Some mornings, this brain wakes before the body attached below it.
Many mornings, the brain explodes into motion before any coffee gets brewed.
ADHD brains are already awake, humming through sleep-deprived nights, with constant mental collisions; blessing, or maybe curse?
Focus self-interrupts with a rush of new ideas or distractions. Not occasionally. All day, every day. Medication helps steady the daytime/workday focus, but personality wiring is largely set early in life, though circumstances can shape behaviour.
Ideas arrive like uninvited houseguests, or celebrity entrances; some charming, some demanding, all refusing to leave quietly. Somehow, I’m seized by it, as both host and hostage.
Things collide.
Every day, new sparks, new shiny bits, and distractions stream like a meteor shower on a cloudy night.
I know it’s happening, but I can’t watch the show.
For my ADHD brain, these moments bring measures of delight and derailment. Burst of dopamine here, unexpected detour there; a perpetual tug-of-war between focus and fascination.
By the time we reach puberty, much of this is baked in. We can polish the edges, but rewiring is rare. So it’s about learning to live with it.
Better yet, lean into it.
Not every collision will be a colossal calendar crash or relationship-killer. Some moments, as chaotic as they might be, are medicine for all ills.
Some are the best part of the day.
This might be true today. Copious volumes of coffee will be involved.
Case in point: this morning.
I’d been waiting impatiently for my session list for next weekend’s When Words Collide writers’ conference in Calgary.
Last year, I suggested adding professional introductions for presenters. Earlier this spring, I was told the idea had been adopted. A few weeks ago, I was promised the details. None came. Yesterday, I was told I’d be the emcee for 15 sessions. Yikes. Where, when, who? This morning, at precisely 7:02 a.m., the list arrived.
And a change!
So, add that prep work to the weekend’s already daunting pile of delayed and delicate decisions. A double-shot of dopamine before breakfast. And just like that, my neat little plan for the day was joyfully wrecked. The workload didn’t shrink. The weather outside didn’t change. But now I’ve got introductions to prepare, performances to plan, and amid this planned weekend chaos, it feels oddly like home.
Rarely easy, but familiar.
Each time I meet someone who might be a new collaborator, client, friend, or more-than-friend, I’m reminded that too often I talk too much, make simple things far too complex, or fail to deliver on time. No excuse, but it explains part of the challenge of knowing and working with me.
It also explains the fun and excitement of doing complex, near-impossible things — and doing them well. In moments when self-doubt might visit, I reach into my reminder file; proof of the best things I’ve done, so I can steel myself for the dream/nightmare roller-coaster that awaits.
Knowing I’ve done it before, coped with this kind of messy-fun life all my life, what could stop me from enjoying it now?
Sometimes, these collisions are the best part of the ride. If you’re going to be overwhelmed, at least be overwhelmed by something you love, or with someone you love. Bonus points if/when you find both.
P.S.: not 15; now it’s 17
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