Musings on Selfishness

Nobody wants to think of themselves as being selfish. I mean, yeah, we all have our days when we just think "screw it, today is going to be all about me, and I am going to revel in this momentary selfishness." But normally, we try to have a somewhat better opinion of ourselves. Except when we don't. Which, as it turns out, is all the time.

ADHD comes with so many pitfalls, some obvious and some less so. We parade around trying to convince ourselves that it's great how our minds can work so much faster, how we can accomplish so much more than the neurotypical in less time, how our brains’ operating systems lends itself to a special kind of creativity. But really, we know that this mindset is just a cover for massive insecurity.

I keep saying "we," but I really mean "I." So yeah, I am ridiculously insecure. And I'm beginning to suspect that I don't cover it all that well after all.

And so, going back to the first line of this post, I don't want to think of myself as being selfish. But really, I know that I am. It's not something I like about myself, and maybe it's less of what I know and more of what I fear.

ADHD lends itself to behaviors that come across as exceptionally selfish, with a side of ignorant, inconsiderate, and disrespectful. Consider those four words: selfish, ignorant, inconsiderate, disrespectful. They’re a laundry list of synonyms that all add up to a total dickhead. No one wants to be around a person like that, much less be friends with her.

I’m chronically at least five minutes late. I interrupt other people constantly, either through uncontrollable fidgeting or by blurting out whatever thought has just crossed my mind and couldn't possibly wait to come out. As a result, I frequently hijack conversations, or at least derail other people's trains of thought. In order to focus on a serious discussion, I need to keep myself occupied in a way that makes it seem like I'm not paying attention at all, usually involving crocheting or computer games. When I’m engrossed in something, I don't take kindly to interruptions; I'm usually not mean about it, just absent-minded. I've had entire conversations while reading a book that I don't remember later. My mother used to think that I was completely ignoring her requests for me to do chores even though I said I would, but really it's that I had absolutely no recollection of ever having agreed to load the dishwasher.

Just reading over that paragraph makes me cringe. Because, damn, why the fuck do I have any friends, let alone the amazing ones I've been lucky enough to find? My family is stuck with me, but what does this say about my husband? I feel like I've just uncovered epic levels of heretofore unseen masochism.

Logically, or at least on a good day, I know that this isn't a complete picture of who I am. I'm smart, I'm funny, and despite all of those misbehaviors, I'm actually a very caring person, usually overly so. And the people that love me are very tolerant of my quirks, and even tend to find them endearing.

But it's still there, the little voice in my head—the one that sounds like a combination of various grade school teachers, friends-who-actually-weren’t, and every iteration of "I'm not mad, just disappointed,” that I've ever heard. Years of excellent therapy have turned down the volume of that voice, but nothing can ever mute it. And that voice murmurs its insistent chorus, reminding me every day of what a selfish bitch I truly am.

Misfiring Mind

So here's the thing.

The fact that I was distracted from my thesis on Sunday morning was sort of funny. After all, I had until Monday to email it to my advisor.

And okay, maybe I didn't get anything done on it the rest of the day, but I had stuff to do. But since I only work until 12:30 on Mondays, I'd have plenty of time to bring together all of my research and reword all of my ideas to sound academic rather than the ramblings of a massively disordered mind.

Fast forward to Monday: I'm out of work and home by 1. I have every intention of powering my way through several hours' worth of writing, and am convinced that I can email a draft to my advisor by the evening.

Once again: Hey look, an internet.

By the time Jay gets home at 6 pm, I've accomplished absolutely nothing. I maintain my delusion that I'll be able to send my advisor SOMETHING. Monday doesn't end until midnight, right?

As of 12:30, I've spent about 10 solid hours on the computer, and poor Jay has been mostly ignored the entire night. I decamped to my bed around 11, convincing myself that if I was at least in the same room as Jay, I'd get something accomplished. I didn't.

Between 12:30 and 1:15 am, I managed to tap into my hyper-focus ability and write another two pages. I could've just emailed it to my advisor then, but no. I decided I'd wake up super-early and bang out another few pages before I sent it.

I failed at super-early, unsurprisingly. I dragged my ass out of bed around 9. I sent the draft at 10:19 am, having added another paragraph and a half. And I only managed that after I had a friend give me an emergency pep-talk.

I have absolutely no idea what I've done with the past 2 1/2 hours, but it wasn't my thesis. Somewhere in there I screwed around on Twitter for a bit and played a few games of mah jong. I think I managed about 20 minutes on the presentation I have to give at 4. And no, I'm not prepared for that either.

It's really hard not to be self-loathing at times like this. I'm supposed to be an adult, supposed to be able to get shit done without getting distracted by EVERYTHING.

It's now 11:46 and I still have to shower before getting to that 1:00 meeting. It's pretty much a foregone conclusion that I'll be late. Somehow, I don't think she'll be surprised.

ADHD vs. Thesis

At some point, I'll be making a post about ADHD vs. Grad School, but for now, here's a snippet:

Scene: 12:30 pm, Sunday "morning"

ME: Hey, I'm awake! And my advisor wants me to submit part of my thesis today or tomorrow so she can read it before our meeting on Tuesday. I should probably have something to submit.

*gives warm, cuddly husband an extra hug and dutifully climbs out of bed*

I'm up and dressed. Go me! Oh, better take that Adderall if I want to get any work done...

*gulp*

*sits down purposefully, ready to launch into super-effective writing mode*

ADHD: Wait, wait, wait! You can't possibly get right down to work without setting up everything perfectly!

ME: Excellent point. Let's set up the computer and organize the 72 books I'll need to consult.

