In Honor of the ADHD Man on Father’s Day

This week offered another delightful opportunity for an interview on the Brett and Sierra Show, and we used it to talk about certain problems men with ADHD often face: completing tasks and meeting deadlines.

As Brett began the discussion, he asked, “How can the man with ADHD get those pesky irritating chores done without distraction or procrastination?”

First of all, the partner or spouse should avoid nagging him. Nagging does not help. Procrastination is problematic, and it is often an issue of time management.  Time management belongs to the area of organization, and mental disorganization is often common among men with ADHD. How we organize is personal, from our own inward way of looking at the issue.

Click to watch Dr. Atha talking with Brett and Sierra about men with ADHD!

The man with ADHD procrastinates because the task or chore does not warrant how he wants to spend his time.  When the motivation is strong enough, he will spend his time on it. I should go ahead and say that many men with ADHD do not procrastinate, especially at their jobs, because their own self image is tied to their careers.

Sierra then asked: “Why can it take longer for the man with ADHD to get into a project, not to mention  getting it even half-way completed?"  As an answer, I suggest that many men with ADHD have it all figured out in their minds how they want the finished project to look or how it should come together.  They have pictured it as a perfectly completed project. As they work on it and find they are not doing it perfectly, they become frustrated.

We can also place the blame on the twins Distractibility and Executive Function Challenges. I recommend that tasks and chores be broken into doable, bite-size portions where they will not seem overwhelming. The chore has to be done in stages anyway, so use that to advantage.  When the man finishes a small task or even one that is larger, he can be spurred onward by the feeling of success.

When interruptions  distract the ADHD man from a task, he can hold on to a physical artifact to remind him of what he was doing.  It will focus his attention more quickly, and help him return to the task. For example, a hammer in hand may remind him that he was working on a broken gate before he got interrupted.

The man with ADHD himself may also ask: “How can the person with ADHD deal with boring tasks or chores?”  It is important to see the significance in the chore such as cleaning the garage or changing oil in the car.  One man links a seemingly insignificant chore with time to listen to his favorite music. His busy work schedule allows little time for his music, but by choosing a couple of chores each week, he schedules a date with his music and headphones, and meets two goals in one setting. The beauty of music is good for the brain, helps lower blood pressure, and provides a super background companion.

Another man might ask: “What make good incentives to begin and complete a task?” The answer to that will be most personal. The tiniest thing can be a huge incentive to complete a sizeable task. “I’ll treat myself to a favorite snack when I get this done, “ one man might say. Another’s wife offered tickets to a baseball game when he completed a much-needed house repair. Of course an incentive can be huge if the task is highly important. One person promised himself a new motor home if he got his tax information to the account before the deadline.  Needless to say, he had been wanting a motor home for several months, so it worked well for him to link it to getting his taxes done. 


For more about men with ADHD or to view this interview, follow the link above or visit our website, coachadhd.com.

New Mercies We See

This morning, I was thrilled when Julie, our worship leader, invited the congregation to sing the favorite old hymn, Great is Thy Faithfulness.

My friend, Patty, and I usually tell each other when we sing it in our separate worship services, so I thought I would be texting her to say that we sang it. Instead, I’m sharing it with my readers.

“We’re going to sing all three stanzas,” Julie said. And then the pianist played through the chorus as we prepared to sing. Of course, Husband sang the words to it as she played.

He doesn’t sing or whisper in a quiet voice, and when he got to the last two measures, where the words are “Lord, unto me,” he changed the words, ”Sing all three verses.”

I laughed loudly and continued to laugh as the others sang “Great is thy faithfulness, O God my Father.”  I mean it; I laughed a full chuckle and my shoulders shook. It was a splendid moment.

It was all I could do to concentrate on “There is no shadow of turning with Thee.”

Husband ignored me and sand with gusto. He glanced at me as if to say “What?”

When he gets into a song of any genre, he sings with gusto as if throwing his full soul into the words and the music itself.

This is the man I once knew, many years ago, before depression robbed him of spontaneous, impulsive retorts and comments and humor. “Thy compassions, they fail not. As thou hast been thou forever wilt be.”

It’s been several months since this side of him as shown its face.  Is it the new antidepressant? He claims he doesn’t feel much different since he began taking it this week, but I see glimpses that indicate something positive is happening.

If it’s not the new medication, possibly it was the clear bright white sunshine that accompanied us to church.  I hope it is a combination of both.

The song was perfect for today’s moments: “Summer and winter and springtime and harvest, Sun, moon, and stars in their courses above join with all nature in manifold witness to thy great faithfulness, mercy, and love.”

If the depression lifts even a small amount, it is a reason to rejoice and thank God for our tremendous psychiatrist and the chemical knowledge known to raise the natural compounds in his brain.

