I Should Have Told Them Off

Thinking of how poor self esteem and other uninvited enemies hurt my youngest child in the past, I want to jump up and down and scream. I might even shake my fists.

Poor self esteem is a huge issue for many children with ADHD, especially girls. For one thing, we tend to overlook ADHD symptoms in girls. They don’t cause enough trouble. For another, girls with ADHD often do not realize why they don’t perform or behave like their peers. They express being confused.

Recently I discussed this issue with my own daughter, Anna, who is a woman with ADHD.  Now that she is grown and successful in many areas, she gives me many wise perspectives on what it is like to be ADHD, female, and to live with a low self esteem.

Watch here as Dr. Atha, Brett, and Sierra continue their discussion on ADHD. In this segment, they discuss the effect ADHD can have on a person's self-esteem.

I’ll let her tell her it: “I constantly felt like I was being teased. I mean most people can tell themselves they are awesome in some fashion. I couldn’t.

“It was always ‘You don’t do this right, Anna. You don’t do that.’”

She gave me an example from her 6^th grade year in middle school: “I was wearing my sweatshirt inside out. That was the style that year. I overheard Andrea, who I thought was my friend, telling another girl that she didn’t like what was on her own shirt, and the other girl suggested she turn it inside out.  Andrea replied that she thought it looked dumb to turn it inside out. ‘Anna has her’s inside out,’ said the girl. Andrea said, ‘Anna is a huge dork.’ Of course it added to my hurt feeling and poor self-image.

“I didn’t know that in a few years she was going to be popular because she screwed every guy who asked.”

Anna paused before she said: “I should have told her off right then, but it is difficult for a person to do that because of being so sensitive.”

I knew she was saying that the girl with ADHD will not likely hold up for herself due to her low self esteem and lack of confidence.

“Maybe I was super sensitive. Or do other kids target ADHD classmates more?”

I reminded Anna that she was always an intelligent student who did well with her grades. I know she worked at keeping her focus to the point she totally wiped out emotionally by the end of the day.

“That’s just it. I was not hard to be around. Sure I made silly comments in class, but I wasn’t sent to the principal. Up to my freshman year I was shorter, and when I did gain height, I didn’t want to be taller because I lacked the self-esteem for it.”

As her mother, I recall how often I intervened for Anna, and when I think of those times, I still want to punish others in her defense.  I can only hope some of those so-called school classmates have matured a bit now they are 30 years old. I hope teachers and a principal grew wiser, too.

In high school, Anna’s intellect caused teachers to respond well to her. They asked me what I did to raise her to be such a quality person. She had good relationships with them to the point she called them only by their last names (Hi, Copeland), and they seemed to genuinely like her.

But high school teachers could do little to improve her social acceptance. The pattern had been established long before in the kindergarten class. I monitored the class setting many times because Mrs. McCarty did not like little girls who wiggled and squirmed.

Anna tells me: “Persons without ADHD have the wrong perception of people like me. And people like me experience loads of actual teasing, and because they are sensitive, they are genuinely hurt. In high school I jumped from groups of friends, never having a steady group I called my own.”

I wonder if this is true for many persons with ADHD. I hear it often from young adults and even older adults with ADHD. They often feel friendless. Totally friendless.

“Comments came from a certain set of other students.  I should have told them to f-off. I had the language; I just didn’t have the confidence.

“I didn’t recognize that other high school kids were insecure. I didn’t know they didn’t matter.”

Likely many of us didn’t realize that other high school students didn’t matter, but our emotional intelligence helped us realize that we would eventually move forward without for their acceptance.

I suggest that girls and women with ADHD have a difficult time moving on, and the pains associated with low self esteem continue to eat away at personal confidence

She Thought I was Weird

“I’ll be writing to teens with ADHD about love and romance this week,” I told Husband. “I am trying to decide if I should write about something from your life or to teen girls in general.”

“I like the idea of your writing to teen girls in general.”

