I had a strong reaction to this yesterday because we were dealing with a specific memory of abuse related to my mother’s inability to handle having a child with ADHD. My mother did not know I had ADHD and just expected me to do the thing and listen and perform perfectly without support. I had been left alone at age 16 when they left the house to live somewhere else and my Mom came back maybe once a week to check on me. She had a list of every chore I was expected to get done and because I was dealing with a lot of crap, not the least of which was coming to terms with the fact of my own abuse from both my parents, it didn’t get done. So one day, she came home and laid into me as usual and I fucking snapped. Maybe something about the experience of largely making it on my own made me realize I didn’t actually have to stay. She wouldn’t let me take my car, so I walked to the nearest payphone, called my grandmother, and never returned until months later, with a police escort, to get my things. Within a few months I would be legally emancipated and trying to manage shit on my own.
Despite the devastating effects of my ADHD on my childhood, I was not diagnosed until age 34. I flew under the radar for many reasons, one of which was my excellent performance at school. And that was one of my mother’s favorite bullying tactics. You do so well in school, you have no behavioral problems there, surely, surely you are not paying attention on purpose. Surely you are careless and forgetful on purpose. Surely you are lazy, entitled, selfish, nauseating, and a failure who will never make it in life, and surely I’m going to kill you one day if you don’t get your shit together.
Once I was diagnosed, it cast my childhood in a different light, and I was able to get medication and start addressing my problems. But it has taken me years of concerted effort to learn to manage my symptoms. I am wildly successful at my current job because of the flexibility of my schedule. I honestly don’t know how I would be able to handle the typical strict rules of a workplace. But right now I can do my work whenever I am able to as long as it gets done, and I am highly respected in my field. My CEO, who does not know about my disabilities, recently told me that she used to be skeptical of flexible WFH schedules, but my success has changed her mind.
I think there are a lot of people who cannot work full time or who cannot work a regular 9-5 who are sitting on disability benefits because the system will not really accommodate them. I think it is better for these people to have generous accommodations than it is for them to sit around doing nothing. I understand that not every job can accommodate every disability, but many can. I think a person arriving 15 minutes late to work sometimes is better than a person who can’t get a job and is doing nothing but sitting at home.
I think alarms do help some people with ADHD but for me personally they are not a foolproof measure. I’ve found the most effective ones are the ones that vibrate strapped to my wrist. I notice that one probably 75% of the time. What works best for me is keeping to a specific morning schedule so that I am ready the absolute earliest I need to leave on any given weekday. My schedule is different every day but my mornings are all the same. Calendar reminders have saved my ass more than once.
All that said, I was talking to my husband and he said my mother was a tyrant and even a neurotypical child wouldn’t have satisfied her. And I thought about it and realized my Mom made everyone miserable whether they had ADHD or not. So maybe my ADHD didn’t cause my abuse. I am feeling better about it today.
I know this is long but I don’t know how to better lay out exactly where I’m coming from.
My son who is autistic almost certainly also has ADHD and while I sure as fuck am never going to attend a job interview with him, I’m not going to shame him for the way his brain works. Yes we have to teach our children that the world will not bend to their issues all the time, but there are good ways and bad ways to do that. My Mom chose the bad way. I will choose the good way.
I think this woman is mistaken for expecting understanding and compassion from the world at large, specifically for such a stigmatized and misunderstood disorder. But one thing I have learned is that I can extend compassion to myself and my son in my own private universe, because I really have no problem creating a “safe space” for my son, if he’s going to be safe anywhere you can bet it’s going to be at home.