You might have noticed that there are a lot more before photos on my blog than after. There is a good reason for this. It is because I am married to a man with ADHD. Seriously. I kid you not. And as funny as this post may turn out to be, sometimes it is just not that funny in real life.
There was a time when I wondered what made someone think like my husband does or more importantly, do the things he does in the order in which he does them--or not. There was a time--not so long ago--that I took the things he said and did way too personally. That was before I read the book, Driven to Distraction.
Now that I know for sure, beyond a shadow of a doubt, that he does, in fact, cope with this disorder every minute of every day, I am nicer to him. I think. At least I try to be. I am telling you that it is not always easy.
For instance, last Sunday, Michael and I were having a conversation. That in itself is rare because of our schedules and his disorder--I didn't call it that, it just is. He mentioned that "one of these days" he was going to build a shed in the backyard. He was going to build a shed because he is going to turn the garage into an apartment. Note here that there already is a vacant apartment above the garage that is in need of some work. The *new* me showed a small amount of interest--not really excited about it and not really against it. I know the effect of both extremes. I was trying to keep the conversation going while keeping my *real* opinions to myself. As if he didn't already know them.
When we were finished talking about the shed that would *someday* be built in the backyard, I understood *someday* to mean when he had all the materials (which we can't afford right now) and the jobs that were already started around the house were completed (ceiling, bathroom, hole in wall, the rest of the shutters, etc.).
On Monday, I came home from school to this:
This is exactly what ADHD looks like. I hope you are laughing. I think it will help me if you do. I am told that these walls have been built for some time and stored in his shop around the corner. He knew very well that *someday* would be sooner than I thought. And therein lies the frustration. Throughout the entire conversation, he knew the walls were already built. That would be because he had built them--instead of finishing the ceiling or bathroom or hole in the wall or whatever else he had started.
And that is just the way it is.
Day in and day out.
Year in and year out.
And hear me when I say that I know that it is not personal--even when it feels that way.
I am not a professional and cannot begin to explain the disorder the way the authors of
Driven to Distraction do, so get the book if you live with or know someone who copes with this. It is chock full of personal stories and insights that will help you cope with it as well. What I can do, though, is share some of my personal experiences in hopes of encouraging others to make an attempt to understand it better.
I want you to know that I did not get mad or even upset on Monday when I saw the new construction started at my house. I actually laughed and grabbed my camera. To me it is just one more confirmation of the diagnosis. And that diagnosis is no worse than diabetes or near-sightedness or high blood pressure. They all require something to help the person survive and thrive in this world. They are conditions or disorders--but unfortunately, the last three are more scientifically understood and therefore more respectable and able to evoke understanding and compassion.
I intend to tell just a few personal stories about living with ADHD over the next few weeks, but today I want to start at the beginning.
I have often wondered why God called me to work at Cornerstone Academy. I had been a stay-at-home mom and was not really looking for or wanting a job outside of the home. I had homeschooled for 14 years and would have been quite content to do so until Tessa had graduated. While I do believe I am appreciated and needed at the school, I honestly think that one of the main reasons God called me there was to
show me what my husband's world looks like through the life of a little girl. I will from here on out refer to her as LG for little girl, and although I may include random photos of the students for interest, she will remain anonymous.
I knew LG before she came to the school, and I genuinely liked her. You might say that I had a soft spot for her. She was just a little girl--with a sweet face and a big smile. Yes, I knew her reputation: impulsive and energetic and talkative. So? To me that made her interesting. Of course, I had never seen her in a school setting. I really didn't have any idea. It was a good thing, because I
loved her before I knew what she was capable of or incapable of as it turned out to be. And I loved her family as well.
LG motivated me to research ADHD--a disorder that up to this time I kind of pooh-poohed. After watching her struggle and witnessing what were very appropriate consequences again and again for her actions, my heart broke. They rarely helped the situation or changed the behavior. I wanted her to succeed, and I made it my personal mission to help her succeed. In doing the research, first online and then through books like
Driven to Distraction, I unlocked the mystery of my own family. It was quite clear
to me after just the short online test, that my husband had severe ADHD and my son, ADD. Yes, I know that an online test is not a professional diagnosis, but stick with me.
My son actually was ecstatic to learn that just maybe there was an explanation to why he had focus issues. If I had only known sooner, perhaps I would not have taken all his resistance in high school so personally. But that is another story.
What God revealed to me through the process with LG was that at one time my husband was just a little boy with a sweet face and a big smile. At one time he was just a little boy who was impulsive, energetic, and talkative--a little boy who deserved to be understood and loved. He didn't understand why he did the things he did any more than LG understood why she did what she did--again and again. And that changed the way I looked at him as an adult.
In the case of LG, I took a big risk when I approached her mother with the information that I had learned. Armed with just one quote from the book, I prayerfully, presented my case in hopes of encouraging her to get LG whatever she needed to succeed--eyeglasses so to speak.
"They don't inhibit their impulses as well as other people. They lack the little pause between impulse and action that allows most people to be able to stop and think."
In her mother's defense should you be inclined to judge, she had been told by *professionals* that LG's problems were discipline-related. Don't get me going on that one. Discipline was being consistently applied, and it was not working. All were miserable--including me, and she wasn't even my child. Let me just say that you cannot spank ADHD out of a child. You cannot time-out ADHD. You cannot withhold anything that will make ADHD disappear. You just can't. Yes, I know I'm not a professional.
I also shared a specific incident with her mother that I had witnessed, and I encouraged her to read more and seek another professional
evaluation
. She agreed to read and pray about it. I will include the incident here just to show you what I am talking about. I was observing a class in which the teacher was having the students glue beans to a surface. She explained what they were going to be doing and then specifically told them what they were not to do with the beans. LG was engaged in the activity and was enjoying herself. This was, after all, a hands-on project that would normally appeal to a person with ADHD. Out of nowhere and unprovoked in any way, LG picked up a bean and threw it in the direction of the teacher.
Since I was nearby, I asked her with my eyes about bugging out of my head, "What were you thinking?" To which she replied, "I don't know." She looked as shocked as the rest of us. And I do believe it was totally sincere. The thought went through her mind after the teacher said it, and then--l
acking the pause between the impulse and the action--she threw the bean.
Imagine how a child feels when she receives a consequence for something that she doesn't have any control over. Imagine how you would feel. I go back to the eyeglasses. Why do we think it is okay to give a child with vision problems the tools for success, but we don't give the child with attention and focus problems the tools for her success? Can you tell this is my bandwagon?
Let me wrap this up by telling you how the story ends for LG. Mom and dad took her to another professional and received an official diagnosis. It was difficult--very difficult. It was also freeing. I cry as I write this because today, LG is experiencing greater success because she has been given the tools she needs for that success. And when she struggles, the first question isn't what consequence should we give, but are we sure she has what she needs to succeed in the situation. That does not mean that she doesn't misbehave; she is, after all, still a child in need of much training. It does mean that she is no longer punished for her disorder. And that is reason enough for me to rejoice in my calling to Cornerstone.