“That may be best, but before I leave this conversation, I want to ask you about the time you bought candy for Anna, your high school classmate.”

He knew I attended elementary school with this same Anna, still sadness and pain crossed his eyes for a brief moment.

“When you gave her the chocolates, what did she say?”

“She gave them to her friend standing next to her.”

“She gave them to someone else?”

“The other girl brought them over to me and said I should keep them, and I shouldn’t try to do it again.”

His face registered his sense of rejection.

“You mean on Valentine’s Day, she couldn’t have merely thanked you and moved on with it?”

“It was her birthday. I overheard someone say it was, so I thought I would buy her a gift.”

“Why did she do such a cruel thing?”

“She thought I was weird. Once I blurted out a comment in class, and she turned on me with a vengeance. She was an intelligent girl in English class, and I thought she was smart, that’s all.”

“So you admired her, and she thought you were weird because of your ADHD symptoms?”

“That’s likely it.”

“If I was going to write about teen girls with ADHD, I could write about times Baby Sis felt rejected due to her ADHD symptoms. She didn’t experience the same types of rejections. She did always think people were talking about her behind her back.”

But I kept on, “I am angry Anna hurt your feelings, but she was acting on information as she knew it at the time. The point is not to blame another person. It is the point to know that ADHD symptoms may not contribute to good relationships. Teens and adults with ADHD should learn behaviors that contribute to relationships, not impede them. Besides, I am glad it was me, not her that realized the treasure within you.”

I once told my husband that as a young man, he was often in love with love. Many scholars now bear it out: persons with ADHD can hyperfocus on romance because doing so increases dopamine which increases pleasure-producing neurotransmitters. But that does not necessarily create love relationships. The person with ADHD and his or her partner must take ownership of ADHD by treating it responsibly to manage the symptoms, increase dopamine, and help the brain work as it is supposed to. It is imperative persons with ADHD learn how to override the challenges of ADHD behavior and build the positive skills needed for lasting intimate relationships.

If you need help in this area, allow Dr. Atha the opportunity to assist you as you seek confidence in romance and love.

Contact us today at McNay & Voth, www.coachadhd.com or 316-771-7558.

 

Celebrating Another Anniversary

We had not really celebrated when our second anniversary on the actual date. My Dad died three weeks before, and my Mom came to stay with us a few weeks. On the actual anniversary, we took her with us to a nice restaurant.

For me that would have been enough, but I am blessed that Husband is a true romantic.

Weeks later, Husband suggested we try a real celebration with dinner at a favorite dreamy spot.

“Let’s go the Holiday Inn Plaza downtown,” he suggested. “We can have salads and split-pea soup.”

I rubbed the baby bump that seemed to be growing every day and thought of the first-born child we expected in less than one month.

“I think I can handle that,” I cautioned. “Foods like that should be OK for me and Bingo.”  I referred to the nickname we affectionately called our child.

“I remember the night I took you there on our first date, the second time around.”  He tends to treat such memories with undue emphasis on the feeling and with excessive nostalgia, but that is fine with me. I love being the focus of his feeling. “I remembering being wound-up with the thought of us being together again; I really wanted to take you to a nice place.”

And it was a nice place for the early 1970’s. The backs on the wicker chairs were exceptionally tall and curved toward each other, making a canopy over the table. Each setting was private and cozy.

“I like the service there,” I admitted, still thinking if salad and pea soup would settle well with my condition. “I think there will be room for my belly.”

“Afterwards we can drive around on a lengthy tour of the city and county just as we did on that other night.” He looked toward the ceiling where he viewed the vision of a long car ride.

“One or two differences between now and then,” I reminded him. “I was not pregnant and needing to stop for a bathroom, and we had not seen each other for several months. Now I have to go frequently, and we have been talking every day for over two years.”

“ Good. You like the idea.”

We chose a lovely fall night that had a bit of a nip in the air. I clearly remember wearing the cape I made to accommodate my expanding body. I flapped along like a bat on growth hormones.