But if it doesn’t lift much, there is always reason to thank God for the doctor and God’s generous goodness to us. “Great is they faithfulness. Morning by morning new mercies I see.”

Today’s scene was a new mercy for the day. “All I have needed, thy hand hath provided.”

That’s it in a nutshell. All we have needed, God is faithful and willing to supply it. And that can mean a quick impulsive humor or the joy of a hearty laugh.

I share today’s moment for all my friends who are persons with ADHD and who also struggle with depression of any degree. At McNay & Voth ADHD Services, we desire to encourage persons with ADHD and their families in their daily struggles. We invite you to contact us, so we can help you identify a moment God has provided for you.

 

 

 

VBS 10 Months Early

“Hmmm, I guess they haven’t changed that sign for a while,” I mentioned to Husband as we drove past a neighborhood church.

“What sign do you mean?”

“The one on that church we just past. It says VBS June 9-14. Today is August 8.”

“What makes you think they haven’t changed it? Maybe they are 10 months early,”  he said with his characteristic smirk.

I took a few seconds to pause and ponder what he said. OK, this was one of his jokes.

“Oh, my goodness! I guess you are right. I always fail to think that far ahead, “ I teasingly agreed.

“I know. That’s because you aren’t blessed with ADHD.”

“True,  I ‘m not. I don’t think outside the boundaries like you do.”

“I concur. It’s part of my ADHD creativeness. I just see things from a different perspective than you and most people.” He said it with a stoic blank expression, but he couldn’t hold a straight face for long; he laughed at his own wit. 

I readily agreed with him again. He often thinks in totally different directions than I do. Maybe it’s a male v. female issue. Maybe it’s because he has a quicker sense of humor.

No, I think he was right. His ADHD processing skills gives him a completely different capacity and perception.

It’s inconsistent that he mentioned planning ahead. Here is the man who seldom plans 24-hours ahead other than for going to work or church.

“How peculiar that you would see it as planning ahead.”

I saw that familiar grin cross his face again.

“Well, yes. That’s because it wasn’t I who was doing the planning. I merely reacted to their planning.”

“Does that mean I shouldn’t get my hopes up that you have seen the advantage of planning ahead?”

“Who said they had the advantage for planning ahead? I am the excuse-maker. I know all the comments for justifications or explanations. It’s one of my ADHD talents.”

In essence he said, after all these years, don’t get hopeful that he has improved his planning skills, and as I think about it, I would be foolish to ask him to reinvent himself. He wouldn’t be himself.

If it’s a choice between planning ahead or being witty, I choose the latter. I certainly don’t want him to stop being clever. We’ve endured many months of depression when he looked at me with a blank affect or expression, and during which times he had little humor and didn’t even laugh at our humor. I choose his comic, off-handed comments any day over struggling, pushing, and upholding him while in the depths of despair and despondency.

“So” , I asked, “Are you telling me it is far better to justify an out-dated sign with the explanation that it is actually ahead rather than behind?”

“Sure. I learned that from Mother. When she didn’t get her Christmas cards mailed before December 24, she waited until the following April or May to mail them. Then she told people she was merely early with her cards for the next Christmas.”

You do know, don’t you, that ADHD has a strong genetic link?

 

 

 

Transferable Skills

For nearly two weeks, Husband stomped throughout the house complaining and even yelling because he had not heard from a potential employer.

“It’s been 10 days, and they said they would phone by now. I know the doctor didn’t find drugs in my system other than the meds I showed him. It’s my previous employer. They must have said something bad about me.”

Of course he said other words that I choose not to print here.

“Are you kidding me?” I asked in my calmest incredulous voice. “They can only verify that you once worked for them.”

Husband doesn’t even get speeding tickets, so he has no criminal record. I was potentially at-risk for one, though, as I thought about turning him over my knee to spank him.

“Give them time. The HR person may not be as anxious about you having a job as you are.” I said.

The crux of the matter is that with being retired, Husband was most ready to have some sort of part time employment.

As I said in my last blog, waiting to get this job nearly drove both of us to desperation.

Of course, within the symptoms of ADHD, what else is new?

But then the answer came that he wanted to hear.  If he could have kissed the feet of the man who hired him, he would have done so.

With the same mouth that cursed and doubted, he walked around the house praising Jesus for a positive answer to prayer.

Then the anxiety began.

“I have to read and understand this training manual. I need someone to demonstrate these responsibilities for me. What if I mess up?”

“What bothers you specifically? Can I help you as you study the manual?”

“Possibly that would help, but what do I know about this work?”

“You‘re expressing only negative thoughts. You would do well to think more positively thoughts. You are more than intelligent enough to do the work.”

