There are days when I would say that my ADHD is a gift. Honestly, this is new to me, since for so long I went undiagnosed and just felt like something was terribly, awfully wrong, and I had no idea under the sun what it was. I would not have said that anything I felt was a blessing in disguise. It all just seemed to well…suck. When I look at other ADHD folks, and see so many creative geniuses, I feel as if I fall short. I’m not particularly intelligent (yes, I’m intelligent, but not much more than average), I’m not particularly creative, and oftentimes, I have a very hard time thinking outside the box, which is what I should be good at, right? As a predominately inattentive type, I don’t have this boundless energy to burn off, and most of the time I just feel unfocused, fuzzy, and like there is this buzzing chaos just under the skin that I can’t itch.
Things have been going pretty well for me lately. I should be in a good place. My daughter is holding her own right now, my second book just came out, I’ve actually been getting some sleep, and things have been well…even. No major blips or bumps in the road. That’s a good thing, right? It should be. It is. I’m happy. And yet, now is the time for the old face of impending doom to curl itself into the pit of my stomach. That feeling is no stranger to my ADHD and Anxiety Disorder self. I know it well. I just wish I didn’t. For the last couple days, I’ve had that antsy, nervous, “something is wrong,” feeling taking up residence inside me. I just feel like something bad is about to happen. It doesn’t mean that it is, it just means that I always expect it to. Whenever things are going well, that cold, ugly feeling creeps in and refuses to go away. That feeling that tells me something isn’t right; that something is going to happen. It seems I am always waiting for the next disaster.
It’s hard to explain to someone who doesn’t live with Anxiety or ADHD. It’s not like I’m just being pessimistic, or not grateful for the life I have. It’s not me being a worrywart over all the “what-if’s” in the world. No. That’s not it. It’s this deep rooted anxiety that has no real grounds. It has no real reason, it simply manifests itself and bores into my being. I can’t name a specific fear, I can’t name a specific problem. It’s like living in a constant state of impending doom. It’s like I can feel it in the wind or smell it in the air. I couldn’t tell you what caused it, or why it’s there, it simply is. Well, I want it to go away. Out of all the things that I despise about being Anxiety Disorder and ADHD, this one is the worst. For me, anyway. This irrational, unfounded fear, that is depression but not depression, anxiety but not anxiety, worry but not worry. This elusive, smoky haze that falls over everything.
I’m trying to look for the blessings in my disorders. I really am. I enjoy the hyperfocus that comes with my love of writing. I enjoy that I can laugh at myself and not take myself too seriously when I do stupid things. I like that when presented with a problem, or something I can’t do, I’ll work at it until I figure it out. I like being an empath, even though it can be draining. I don’t enjoy the gloom and doom feeling. I don’t enjoy the part of me that is paralyzed by socialization, I don’t enjoy the forgetfulness, the OCD that makes me check a million times to see if I’ve locked a door or turned off the iron. I don’t enjoy the messy house that I can never seem to get ahead of, or the mound of laundry that never seems to get folded. I don’t enjoy how clumsy I am with spoken words. I don’t enjoy the embarrassing flushing, or the fact that I can’t control my impulsiveness enough to lose some weight.
I want to be that upbeat person that offers hope to others. I want to be that person that triumphs over my disorders, and looks my anxiety square in the eye and beats it. I want to be. Today, what I am is a nervous ball of anxiety over things I can’t see and can’t predict. That is not the life I want to live. Who would?
So, what do I do about it? I honestly have no clue. I only know how to ride it out until the feelings recedes. It eventually comes back, but when it’s gone I can appreciate the fact that I feel like a weight lifted off me. Maybe it’s the fear of the unknown. Maybe the feeling of doom comes along when I know I have some decisions to make, or when I feel like I’ve put off making important decisions. Maybe it comes along when I have to deal with difficult people or a difficult situation. Maybe it really is a warning that something is out of whack and I need to pay attention. Whatever it is, it’s here. But it is an unwelcome guest and I wish it would leave.