The Plaza was built with a kiva-like lower level leading to the restaurant, symbolizing our Native American roots in Wichita. I handled the steps well without having to actual crawl down them, and we stepped inside the warmth of the lobby with anticipation.

Husband wore the purple denim jacket I made for him our first Christmas. “I like that you wore that jacket. It still looks very nice on you.”

“My wife made it for me.”  He said it with pride.

Settling at a table with memories rushing through his head forced Husband’s brain to race like a car.

“Did I ever tell you what I did after that first date? I went home and told my sister Debby that I was going to marry you.”

“You did? That was quite an assumption.”

“And she said, ‘I didn’t know you have been seeing Atha.’ ”

“Oh, I haven’t. This is the first time I have seen her in over a year. But I am going to marry her.”

About that time the waitress came to take our beverage order. Still wrapped in his euphoria, Husband leaned across the table with a huge smile and called me by my maiden name.

“So, tell me, Miss Simers, what have you been doing with yourself lately?”

The waitress looked dumbfounded at me, and I smiled in return.

Then, I learned back in my chair and began patting my huge maternity belly.

Startled, Husband grabbed the cloth napkin on his left, opened it, and fanned his face vigorously. The red color crawled up his neck and across his face.

We laughed heartedly, and the waitress laughed with us.

He was so embarrassed, he couldn’t order dinner, so I did it for the two of us. “Coffee for him, ice tea for me, two chef salads and two bowls of split-pea soup. We are celebrating our second wedding anniversary.”

The Marble Slab

I understand July 2 was National I Forgot Day. Goodness! Is it so prevalent that we’ve made a holiday for it? 

Possibly it was begun by an individual with ADHD, or even the spouse of that individual.

If so I can relate. Spouses often become frustrated with the “I forgot” syndrome. It seems as if the mysterious “I forgot” can show up frequently in our lives and disrupt a myriad of good intentions. Good old “I forgot” is somehow kinfolk to “Ineffective” and “Unreliable.”

Of course, I did not have this depth of wisdom when Husband and I were ready to shop for our first apartment.  That was before I knew persons with ADHD will often avoid doing things that require much effort or consistency because they are afraid of failure.  I didn’t know about memory issues and problems.

As I recall it was about four weeks before our wedding day. Four weeks!

“Honey, don’t you think we should start looking for an apartment?”, I lovingly cooed at him.

“What’s the hurry? We still have a month.” He was serious.

“Let’s make appointments with some people to go look,” I suggested.

He unenthusiastically agreed to it, and we made plans for him to pick me up on a Tuesday at 10:30 am, so we could begin.

The time came and went. At 11:30 I phoned his house, where his Mother answered. “He’s just now getting out of bed. Did he have an appointment with you?”

“We have a couple of appointments to look at apartments. He was suppose to be here an hour ago.”  I’m certain she heard the frustration creep into my voice.

“He’ll be there soon,” she promised.

I don’t know what his Mother said to him, but thirty minutes later he pulled into the driveway.

“Here I am,” he said a bit too eagerly.

I still hear myself mumbling under my breath.

It did not occur to me that he had little or no control over his forgetfulness. I do remember when we did find an apartment, we were unable to take possession until four days after the wedding because we waited so late to secure one.

We stayed ay my brother’s apartment two of those days.

My new Mother-in-law asked, “How is it working for you, staying at your brother’s apartment?” I think this was her way of approaching the topic.

 “It’s OK. It was nice of him to move over to Mom and Dad’s house for a couple of days. Of course, he is closer to her cooking and the comforts over there.”

“You don’t appear to be happy about this,” Mother-in-law was rather astute. “How many other things did my son fail to do before the wedding?”

The words rolled out of me. I didn’t mean to begin complaining, but I think it was how I sounded.

“The thing is, I don’t think he meant to disappoint me, but he is always making excuses for not getting things done.”

