An Adhd life

As far as I can remember, I was about six when I first asked my mother for the switch.It was in the middle of summer and we were in bed and she was waiting for me to fall asleep. She turned the lights off and told me to close my eyes.I kept making funny noises, so she told me to stop and go to sleep. I said “I can’t, you have to turn it off”. “The lights are off.” My mother declared. That’s when I begin to realise that there was a circus in my head that didn’t go and off with the bedroom lights.

Or any other type of light, not the street lights in our city as I carry on playing kids games for hours and hours nor the bright theatre lights of the school plays that made everyone invisible when I was a shy teenager. Certainly not the big stern operating theatre lights at work as an adult. I’ve slowly learned to accept that my brain didn’t just turn on and off with the lights.

I was told it was a condition.It was called ADHD.

Most days, My brain is an adventure, a motor that keeps me running and by running I mean finishing the Paris marathon despite excruciating pain, unknowing that I’ve broken a portion of my pelvis.(yes that was an experience). Sometimes its a spotlight on a white collar boxing match that dims the rest of Clapham Grand or a spotlight that blurs the outlines of a chaotic Thursday operating theatre so I can see a bleeding vessel fluorescent like lava flowing from a volcano against a dark canopy of a tropical evening.(Apparently that is called hyper focus) Some days it’s a ghost that creeps up at me from my climbing harness as I’m about to do a third clip during a lead climb. The worst is when it is an orchestra that plays cheesy broken heart songs that compels me to slide my back against the wall like I’m nominated for an Oscar best actress.(This I was told is called RSD) I hated that orchestra like when it played for two hours after my Mother’s funeral and days on repeat after my first broken heart.

Most of all, its a crack addict, always looking for its fix. Boxing, climbing, running,dodgeball,frisbee,baking, cooking, poetry, painting,sewing,violin, guitar, harmonica,make up, travel, a new wine, singing, dancing like drag queens are watching, a new language, counting in a new language so I can count the poor exhausted sheep in Arabic, maybe it will help me fall asleep quicker.

It’s like someone gave you a very fast shiny toy car, but you keep loosing the bloody remote.

It’s shiny, it’s colourful, it’s somber, its tumultuous, its beautiful, its explosive. It’s hibernation on a tropical paradise island and on worst of days it’s an an avalanche in a middle of a blizzard next to an erupting volcano of magnificent chaos, with gunshots in the background and a tsunami on the way. A phenomenon, only the brave can ever endure. It’s not all that is me,I’m so much more, but it’s a part of me that I’ve learned to tame and fear and embrace.

It’s a journey, it’s mine.

This October,I celebrate it.

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