Lose Everything
Some days, I'm surprised I even remember my own name. I see it as a blessing that my head is attached to my neck.
I swear, if I ever have children, they just might have to wear helmets.
This is what it feels like to be an adult with ADHD.
It takes energy to concentrate on the lips of someone's face while they speak to me. If I don't look at their lips, the very depth of their eyes distracts me from what they are saying.
Most people think I'm a good listener. In reality, I'm counting their freckles or silently dancing to some psychedelic, Hipster tune by Washed Out.
That being said, I still love to listen. You just may have to prompt from me some responses or grunts, lest you lose me to the conversation happening behind me or the grinding of an espresso hopper.
If I don't have coffee, you just might think I'm missing a few brain cells. Fogginess is a common enemy I am forever trying to escape.
Some days, I congratulate myself when I can carry a conversation in a halfway-witty manner. These times consist of my brain brimming with responses of all types, rather than lagging behind a wall of silence. I like these days because I feel pretty smart.
Don't even try to talk to me about dates and calendars. I will not track even the remotest of schedules.
Teaching me without a visual aid will leave you and I frustrated because of the number of times I will forget something completely mundane and ask you to repeat it again. And again. And again.
This band? Oh, yeah. I love this band. What are they called again?
Um......
um.....
ummmmmmm.
Forget it.
I feel like a blob of emotions. I'm stuck inside a GLASS CASE OF EMOTION!!!
So if I ever approach you like this:
Please be kind. And perhaps give me a kitten to hold.