Today I laugh at that comment because not a whole lot has changed in that department.

“I tell you; you can’t always wait for him to get the ball rolling. You can’t make innuendos with him. It has to be direct and let him know you are serious.”

I followed every word, and she watched my face  to make certain I did.

“This is how to do it,” she continued. “Get yourself a large piece of marble about this size.” She gestured a piece about 12 inches long and four inches thick.

I thought she was serious.

“Chisel what you want him to know or remember across the top it,” she said as she mimed it.

Then pick it up like this, and WHAM! Smack him between the eyes with it!”

We both hollered with laughter. In the days before I ever dreamed about such prescriptions as Mindfulness Meditation or concepts such as  neuroplasticity, Mother-in-law shared her own approach to his forgetfulness.

In other words, she told me to make certain I clearly let him know my expectations. “Don’t put him in a position to disappoint you.”   

I  loved her for sharing this wisdom.

Grandmother's Dish Soap

Grandmother’s Dish Soap

“I really wish your Great-grandmother Lutz had lived to see you grown-up,”  I told Oldest Daughter this week.

“Why?” she asked with a smile. She probably guessed what I was going to say.

“I think she would have been pleased with how much you resemble her in attitude, actions, and even in body build.”

"Oh, yeah. I could have a long talk with her about the size of my butt. Thanks, Grandma.”

"You’re Dad’s Grandmother was a lovely woman with a strong business sense and a no-nonsense attitude toward life. I very much admired her.”

"Oh, well, I liked Grandma, and I remember as a small child being curious as to why she never slept with a pillow. I kept trying to bring her one when she spent the night with us. She said she never slept with it. I thought that part of her was weird. Now that I am older, I would likely say. ‘No, shit, Grandma?”

“And your most-proper, lady-like Grandmother would speak sternly about your language. She did not like for her grandchildren to talk crudely, even though Grandpa Lutz and her daughters did.”

Husband interjected at this point. “Yes, she would tell you to get her bottle of dish soap, and she would wash your mouth out with soap.”

Oldest Daughter quickly caught his message. “How many times did you have to get the soap, Dad?”

“Once was all it took, thank you very much.”

“Did it make you sick?”

“Hell, I mean heck yes. It made me sick. It only took one time for her to use soap on me.”

“Did she squirt it in your mouth? That would make me vomit.”

“No, she squirt it on a dishcloth and brushed my teeth with it. Then she told me to rinse my mouth. It tasted nasty, and yes it did make me a bit sick. She had warned me, though. She said she would do it if she heard me swear one more time.”

“Why did you do it again, then? Didn’t you believe her?”

“I forgot. You know my ADHD impulsiveness and forgetfulness. I was caught in the moment. I just didn’t remember until I heard her call my name and tell me to go get the dish soap.”

“Isn’t 17 a bit old for your Grandmother to wash your mouth with soap?”

“I was only six or seven, smartie.”

I could see the wheels turning behind Oldest Daughter’s eyes. She couldn’t imagine my own Mother doing such a thing, and she couldn’t image me allowing her to do so.

Laughingly she asked, “What did your Mother do? Did she actually allow her Mother to wash your teeth with dish soap?”

“Mom would never correct Grandma Lutz. She just sat there and laughed at me. She was afraid to say much because she knew where I had learned those words. She might have been afraid she would be next.”

I knew that part was likely true. Grandmother would not have washed Betty’s mouth with soap, but mentally I saw her stern gaze and heard her firm tone. I imagine she would have said, “Betty! He only talks that way because he’s heard the same word come out of your mouth.”

We do not approve of Grandmother’s method in today’s world, but it was effective. Without medication or complimentary interventions, she quickly instilled in her grandson a motivation to remember and catch control his behavior when he was in her presence.

Husband still respects her memory, only praises her graciousness, and admires her business acumen. I don’t think the dish soap hurt him in any manner. And in fact, I have heard him tell the story so often , I rather think he views it as funny.