I Didn’t Write a Book in Quarantine but I Almost Had a Breakdown (and still might)

Quarantining at the Ritz in Atlanta makes everything better.

Ever wonder where the time goes? I’ve been gone for a bit. Like 6 months. It wasn’t on purpose. Quite the opposite. I’ve missed writing so much. I’ve missed my tribe of flamingos (y’all) even more than writing. So I’m back.

I thought that when everything closed down in the pandemic I’d have plenty of time to follow Gwyneth Paltrow’s obnoxiously self-righteous advice & finally write a book or learn another language. Maybe I’d get more thoughts memorialized on the internet, formulate my next business moves & get closer to saying guh-bah to Corporate America.

However, if 2020 has taught me anything, it’s that life doesn’t go as planned. At all. I mean, I already knew that but the events of this past year reminded me, like that time I knew the door frame was there but kind of forgot until I smacked into it with my face. So, Gwyneth can take her unsolicited directions for living a vapid, unrealistic life & shove them up her flat arse.

When schools moved to remote learning, kids weren’t the only ones thrown off their routines. I had a hard time adjusting, as I’m sure many parents did. I was incredibly blessed to have help from my mom. She came over every day for a few hours to help with my youngest while I attempted to not get fired from my job. But my son knew that mom (I) was close. The demands on my time and attention went from high to overwhelming overnight.

My ability to juggle my job, housework, cooking, cuddle time with my kiddies, pets for my pups, self-care, and time with my hubs dwindled to pathetic. Like watching a one-legged horse run a race. I was not winning. In fact, I was drowning. We all were. But with the isolation we were in, it was hard to gain perspective & get reassurance from friends over cocktails or dinner out like we could before. Why was I falling into a black hole of failure & loneliness?

I’ve always struggled with time-management and anxiety. I’ve always been a “daydreamer” and easily distracted. But over the course of my 39 years, I’d learned ways to cope with my short-comings & pretty successfully. I’ve worked my way up to a global leadership role in my career. I’m happily married to someone who is incredibly organized & structured to compliment what I’m not. My kids are healthy & well-adjusted (probably). All of this despite my constant urge to do and go and move and look and oh! That’s shiny! It was manageable when everything on my plate was compartmentalized. Now that my worlds were colliding, I couldn’t keep up.

Before the pandemic, when work or family obligations became overwhelming I would get up and take a walk or drive myself to Target for an hour of aimless but blissful aisle meandering. But where before I could get up and walk around for a minute to clear my mind with work, I couldn’t do that with the new construct of virtual school. If I took a break & my son saw me, it was over. “Mom! Come here!” Or “mom, how do you spell ‘from’?” One “small” question would turn into 30 minutes of him trying to figure out how to get me to do his work for him instead of me being on time for my next work meeting.

Instead of being able to load the dishwasher between calls to keep the housework moving, I was (and still am) a lunch lady & a janitor & a technology troubleshooter & a counselor & a principal & a teacher. Oh! And a Director of HR for a global company managing recruiting & talent management & DEI & total rewards & engagement & a team of people & anything else that might come up (that’s what she said). How da fuq does Gwyneth expect me to find the time to do anything other than keep my kids alive? How bout she stick to her life & keep her stress-inducing, unrealistic expectations for herself… Kay? Thanks, bye, Gwyneth.

After a long attempt at self-discovery to try to uncover why I couldn’t keep up with life, I started researching possible reasons I felt so lost all the time. I was making more careless mistakes than usual. I was zoning out in the middle of conversations more than usual. I was talking over people more than usual. Then I ran across an article about ADHD in adults. Embedded in the article was a quiz. The purpose of this quiz was to see if the reader answers the questions in a way that is consistent with someone who might have ADHD. A score of 25 or higher meant you may want to talk to a doctor. I scored a 36. Seems a little high? So I made an appointment with a doctor because the internet told me to.

That appointment led me to take a quotient test. Apparently there are various ways to assess ADHD. I expected to walk into an office, speak to a doctor, maybe answer some questions & leave either with a diagnosis or confirmation that I just needed to get myself together & figure out how to be a functioning adult. That didn’t happen. None of it. At all.

What’s a “Quotient Test”? Well, if you’ve never experienced it, you’re not missing out. It’s weird. A nurse took me back to an innocuous-looking, generic room. It looked like it could have been any non-medical office. The nurse then sat me down in front of a desk with a computer & strapped a band around my forehead. Ok, what tha face? Is this a joke? Nope. No joke. The middle of the band had a metal ball attached. The nurse then calibrated the computer screen with the metal ball so that the computer could monitor my movements. Apparently people with ADHD move more than most people. Go figure.