I reminded him of his transferable skills, which are skills we learn in one area that we can use in another. Here are just a few of his transferable skills: results oriented, can meet the public, good computer skills, good hand skills, arrives at work on time, team player, and he can calculate and count money.

“I never thought of me in that way,” he said when I talked these skills and several others.

“I pray you won’t let the lay-off from three years ago cause you to doubt yourself and your abilities. It’s a matter of showing up each day and doing the routine. You can learn it easily. ”

Like many children and teens with ADHD, Husband often heard negative statements and questions that caused him to develop negative self-talk patterns: Why did (didn’t) you do that? Get your head out. Try harder. You are lazy (silly, stupid, a smart-aleck). The comments go on and on. As a person with ADHD who was diagnosed later in life, Husband demonstrates self-doubt and anxiety in many new situations because his self-confidence is quite low. He is convinced others will criticize him for the least little mistake, and he benefits from praise and encouragement more than a typical person.

So do most of us.

 

 

 

 

Life After Retirement

I was sitting at the kitchen table one morning in October, 2010, when I saw Husband walk up the sidewalk to the front door.

As he opened it, he saw the question written across my mute face.

“I got laid-off this morning. I am officially still employed until December, but I have too much proprietary information in my head. They walked me out to my van, and I cannot go back for my personal belongings until they call me.”

We had been expecting this type of news off and on for many years. After all, Husband worked for the aircraft industry, and over the years, many people have been laid off from aircraft.

This time, it was 700 workers who lost their jobs. Many had decades of experience as did Husband.

“I guess 36 years of loyalty didn’t mean much to them,” he complained.

“Let’s go out for breakfast,”  I suggested because I wanted to take advantage of the fact we could.

Throughout the meal and the ensuing long drive in country surrounding Wichita, he tried to put on a brave face.

It didn’t work well. “I am embarrassed that they walked me out.”

“Were you the only one?”

“No, several long-term employees, men and women, got walked to their vehicles.”

“Hmm, sounds like a compliment that all of you knew a lot about the business. It wasn’t directed only at you.”

Still it deeply hurt his feelings in a way not related to ADHD. Of course, ADHD didn’t help when it came to his recognizing that lay-offs are distributed without consideration of the individual employee or skills of practice. It was difficult for him to filter out the fact that the lay-off was not directed at him personally.

“I would like for you to help me in my office. I can’t pay a salary right now, but I can take you out to lunch each day, and you can help me grow my business.”  I suggested.

“What would I do? I don’t know your business.”

“You have excellent transferable office skills that would benefit us as we develop.”

He liked the part about going to lunch each day, but he didn’t like having to refocus his skills. He played Free Cell much of the time.

He officially retired and applied for Social Security. He felt a bit better that he still received income. I have to give him credit; he continued to look for employment that would not interfere with Social Security benefits. In the mean time, we spent much time together in a routine and structure created by my work and teaching activities. He had structure, exposure to light, and when he would walk with me, he exercised.

“I know what I’ll do, “ Husband told me a few weeks after the lay-off. “I’ll go back to school and earn certification in another field.”  He enrolled in online classes to begin his studies. I was proud of him for making a proactive decision.

It worked as long as my office remained at home where I could help establish structure and help him focus on his tasks. However, when I rented office space away from home where I could meet clients, his enthusiasm for online learning quickly dissipated.

He told his doctor he wanted nothing more to do with school. Maybe he would work in the kitchen at a local hospital. I attempted to discourage that choice. I know that his ADHD, impulsive comments, and quick temper would not be a good match for that type of environment.

His doctor suggested freelance writing. I groaned inwardly because I knew who would be writing the articles, and it wouldn’t be him.

In a way typically of persons with ADHD, he exploded with loud outbursts of temper and anger caused by his frustration. He applied for a job with the turnpike authority, and they called him back for an interview. They didn’t move quickly enough, though. Waiting to hear from them as to when he started the job nearly drove him to distraction and me to finding a different place to live. Finally, the storm calmed down when he began training for the new position.

As my dear friend remarked, “It’s a shot in the arm for him.”

Of course, when he lost his job, he lost part of his personal identity as do a majority of workers when they lose their jobs. It is a painful experience, but we are moving past it. Has it taken a long time, and does ADHD complicate the healing? Of course. The part we can walk away with stems from the fact that healing can happen, and life can continue after retirement or job loss.

 

 

 

I'm Hungry

Per my usual Monday morning routine, today I woke early to post weekly grades and feedback for the college classes I teach online. I attempt to make as little noise possible so Husband can continue to sleep.

Who am I trying to kid? I really do not fear he is going to wake. As a matter of fact, I know he would sleep until nearly noon if I did not give him some incentive for waking and facing a new week.

It’s just how it is.

