Grieving the opportunities, finance, relationships, joy and self lost to struggle

In the last of these three posts relating to grieving the life thought I had I want to talk about the deep sadness that I have. It’s over the gap between my potential and what I have actually been able to achieve. For me this disparity has been so difficult to come to terms with. My school reports were peppered with comments that other adhders will be all too familiar with.

“Could achieve so much if she would apply herself”

I was exhausting myself with the effort of getting my brain to tune into something that I didn’t find particularly interesting. Teachers were often infuriated by my variable performance and I couldn’t explain it. Constantly losing important things.

“Easily distracted and distracts others”

Under or over stimulated, trying to process a bombardment of social and sensory information that is being presented all at the same level of importance. Or, having grasped a new exciting concept quickly, failing to notice the normal speed processing of others.

“Never stops talking”

Anxious verbal processing and not knowing that when a class is asked a question who is supposed to be answering it. Particularly tricky when you are eager to please. In order to please though, you have to not answer the question the teacher has asked even though you know the answer, they know you know the answer and the time taken for a classmate to realise they know the answer has dragged on for eternity.

The report cards of the 1980s and 1990s in Scotland were not so positively phrased as they are today.

Superhuman effort

The effort I put into proving to myself and everyone around me that I wasn’t lazy or didn’t try hard left me with an eating disorder, burnout and a place at the best institution in the country for the course I chose. Looking back its really not surprising that I couldn’t make a success of it. I was exhausted, unsupported, socially out of my depth and everyone (including me) thought I should be able to do better.

The guilt and shame had when is came to an abrupt end was massive. I’m still annoyed to this day that the treatment I was offered still didn’t pick up the underlying issue. I know now that in the 1990s we still didn’t really understand the female presentation of ADHD. The misdiagnoses of anxiety and depression and the ever increasing medication just left me feeling like a broken zombie. The lack of feeling from the medication scared me. The resulting seizures lost me my driving licence, my independence and my enjoyment of life.

Money is the root of all evil

My problematic spending started at university. Free in the city with an overdraft, a part time job and a modest parental allowance I didn’t recognise that the shopping was an attempt to cope with the strains of my fledgling independence. The daily shift down the dopa-mine.

I have never got too far over my head. The fact that I didn’t start a successful savings account until after I turned forty is all the information you need!

Money presents itself to me a bit like time. Time is either “now” or “not now” and money is the same, I either have it or I don’t. I used to think this inability to prepare for future events, the drive to spend and the challenges that presented were character flaws. I’m much kinder to myself now I have some systems in place to keep money both “there’ and “not there”. Bank accounts with separately labelled buckets or pockets have been a saving grace here.  

Lost Relationships 

This aspect of my grieving process is perhaps the one that has shaped my view of myself the most. I truly had come to believe that I wasn’t a good friend. That people didn’t want to be around me because I didn’t give them enough space or allow them to feel seen. That when friendships ended or moved on that it was proof of my theory that I wasn’t likeable.  

There are a couple of different things at play here. One is that the walls I had built up didn’t allow people to see who I really am. Therefore they were conducting a friendship with a tiny portion of me. Another is that my troubles with object permanence (as mentioned before when it comes to money) extend to people too. If you are regularly in my life I will interact and be interested in your life. I’ll want to spend time with you. If you aren’t there then I either forget you exist entirely or worry myself into being unable to reach out. Perhaps thinking that you don’t like me any more.  

Another of my difficulties with friendships is working out who is a friend and who is a kind colleague or a manipulator. I don’t trust my own senses enough to be able to rely on them. I have spent so long trying to assimilate that it hasn’t been until recently that I’ve been able to tell the difference. The addition of some amazing friendships with people who don’t require me to be anything other than exactly who I am has helped here more than I’ll ever be able to tell them. 

You can’t say that! 

There’s also the added difficulty of saying the wrong thing at the wrong time. The breakdown of communication that shame won’t allow me to repair. The over sensitivity to rejection that keeps me from trying to mend fences. All the normal difficulties with adult friendships that are thrown into relief by tiredness, over commitment to parenting kids and their millions of activities and a full-time job don’t help! 

I am learning to recognise when I’m with people that don’t leave me feeling jittery and exhausted though. They are my people and I am getting much better at making sure I set aside time for them. A bit like in my savings account. I have pockets of time and activities that are invested in this most precious resource. 

Loss of self but finding joy 

I suppose in this way I’m also managing to find myself. To tune into what activities and people leave me feeling calm and happy. Finding those joyful and loving moments was definitely the gateway. I had to learn to do it alone before I could involve anything as unpredictable as other people! I do this in nature usually. On the beach or in the woods, swimming outside or walking in fields next to the river. I find myself when I’m lost in a good book or when I’m writing.  

Katherine May talks about the electricity contained in people. I understand that feeling but for me it feels like I am being inflated with their emotions. Like their fire may spread to my carefully tended self that I am trying so hard to keep from igniting. This is why finding myself is a mostly solitary endeavour with only occasional forays with those I have learned to predict well.  

I’m often angry about the amount of time I’ve spent being lost, confused and frustrated. I would love to be a kind and gentle soul and some days I can see her inside me. She’s in comfortable clothes, outside, alone with some awesome music stirring her emotions. The tears rolling down her cheeks as the music swells and the sun rises. I’d like to be her friend.