The purpose of the test is three-fold. Measure hyperactivity, test my level of impulsivity, & determine how well I maintain focus. The test lasts 20 minutes. After confirming that my phone was turned off & all distractions put away, the nurse started the test & left the room. A series of patterns popped up on the screen. With a clicker in my dominant hand, I was charged with the task of clicking the button when the pattern repeated. Simple enough. I mean, I passed pre-k at the First Methodist Church of Louisville in Mississippi when I was 4, so… yeah.

I started off strong. No problem. This is easy! But about 5 minutes in, the air conditioner kicked in. There was something making a flicking sound & I couldn’t figure out where it was com- ugh. I missed what shape that was. No problem. I’ll get the next one whe- wait… this desk has drawers. Is that part of the test? Am I supposed to open them? Maybe there’s a key that opens a box & then I win a prize! Nope, not why I’m here… I don’t think… wait- did I miss another shape? Is there a re-test?

After the 20 minutes, the nurse scheduled a follow up appointment for me to speak with a doctor about my results & showed me out. The following week I had my appointment to get my results. A PDF of my test results showed my level of hyperactivity, how impulsively I pushed the clicker, and how often I lost focus. The test I took monitored all three. The headband tracked micro movements that are consistent with people who have ADHD. The patterns displayed tracked my ability to accurately focus on the patterns, & the timing of the clicker tested my impulse control.

On this particular test (I can’t speak to every test, but this was my experience), a score in each category of 1.5 or less is consistent with those who do not have ADHD. The graph went up to 3.0. Must suck for anyone at 3, ammirite??

First up, we discussed my results on focus. I scored a 1.1. Phew. I’m normal. Boom. Dodged that bullet! Next 2 should be a breeze. I knew this was a waste of my time. Let’s move on. She then walked me through the results of my impulsivity. On that I scored a 1.8. According to the doc, a 1.8 on one category with all other categories below a 1.5 wouldn’t necessarily mean ADHD. Ok, so it’s not necessary indicative that I have a brain wired by a cross-eyed electrician. I’m sure it’ll be fine. What’s next?

Last but not least, hyperactivity. Remember how I stated that the chart goes up to 3.0? Well… I scored a 3.6. That’s right. I’m off the chart. Literally. All those times I would get in trouble for fidgeting or tapping or squirming. Never sitting down. Being labeled as “expressive” as a nice way to say, “whoa! Chill da fuq out!” All the times I speak over people or interrupt because I get SO EXCITED to be a part of the conversation. My first marriage. (Kind of a joke but not really at all). There was a reason! I wasn’t trying to be difficult or rude or defiant. Maybe now, at the age of 39, I can learn how to manage it! So now what?

The doctor immediately recommended medical intervention by way of prescriptions, even though I was clear that I had no intention of going on medication. Not because I’m against it- my husband works in medicine & I know it can and does work wonders for people. However, I’ve lived almost 40 years with this. I just needed to know what I was up against. I know it probably sounds crazy. But I like my quirks. The thought of turning that part of me off is terrifying. I just want to learn ways to help myself manage life a little better. I want my kids (who absolutely have this as well) to see that it’s possible to be successful & thrive with ADHD & even use it as a strength.

Is life overwhelming for me? Yes. Do I manage stress well? No. But I’m working on it. We all have things we have to overcome. Every one of us. It doesn’t mean we’re incapable. Quite the opposite. What we overcome helps to make us who we are. I was always under the impression that my biggest weakness was only growing to 5’1”, but then I bought my kitchen stool so… I’m invincible!

Here’s the thing: I made it through school, including college at the University of Georgia in four years with never REALLY learning how to study or how to take tests well. I made it through flight attendant school. I made it through Corporate America. I’m happily married to my best friend. I’ve seen my name in lights and brought laughter to crowds of people. I get to raise two of the coolest humans this earth has ever seen. So I have to work a little harder. If I get to experience more of what I’ve already achieved, bring it. I’ll nail that, too. THAT’S WHAT SHE SAID!

Marilyn Monroe once said “Give a girl the right shoes and she can conquer the world”. Nope. If I don’t have the right shoes, I’ll learn to do it barefoot. That’s what I want my kids to learn. No one is born with every tool they think they need to succeed. We have to learn to adjust & adapt. It’s part of being resilient. It doesn’t mean we stop dreaming. It means we learn to dance to the music in our minds, not the music being played for us.

So in 2020 I learned that foregoing Starbucks to pay for a house cleaner every once in a while is worth my sanity. It’s called delegating. I’ll never be organized on my own so I’ll ask for help from those who are. Now I just need someone to help me remember to write things down on my planner & then look at the planner so I don’t forget I have to get my daughter to basketball practice tomorrow. Anyone? No? Oh well. At least I’m pretty! Pretty messy.