Every morning, I wake up and worry
What's going to happen today?- The Eagles, The Best of My Love
One of the great things about coming to grips with ADD is becoming aware of all the obsessive, self-destructive, and self-defeating behaviors I've engaged in for...well, my entire life. After the diagnosis and the decision on a course of treatment has come the process of taking stock, of honestly assessing and coming to grips with all the myriad ways I'm somewhat, moderately, or thoroughly (&^%$# up. I'm trying to find the humor wherever I can, because I'm tired of crying over the wreckage I've left behind over the years. I've come to realize that I have to somehow be able to laugh, because crying isn't going to change anything...and I've beat myself up far too much over the years as it is.
My type of ADD comes with a side order of anxiety and an extra helping of depression. When I say anxiety, I'm not talking about your common, garden-variety stuff that most of us deal with on an everyday basis. Anxiety is, after all, part and parcel of the human condition. No, I'm talking about the OMIGODIMGONNALOSEMYJOBANDMYHOMEANDILLDESERVEIT!!!! sweaty palms, racing heart sort of almost paralyzing fear that something horrible is about to happen to me- I JUST DON'T KNOW WHEN. I'm realizing that I've lived my entire life in fear of...well, you name it, and I've probably feared it. Because of this, I've lived pretty much every day with a dark, brooding sense of impending doom. Imagine going through life feeling as if a metaphorical Sword of Damocles hangs over your head 24/7/365. Welcome to my world, eh? Even when I'm enjoying something, lurking in the back of my mind is the certainty that this will eventually go away, to be replaced by something horrible, unspeakable, and that I'm thoroughly deserving of.
Even worse, if I've run out of things to worry about and obsess over, I'LL MAKE THINGS UP. The fear, and the adrenalin produced by it, functions as a tool to focus my thinking. Yes, it's a damn poor and horribly ineffiecient (not to mention tremendously stressful) way to escape my usual scatterbrained self, but it's amazing what the human mind can adapt to when it feels threatened. The fear, and the anxiety that doubles as its traveling companion, has over the years become a perpetual-motion machine, a mechanism that's efficient, durable, and capable of fueling itself. It's like a Lamborghini traveling at a consistent 180 MPH while never need to stop for gas or routine maintenance. I'd be a rich man if I could build ANYTHING anywhere near as efficient and durable.
Because of this constant state of anxiety, and the sometimes paralyzing fear that accompanies it, I seldom ever feel like an equal in any situation. Work, relationships, what few friends I still have- these should all be places where I can feel on something resembling solid ground. Yet more often than not I find myself obsessing over and living in mortal fear of things that are...well, patently silly when you get right down to it.
Writing about it is helping me to understand and process the things I'm learning about myself. With a growing sense of self-awareness comes numerous "Oh, my God...." moments, when I step back and look at what I've done to myself over the years...as well as the toll it's taken. ADD is not my excuse, but it does explain a lot about why my life has unfolded as it has. It provides a framework for coming to grips for why I am the way I way.
It would be easy to feel unlovable and thoroughly damaged, but I've spent too much of my like that, and I'd really like to find out what it feels like to think differently. I suppose the first step toward fixing a problem is admitting that you actually have one...and Lord knows I've got a big one.
People with ADD tend to be notoriously poor self-observers, and that certainly seems to have been true of me over course of my life. Perhaps if I can learn how to be more conscious of how my behaviors impact not only myself but also those around me...well, maybe there's hope for me yet, eh? Stay tuned....
