Brutally Honest

During a recent morning at breakfast I rambled on and on about events at my job and other comments with which I hoped Husband would help me.

I noticed he merely continued to chew.

“Do you have any observations that might help me?”

“No.” He chewed some more.

I kept on with my chatter because I dislike eating meals in silence. Time once was that we talked a lot through meals.

Of course, in my candor, I must admit we talked mostly about him and his work stresses or his disappointment in his father.

Finally I asked, “Do you want me to talk about my work? Are you interested in listening?”

He said, “Can I be brutally honest?”

“Not if you are going to say ‘frankly I don’t give a damn’.”

“Well, I was going to say that, so I will say that I am not interested in what you do or the interactions you have at work.”

“OK, then. That’s all she wrote,” I said in a kind voice and with a sweet smile.

I quietly pulled the small imaginary dart from my heart where it often pierces somewhere behind the breast bone.

His face had a flat affect as usual. After all with ADHD, it is altogether about the person and not about the relationships – unless those relationships constantly support and uplift the ADHD person.

“You choose a topic, and we can talk about it,” I suggested.

“Did you tell me what the schedule is for today?”  Husband asked.

“It has to do with meetings I have for work. I don’t think you want to hear it.”

“I do want to drive around town with you, so tell me where we are going.”

So I gave him a brief time table.

We chatted about the number of people in our age range who use canes, and agreed we are blessed not to need that type of assistance, yet.

“Where do you want to go to church this Sunday?” I asked as I repeated the two choices he mentioned earlier in the week.

“We also have the choice not to go anywhere, so ask me Saturday. We will be busy moving you to your new office space this week. We may be too tired.”

“That’s fair,” I told him, hoping for a day of relaxation at home.

“Today is Free Pie Day. Are we going to take ours home?” he asked.

I nodded in agreement. After all, if it is free, we take it, right?

“Where are we going next?” Husband asked even though I had told him our schedule less than 10 minutes earlier.

I didn’t remind him of that because he is most concerned about problems he currently has with his memory.

As to my memory, which also fails at times, I distinctly remember that one reason I married him was for the frequency and depth of conversations we enjoyed. Before the way ADHD wore him down, before the days of medications, and during the years when impulsivity ruled his behaviors, we talked a lot.

In my brutal honesty, I admit I miss those days and miss the talk, even if it was mostly about him. It’s as if I am missing a significant part of him.

Does anyone else out there experience something similar with their person with ADHD?