Tag: ADD

I have been accused of being Neurotypical

Not a poem needed a bit of a rant. So here it is.

Now that was a new one. My first proper Twitter tiff … after 10 years or so not bad I would say. The person had asked why I didn’t like that us rainbow-brains (ASD, ADHD, Dyslexia, Dyspraxia etc) are called learning disabilities. So silly me did not check their profile before answering–otherwise I would not have. They make a business (speaker and writer) out of their ‘learning disabilities’, which is fair enough in principle. Being a champion, promoting strategies and support, and being able to use this to support your living is wonderful.

In principle.

It turns sour though, the moment this champion-hood becomes a tokenistic self-proliferation. And the person was so eager to pick a fight so show to the world how much they defend their corner, that they never even bothered to click on my Twitter profile, which clearly has the hashtag on it. And immediately shouted in typing–you know the way internet trolls do this, telling me off for not having a learning-disability. (I agree I have ADHD and clearly this has not stopped me from learning). And then went immediately into some sort of abuse aimed at one of the people they so prolifically claim to defend and support–and sell their books to.

One of the things I thought was interesting was that their first reaction was to state that there is no shame in that medical diagnosis. Hm. Strange. I have not mentioned shame or anything. I think learning disability is an outdated term, that implies a deficit discourse, and is not a helpful framing of the amazing world of rainbow brains. Anyway, shame was not on my mind, but on theirs. Now I can only see two reasons:
first is that this is a go to phrase for their business brand as the defender of neurodiversity or
second, that they actually do feel shame and hence the emotional overreaction to the points I made.
If the latter that would make me feel sad but also once again makes my point that the terminology is not helpful.

The other aspect I wondered about if the label of disability is good for their business as it helps them to continue the discourse of victimisation, and hence justifies them as a defender of the weak, the meek, and needy, instead of empowerment. And the deficit model this is based on works much better as a marketing tool (I need to add in their specific case, because of their business, not as a generalisation)? Am I being too cynical? The only reason to keep the disability label would be for legal protection and right to support in the workplace. But I so loathe the label. Why are we so keen to put people into shiny tiny boxes? Why don’t we celebrate diversity and make sure to create a society that is more accessible?

Failure Poetry

So the last couple of days I was at a conference and one of the key note speaker made us either draw a picture or write a poem. Yeah of course I wrote a poem. The caveat was it had to be a poem about failure. And as you might know I always struggle with the failure discourse around having ADHD so my poem focused on that:

I fail to adhere to
Rules
Expectations
Norms
Often

Don’t ask me to
Squish
Wiggle
Squirm
Into

A place that doesn’t fit
Let me dance in the falling leaves
Ride on thunderstorms
Weave webs of compassionate togetherness

But do not
Not ever
Put me on a leash

#ADHD Way of Life

(c) Nathalie Sheridan
(c) Nathalie Sheridan
(c) Nathalie Sheridan
(c) Nathalie Sheridan
(c) Nathalie Sheridan
(c) Nathalie Sheridan
(c) Nathalie Sheridan
(c) Nathalie Sheridan
(c) Nathalie Sheridan
(c) Nathalie Sheridan
(c) Nathalie Sheridan
(c) Nathalie Sheridan
(c) Nathalie Sheridan

11 ADD (ADHD) Frustrations

1 Spills

When you covered half the house in towels to dye your hair
And the dye finds 10 uncovered square inches to drip onto and stain for ever

Why can I not just be clean and tidy? It’s not that difficult! Come on.

2 Bruises

When you ram full force into the edge of a wooden bench adding to innumerable bruises on your legs

Why did I not see that? What’s the problem with me?

3 Time

When you don’t know why it took you 1,5 hours to walk half a mile and what happened.

By the way: time–what’s all that about anyway?!

When you check your watch every two minutes on the way to an important meeting and arrive half an hour early.

This is just embarrassing.

4 Forgetting

When you just forget TICK to moisturize, check your emails, that apple in your bag, where your coffee cup has gone, what he just said, TICK oh and that sandwich in the bag, and that you put your dishes to soak in the staff kitchen…two days ago, TICK and now you are home in bed on a Friday evening, oh oh oh I meant to read this article, cut your nails, where that gum in your bag came from– it’s TICK soggy and the wrapper has dissolved, paint your nails but forget the second hand, to say good morning, to answer a question…

The most successful people have routines, and stick to them! Yeah. Sure. They don’t forget what they had decided to—oh bummer I was meant to call the dentist.

5 Messy

When you have various drinking utensils TICK spread across the house because you forgot you already had one; or you TICK need one for coffee, one for water, and a herbal tea would be nice, too … TICK oh and look there is Fentimans lemonade. We don’t have enough cups.

I love photos of tidy houses. I adore tidy houses. I feel like I am in a battle every single day. So far the war has not yet been won by me. It makes me feel inadequate.

6 Awareness

When someone less assertive asks you for something TICK in the middle of a conversation and it does not reach TICK–oh my pencil is so nice and smooth, TICK look how the lines change depending on the pressure I use; it looks really grainy; can I make the grainy go away, and make the drawing smooth?

I literally do not hear it. It’s not even that I ignore it. It never reaches the spheres of consciousness. I am so ashamed. I do not want to ignore someone.

7 Talking

When you hear yourself talk obsessively TICK but you can’t stop. If I try to stop my head would explode. Seriously, like in Dogma when God speaks. I am still talking about something really important TICK work related, probably over-explaining some theories. And this is the best movie-ending ever! Meph. Love it. O.k. colleagues are taking notes and I think I am TICK done with talking through the 3D mindmap in my head so the physical pressure in my head and my tummy-pain are gone. Meph. TICK Seriously, so funny. Is this how to spell mep?

I wish I could stop. I try sitting on my hands. Taking notes in old scripts. Doodle. And I still will interrupt someone in the middle of their sentence. 

8 Memory

You find yourself desperately digging for any recollection of the thing that less assertive person mentioned TICK in the middle of a conver…It’s so great that most of my colleagues, look straight at me and explicitly state what they want to know or to do. This clock is so damn loud.

By the way: ticking clocks in all offices? Have you ever heard of Chinese torture?

TICK TICK

TICKTICKTICKTICKTICKTICK

SCREAM

Yes. I actually took Alzheimer tests online because it is so bad. The memory. TICK doesn’t help.

9 Clumsy

The glass just slipped out of my hand, and yes the alphabet noodles on the kitchen floor look as if a dictionary committed suicide. I swear just yesterday that button was there, under this tab … I don’t know where it has gone. TICK

I should just set up cameras around the place for some good old slapstick.

10 White Noise

The white noise in my head so loud. Desperately trying to catch something that has a shape, a smell, a colour, a sound, a story, an emotion. Something, please something tangible. More input drowns in noise. My skin feels as if the epidermis is missing. It burns; there are too many smells, feelings, noises, faces, colours encroaching. I love semicolons; they stand for flow; there is never truly an end to a sentence.

So anxious. Painful. Scary.

11 Anxiety

Panic. Team away day. Means: a night spend running ptsd like flashbacks of faces, snippets of communication, bowling alley: do you want to kill me with sensory overload? Coming out of the underground in Time Square (NYC), breaking stuff in Rock Cafe shop into which you fled to have time to figure out which way is up, collapsing in ASDA finding yourself on the floor, your ears ringing, it’s all flashes of colour, smell, light, noise. The world began to wobble. My place within the noisy wobble became lost. The ground is reassuring.

Mindfulness. Gym. Knitting. Music. Writing. Drawing. Dancing. Singing. Just going out: up the mountains, into the hills, into the freezing sea, on the bike, on my feet. All that helps.