The ADHD Ripple Effect, Part 2: Depression
In Part 1 of this series, I described how untreated ADHD can lead to social anxiety. Let's start there:
Self-criticism consumes precious energy. When our mental bandwidth is already limited by ADHD, social anxiety eats away at it further, leaving even less available for focus and productivity. We may find ourselves spiraling downward into shame, feeling ineffective and living chaotically.
Now, include in our trail of regret every time we let ourselves or someone else down because we impulsively overcommitted without thinking through our priorities or managing our time effectively. We've fought with our partners about how we spent money we didn't have, left a mess that we remember making, or forgot to pick our kids up from daycare. We've been reprimanded or fired for being late to meetings, missing deadlines, forgetting instructions, and misplacing documents. The list goes on.
We may come to feel guilt weighing down areas of life that one would think should feel leisurely and pleasurable. ADHDers don't just look back and see failures; we look around and see unfinished projects. But do we even know the difference anymore?
Incomplete sketches. Rough drafts of screenplays. Half-stitched quilts. Recipes pinned but never cooked. Tools bought but only once used. Apps we downloaded, used for a week and forgot about. Books we read the first two chapters of eight months ago. Clubs we joined online but never attended. Wish lists and to-do lists and sticky notes, oh my! These blur together in our minds with memories of incomplete assignments and other issues with real-world consequences to the point where we feel bogged down with guilt and dread over a completely optional hobby.
We already have difficulty prioritizing as it is. But now, something we're not even getting paid to do carries as much emotional weight as a job with an upcoming performance review.
We forget that this is our free time and money we're talking about here. We feel too bad about all the things we haven't finished to trust ourselves to move on in any direction. And we think the only way we can redeem ourselves and regain the right to enjoy anything in life is if we can tie up every loose end we've ever left hanging. Our to-do list is a mile long and we can't rest until every item has been checked off. So what if item #282 on that list is "put water bill on auto-pay" and item #374 is "watch YouTube video Amber mentioned about bunnies in outer space?"
Oh, you poor thing.
Bunnies in outer space? Optional. Streamlining your utility bills to avoid late fees? Necessary. There's a difference. Knowing that is key to managing ADHD.
Maybe it's time to tell those bunnies to f* off. What business do they have being on your to-do list anymore? You wanted to watch them because it made you happy. If seeing the idea on your list now only makes you sad, because you're so pathetic for having such a long list and you can never do anything right and what the hell is wrong with you and you'll never amount to anything… there's no point in it being there, so get rid of it. You can always watch bunny space videos during your free time if it makes you happy. Hey, you remember free time? It's that time that you can relax because you have done all the things on your list. You know, the manageable to-do list that contains only the things that have earned a right to there. The one you can be done with at the end of the day. And feel relieved. And move on to things that are - as we mentioned earlier - completely optional hobbies.
You deserve a shorter list. Learning to prioritize means learning what to let go of. We can't survive if we ascribe an equal level of weight to everything we ever think of doing.
We've all been told that successful people power through and finish what they start. How true or not this really probably depends on a number of things, not the least of which include: what determines what "successful" means? And can creative types be included in this definition of success? Because I can tell you one thing for almost certain: I've never known a creative type who finishes everything they start. The most successful creative types have started hundreds, if not thousands, of projects for everyone that ends up yielding some kind of fame or fortune.
If I wasn't a creative type, I would always be caught up with my progress notes. I wouldn't be distracted by ideas for blog posts to write, songs to compose, apps someone should build (maybe I should pitch an outline?), or wait no, apps I should try out first before pitching a new idea, or, ooh, a new way to structure my calendar using this new app (while proceeding to neglect doing the things on my previous calendar), or sketching out some numbers for my friend to consider for their business (while neglecting my own accounting).
I don't love how my distractible, tangential, novelty-seeking, inspiration-driven mind results in me being perpetually behind on clinical documentation and other mundane necessities of adult life. But I'm not necessarily sure that I would trade it in. Because sometimes, when I follow those inspirations, I end up with a blog post like this. And sometimes, the things I write end up reaching people who need them. For every one post that I actually publish, there are ten drafts I've scrapped. Blogging and other forms of creative expression are not nearly as efficient a use of my time as being an uninspired automaton would be. But they're part of living life that is meaningful and interesting to me. When it comes to being creative, sometimes you have to take chances blindly, scattering seeds across soil without knowing which will germinate. You may even spend time tending to little seedlings that turn out to be weeds. So be it. A few of the many seeds sown will one day bear fruit. You won't have the energy to tend to the ones with real promise if you're too busy dragging yourself through the mud for those that never grew.
I'm not saying you shouldn't examine how your patterns of novelty-seeking have created negative consequences in your life, or try to reign in impulses. But forgive yourself for the unfinished quilt, the uncooked recipe, the unused tool. Extend yourself some compassion for the shame, guilt, and inadequacy that's gotten you bogged down. Figure out what in your life deserves to be taken seriously. Let go of the rest. Only with enough breathing room can we recognize what remains salient, and think clearly enough to solve the problems that are truly worth solving.