ADHD: Brilliant plan. Oh hey, look! An internet!

10 minutes later

ME: Well, shit. I'm supposed to be working, aren't I? I should close all these tabs...

ADHD: ARE YOU CRAZY? If you close the tabs, we'll NEVER FIND THEM AGAIN!

ME: You're absolutely right. I'm sure if I just minimize the window, I can work without letting the tantalizing interwebs distract me.

ADHD: *nods sagely*

ME: So, I think an excellent goal for today would be to make a comprehensive outline, discussing where I would like each section to go. That way my advisor will see that I have an over-arching plan and that I'm not just writing about random crap that interests me. Then I can insert the bits I've written already, so she'll see that I've actually done shit.

ADHD: Hold on, before you can do that, you should make an outline.

ME: An outline for my outline?

ADHD: Duh!

ME: You make a compelling argument.

*writes out mini-outline and feels accomplished*

Clearly, this calls for a celebratory 10 minutes of internet time!

ADHD: Huzzah!

ME: But since I'm being all organized and driven today, I'm going to set a timer so I don't spend too much time.

timer goes off

ADHD: You know, the funny things about timers is how easy they are to turn off.

ME: Yeah, next time I should put the timer out of reach.

ADHD: Good plan. But since we've already silenced that pesky ringing, we might as well finish this story we're reading.

ME: ...OK. But that's it!

*finishes story*

ADHD: I have to go to the bathroom.

ME: No, you don't; we just went a little while ago!

ADHD: FINE, you got me. Hey, our nails are a mess. We should file them.

ME: Dude, they're not that bad -- oh, wait. That one's actually sort of sharpish, isn't it?

*fetches manicure kit*

*glances at clock*

Wait, how the fuck is it 2 pm? I haven't accomplished anything!

ADHD: Except the awesome outline-for-the-outline! Don't forget that!

ME: I begin to suspect that was less of an accomplishment than you originally led me to believe.

ADHD: Possibly. You know what you should do? Write a blog post about how distracting I am!

J: *stumbles sleepily into the room* What are you doing?

ME: (sheepishly) Writing a blog post about how ADHD is distracting me from doing work on my thesis.

J: *meaningful glance*

ME: I KNOW! SHUT UP!

ADHD: *giggles quietly to itself*

Who the hell is this chick?

Right about now, you’re probably wondering “who the hell this chick, and why should I bother reading her crazy-ass ramblings?”

In order: I’m Jen, and I have no fucking clue. There. Now that’s out of the way.

Oh, you’d like more details? Alright, if you insist. I just, you know, hate talking about myself. *cough*bullshit*cough*

Anyways. Moving on.

So, yeah, I’m Jen, an adult (technically, at least) with the ADHD subtype Predominantly-Inattentive.  And that, right there, is why I wanted to blog about my experiences and struggles with the condition. There are a ton of ADHD blogs out there, but from what I’ve seen, the majority of them are either designed with an educational/informational bent or are from the point-of-view of parents with ADHD kids. And they were, for the most part, pretty serious, which is to say, not that funny and in some cases, boring as hell. (If you've got any recommendations for fun/interesting ADHD blogs, please share!)

Putting it right out there: I’m not claiming to know anything, aside from my own experiences. Yeah, I’ve researched the shit out of ADHD, including treatment options, its history, and its various comorbidities. But that doesn’t make me an expert.

I AM NOT A DOCTOR! Nor am I a licensed social worker. I’m a freakin’ grad student in Literature.  DO NOT take anything I say as medical advice, because I’m sure as hell not qualified to give any!¹

So, if you follow my advice (not that I’m necessarily planning to give any), then you don’t get to sue me². Cool? Cool.

And I just realized that you still don't actually know anything about me. Except the fact that I lose my train of thought on a pretty regular basis - which you could probably have guessed from the whole "ADHD blog" thing. 

Other possibly useful information:

I'm 30 years old...and seriously, how the hell did that happen? I'm married to a guy named Jay, who is way too good for me - or at least, way too sane. As I mentioned above, I'm a grad student³, getting my Masters in Literature in June, 2012.  I live in the Boston area, sharing a microscopic apartment with Jay, a neurotic cat, a weirdly nocturnal parakeet, and some rapidly procreating fish. I have a huge family, which, most of the time, is pretty awesome. ADHD runs rampant in my family, so you'll be hearing more about them if you decide to stick around.

I'm goofy and unapologetically dorky. I'm sometimes overwhelmingly friendly and stupidly⁴ blunt. I'm not just an open book, I'm practically a freaking PowerPoint presentation. I can be overly sensitive, but at least I recognize that. I'm not really politically correct, but I do try not to be a dickhead, even though I don't always succeed. If you find something I say offensive, I probably didn't mean it that way; I sometimes don't realize how I come off. Just point it out, and I'll probably apologize⁵.

Well, that was quite a flood of information for you. Hope you were paying attention; there'll be a pop-quiz later.

PS: I'm a little too proud of myself for having figured out how to add footnotes. But just look at them, aren't they pretty?

---

^{1. I’m also not a priest. So don’t take anything I say as gospel either.↩}

^{2. Honestly, suing me wouldn’t get you very far anyways. Seriously, I’m shit-poor. If you’re really adamant about suing me for something, you can have my cat. But far warning: she's kind of a total bitch.↩}  

<sup>3. Further proof that I'm insane.↩
4. I also like adverbs, as you may have noticed. Even when they're not real words. Maybe especially when they're not real words.↩
5. But sometimes, I totally do mean it that way. In those cases, the apology will probably be something like "I'm sorry you found that offensive." Fair warning.↩</sup>

A.D.H.L.A.S.