You might know how it feels to waken feeling empty.  Yesterday I ate very little, and this morning, my body kept saying “feed me.”  I continued to work and complete my morning goals as extensively as possible, knowing I should include Husband in breakfast plans.

Finally I went to our bedroom and said, “Get up so we can decide if I am taking you out to breakfast, or preparing breakfast here.”

I am rather certain the only words he heard were “I am taking you out to breakfast.”

He sat up without much prompting and hurriedly got dressed.

“I’m starving,” I told him.

He didn’t respond as he took his morning medications, and within minutes we were facing each other across the table at the restaurant.

We eat breakfast there so often, the waitresses know that I drink ice tea with lemon, and that he often orders it, too. It didn’t take our waitress long to place our order.

However, Husband thought it took an extremely long time for her to serve it. “I am starving and hungry,” he said with that constant flat expression in his eyes.

Where humor or other emotion once danced, these days nothing-much has taken their place.

I just looked at him. No response, no message on my face. I merely stared back at him.

“I know. It’s all about me, right?” he said.

I thought, “Had it not been for you, I would have eaten breakfast hours ago.”

Instead, I said, “I’m listening to you. I think your meal will be here shortly.”

In the meantime, we both tried not to listen to the man in the booth behind us. He talked about being cheated when he mowed lawns as a kid. He told the waitress that his sister could pay for his meal. He droned on and on about various jobs he’s held over the years, and they all seemed negative.

We discovered he was still single, and his sister and brother-in-law didn’t seem to like him much. He was not a pleasant experience.

The thought came to me, “He makes your handsome and refined Husband look pretty good, huh?”

I recalled how we spent Mother’s Day yesterday with our wonderful children. They are the children he helped me raise and the bright, witty adults who continue to bring joy and delight to my heart. They are his off-spring.

Sure, he seems rather selfish much of the time. I know that his ADHD might lead to further mental illness through depression or other break down in his brain. Yes, I will continue to provide incentives for him to awaken early enough to enjoy the day, and if means delaying when I breakfast, so he can sleep, I will likely do that, too.

In my own selfishness, I may continue to complain at times.

 

 

 

Dance Like No One is Looking

Husband picked me at work about 8 P.M. last Tuesday, and I asked if he had eaten supper.

“No, I’m kinda hungry.” He has a way of rolling his eyes toward me when he hoping for an additional offer.

“So where would you like to go? I’ll take you out since you are driving for me.”

“Let’s just go over here to Jimmie’s Diner. It’s close, and they have pancakes.”

Pancakes have always been one of his favorite staples. I know he is not feeling well or is feeling depressed when he refuses pancakes.

This night he was in a more normal mood. Besides Jimmie’s has a long standing in our personal history. It used to be called Kings-X after Jimmie King.

Kings-X holds a vital role in Wichita’s dining history.  In 1938, King, a cook for the old White Castle Hamburgers, which also started in Wichita, bought several of White Castle stores and opened one of the finest hamburger, milk shake, and breakfast traditions ever seen in the city.

Forty years ago, Husband and I went to Kings-X for many breakfast dates where he ordered the five-star special including fried apples. I know he knows his pancakes. It suffices to say pancakes and Jimmie’s means much more to him than a simple and inexpensive breakfast meal.

Jimmie’s utilizes a 50’s theme where waitresses wear pony tails, poodle skirts, and when they can find them, saddle oxfords. The restaurant follows the Kings-X tradition of being a type of neighborhood place to eat.

Best of all they play pop tunes from the 40’s and 50’s.  Diners don’t even have to get out of their cars before they hear the blast of oldie tunes and rhythms such as Purple People Eater, Only You, and The Stroll to name only the first three that come to my mind.

This night, Husband’s eyes lit up as we pulled into the parking lane. He didn’t even wait to get out of the car before shaking his head and gyrating his shoulders. His blood was starting to pump, and I think he was tapping the pavement as soon as his toes touched it.

“Is it speaking to you?” I laughed.

He didn’t even respond. As I rounded the front of the car he was already striding into the building with his head slightly down and his feet crossing over each other in a Stroll. He moved his shoulders, arms, and hips in fluid motion in time with his feet.

He never minds that the entire world may be watching because he dances as if he is alone in the universe.

“That’s the man I know,” I encouraged as he smiled and winked. I’ve seen him dance in public many times, and even have pushed away when he grabbed me to dance with him in the aisle of a grocery or drugstore.

Happy moments like this don’t often crop up these days, but for a few minutes he reverted back to the young man I married, full of humor and ready to clown around.

Depression doesn’t often let him be that jovial person, but I consider it a blessing that for a short time that evening, he danced, enjoyed his pancakes, and remembered other instances of what went before. He was dancing as if no one was looking.

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?