Well, since I no longer have boobs, flowy locks of hair, nor bullet shielding arm bands, Wonder Woman just doesn’t work for me.

Taz it is. I can totally relate to this spinney Australian marsupial, but I think my table manners are a bit better.

Don’t be fooled by my seemingly calm demeanor. Taz represents the shitshow in my head and I spend Herculean efforts keeping my stick on the ice.

But as I’ve reflected on my undiagnosed past, I also see the gifts that developed because of my chaotic brain and my attempts to regulate it.

First, I could spin 15 plates at one time and move from task to task like a hummingbird in a field of flowers, without breaking a sweat. Of course, there is a fine line between this and a panic attack. But in my youth, I pulled this off regularly.

I remember reading “Cheaper by the Dozen” as a kid and wanting to be like the efficiency expert parents in the story. Even from a young age, I was always trying to figure out how I could do tasks simultaneously and efficiently.

I see this now as my brain in overstimulation mode. But still there are merits to a busy brain.

Last-minute change of plans? No worries, I can roll with it. I’ll just rearrange the puzzle pieces for today’s plans.

You want that song in the key of F instead of G? Presto chango! Not a problem. Meanwhile, I’ve thrown dinner in the crock pot[TW1] while listening to an audiobook, strategized my shopping list according to the store floor plan and rearranged the pantry.

My joke was that I got more things by 9AM than most people all day. Talk about being wound up.

But I this is how I learned to organize and do it well. I will admit, this is the distinction threw me off the scent of an ADHD diagnosis. ADHDers are chronically disorganized, right?

Well, not unless said ADHDer learns how to bring inner peace by outer order. It’s a game for me to put things into place and get the little dopamine from my efforts.

The flip side? A cluttered environment brings anxiety to me. And studies show I am not alone in this. Clutter and anxiety go hand in hand.

This explains while I am a minimalist too. Fewer things = less clutter = less chaos in my head.

I keep my world small, otherwise I get overwhelmed.

These tendencies, er, ADHD symptoms, were manageable when I was in an environment that worked for me. I thrive where there is variety, order, and a flexible schedule.

Raising and homeschooling my kids caused me to up my game even more.

But there is a limit. And this is when the anxiety attacks started in my late thirties. The first one scared the hell out of me. It woke me from a sound sleep-heart racing, limbs literally shaking.

My doctor assured me it was anxiety.

Who me, anxious? WTF, Chuck?!

My religious paradigm at the time was to examine myself for the character flaws driving anxiety. Oh, how I wish I could go back to my younger self and tell her to go get an ADHD evaluation.

I couldn’t turn my brain off. Which brings me to the next gift from ADHD.

ADHD compels me to exercise. It’s been my most effective tool in calming my brain. I have always loved exercise and breaking a good sweat. I have always contended that the exercise was just as important to my mental health as it was to my physical health.

I feel this deeply. If I don’t get moving, my head feels like it will explode from overwhelm. Exercise mitigates that feeling.

It’s not because I’m so disciplined. It’s a coping strategy I learned and I’m grateful is a healthful coping strategy.

I credit ADHD with helping me excel at organizing. Oh, don’t get me wrong. I’ve invested a lot of education, trial and error and hard work in becoming an excellent organizer.

ADHD gives me a unique advantage in my work. When I look at a room or a closet and my brain begins whirring and showing me what needs to be moved where, as though it is a room-sized puzzle. It’s like in one of those fluffy mysteries where the sleuth can see things in plain sight the others can’t.

I can look at trouble spots and dream up three different ways it could run more efficiently and most importantly… maintain the order after an organizing session.

It’s my own physical manifestation of my inner attempts to self-regulate and clear mental clutter.

Coaching. Another thing that made me think… nah. I can’t have ADHD. I’m a good listener and a damn good coach too.

How can this be?

Back to the strategies I developed to keep from losing my mind.

When I am coaching, I am not just listening with my brain. (Thank goodness!)

I listen with the ear of my heart. It’s a Benedictine distinction. And since I trained as a Spiritual Director through a Benedictine monastery, I incorporate into my work, be it organizing or coaching.

What does that mean? It means I lean into my intuition. I listen for the silence in between the words. I pay attention to any sensations my body using to communicate with me. I observe body language and inflection. (These can speak a message that conflicts with their words!)

For example, I was working with a client who couldn’t let go of a mouse eaten comforter. In my head, I wanted to toss the damn thing in the dumpster and move on! But my spidey senses knew there was a story behind this tattered cloth. So, I paused as I searched for the right question. Or it may have simply been a “tell me about this.”

Holy shit. Spidey senses will not lead you astray.

The story spilled forth with tears. We honored the memory and the present moment. And then she was able to let it go.

That was a holy moment and one we would have missed if I stayed in my head.

I have had a strong sense of intuition most of my life, but have silenced it more than listened to it. Our culture and religious circles aren’t fond of such “nonsense”.

But yet intuition is one of the most brilliant gifts in a human! And I believe ADHDer knows this, uh, intuitively.

Let’s talk about creativity too. The most creative people I know have ADHD. And ditto for entrepreneurs. Writing and music are my main creativity outlets.

The ability to see new things and make new connections is a benefit of the unique wiring.

But of course, given the prefrontal lobe of an ADHD brain is underactive, this is where it gets tricky executing the plans and getting them over the finish line. The prefrontal lobe is where executive functioning takes place.

It’s sort of like an uptight secretary who is sporting a severe bun, a business suit and patent leather pumps that mean business. She keeps the office running smoothly and will kick your ass if you mess with the petty cash without providing a receipt.

The secretary in my head is a hippie who is easily amused, gets distracted watching people, and hates tedium. And she burns through the petty cash purchasing McDonald’s senior coffee. It adds up, you know. She likes gummies too.

For an ADHDer, the amount of energy to keep up “normal” when this critical part of the brain is gasping for air, as it were, is significant.

But perhaps it is because it does struggles is why these other parts of our brain kick in.

Understanding, effective tools, and if needed, medication, can turn ADHD into a gift, not a liability. It can get that tight ass secretary to perform her tasks while enjoying life a little more.

ADHD is not a defect or a disability. It is a neurological difference. Understanding those differences can bring great understanding and relief. And I am living proof that you can be diagnosed and treated later in life.

It is yet another angle on my Fresh Start life reboot.

Thanks so much for reading. You can find me around the internet at www.theresawinn.com, on Facebook, LinkedIn and Instagram. If you’d like to support my writing in a small way, feel free to contribute to my wishlist.