• Grace and Discipline with ADHD (Part one)

  • 2025/02/03
  • 再生時間： 12 分
  • ポッドキャスト

Grace and Discipline with ADHD (Part one)

無料で聴く

ポッドキャストの詳細を見る

  • サマリー

  • originally written for Medium.com • Photo by Keagan Henman on Unsplash The Deeper Long-Term Effects of Late-Diagnosis ADHD I was interviewed recently by the hosts of a decluttering podcast (link to come later, it’s not online yet!). I’ve been writing about organization systems and techniques for decades. I have always enjoyed trying out new systems, finding out the advantages and limitations and constantly re-optimizing them in various ways whether physical (whiteboards and labeled boxes!), paper (53 folders! File cabinets and notebooks!) or digital (Obsidian! Notion! Johnny Decimal! Tags, tags, so many tags…). It’s gotten to the point where I have to finally accept that it’s not so much a “need to get organized” as a hobby that I enjoy. Being a productivity/organization nerd for so long has made me into a bit of a resource for friends and clients as well; in any given situation, I usually can find a few different ways to organize, systematize, and optimize it, with a good idea of the pros and cons of each system. A long chat with a couple of decluttering enthusiasts was a wonderful way to spend a Saturday afternoon, and we laughed and traded ideas and experiences for over an hour. Finally one of the hosts asked me a question that resonated more deeply than I expected: Has your diagnosis of ADHD changed any of the ways you approach decluttering or organizing? Seems like an easy question, right? I could just point to the ADHD-friendly PDF planner, or my ADHD everyday carry kit, or something like that. But for some reason, the conversation sent my brain into deeper, more existential motivations, and two seemingly contradictory words bubbled up to the surface of my brain. “Yes. I give myself more grace, and more discipline. Grace is hard for a recovering workaholic ex-hustle-culture single-parent former Marine. Love languages are one thing — what about “motivational” languages? We all have varying ways of talking ourselves into doing things, as well as giving feedback to ourselves about the things we’ve done. Quite often these voices are echoes of the voices we internalized from others in our lives — parents, peers, teachers, partners, bosses, mentors, even books or podcasts. To use a distasteful example, a “pickup artist” enthusiast will likely start referring to people in terms of how attractive they find them — usually with a number, because objectifying other people with labels is much easier than actually interacting with them. But the interesting thing is that they also will refer to themselves with that numbering system — and it becomes a motivation for self-improvement. I’m only a six, but if I get in shape and dress better I could move up to a seven or eight and then I’ll have a chance with a nine, maybe even a not-picky ten! Gross, and also effective in some people I’ve met in getting them to pay more attention to their health and appearance. Even more distasteful and also unfortunately effective is the use of self-directed shame and anger as a motivator. I know this because many of my own accomplishments and “good habits” came from this kind of motivation. Nobody beats me up better than the drill instructor in my head (What do you mean you don’t feel like working out? Since when does a man your age have a choice in that? I don’t know what I did to deserve to be stuck in the head of someone this pathetic!). Or shame: No wonder your blog numbers fell. You don’t get up at 5 am and write anymore, the way real writers do. Might as well just keep scrolling Instagram, your work isn’t ever going to amount to anything anyway. Or just things not being good enough, even when they do get done: Sure, you think you’re a clever writer, coming up with these little voices in your head — but three? Four examples if you count the pickup artist? That’s ridiculous. Nobody’s going to read that much. You should have spent more time editing, instead of just squeezing in your writing on your lunch break. No wonder you’re not a Top Writer. That’s been my motivation for most of my life. Bullying and berating and belittling myself into getting things done — and it’s been quite effective, because I’ve done a lot of things, and certainly achieved the mainstream milestones of masculine success. And amidst being treated for the depression and anxiety that was the result of all that “success” came the news from my therapist and my psychiatrist. Oh. You have ADHD, combined type, and it’s pretty obvious that you’ve had it your entire life. That diagnosis added a new voice in my head. Suddenly there was a new set of ideas in my head, a clarification of the contributing factors to a huge number of decisions, events, and behaviors in my life. The simple understanding that my brain does not process dopamine the way that approximately 97% of other brains do explained why so much of the world I lived in — the world designed to ...
    続きを読む 一部表示

あらすじ・解説

originally written for Medium.com • Photo by Keagan Henman on Unsplash The Deeper Long-Term Effects of Late-Diagnosis ADHD I was interviewed recently by the hosts of a decluttering podcast (link to come later, it’s not online yet!). I’ve been writing about organization systems and techniques for decades. I have always enjoyed trying out new systems, finding out the advantages and limitations and constantly re-optimizing them in various ways whether physical (whiteboards and labeled boxes!), paper (53 folders! File cabinets and notebooks!) or digital (Obsidian! Notion! Johnny Decimal! Tags, tags, so many tags…). It’s gotten to the point where I have to finally accept that it’s not so much a “need to get organized” as a hobby that I enjoy. Being a productivity/organization nerd for so long has made me into a bit of a resource for friends and clients as well; in any given situation, I usually can find a few different ways to organize, systematize, and optimize it, with a good idea of the pros and cons of each system. A long chat with a couple of decluttering enthusiasts was a wonderful way to spend a Saturday afternoon, and we laughed and traded ideas and experiences for over an hour. Finally one of the hosts asked me a question that resonated more deeply than I expected: Has your diagnosis of ADHD changed any of the ways you approach decluttering or organizing? Seems like an easy question, right? I could just point to the ADHD-friendly PDF planner, or my ADHD everyday carry kit, or something like that. But for some reason, the conversation sent my brain into deeper, more existential motivations, and two seemingly contradictory words bubbled up to the surface of my brain. “Yes. I give myself more grace, and more discipline. Grace is hard for a recovering workaholic ex-hustle-culture single-parent former Marine. Love languages are one thing — what about “motivational” languages? We all have varying ways of talking ourselves into doing things, as well as giving feedback to ourselves about the things we’ve done. Quite often these voices are echoes of the voices we internalized from others in our lives — parents, peers, teachers, partners, bosses, mentors, even books or podcasts. To use a distasteful example, a “pickup artist” enthusiast will likely start referring to people in terms of how attractive they find them — usually with a number, because objectifying other people with labels is much easier than actually interacting with them. But the interesting thing is that they also will refer to themselves with that numbering system — and it becomes a motivation for self-improvement. I’m only a six, but if I get in shape and dress better I could move up to a seven or eight and then I’ll have a chance with a nine, maybe even a not-picky ten! Gross, and also effective in some people I’ve met in getting them to pay more attention to their health and appearance. Even more distasteful and also unfortunately effective is the use of self-directed shame and anger as a motivator. I know this because many of my own accomplishments and “good habits” came from this kind of motivation. Nobody beats me up better than the drill instructor in my head (What do you mean you don’t feel like working out? Since when does a man your age have a choice in that? I don’t know what I did to deserve to be stuck in the head of someone this pathetic!). Or shame: No wonder your blog numbers fell. You don’t get up at 5 am and write anymore, the way real writers do. Might as well just keep scrolling Instagram, your work isn’t ever going to amount to anything anyway. Or just things not being good enough, even when they do get done: Sure, you think you’re a clever writer, coming up with these little voices in your head — but three? Four examples if you count the pickup artist? That’s ridiculous. Nobody’s going to read that much. You should have spent more time editing, instead of just squeezing in your writing on your lunch break. No wonder you’re not a Top Writer. That’s been my motivation for most of my life. Bullying and berating and belittling myself into getting things done — and it’s been quite effective, because I’ve done a lot of things, and certainly achieved the mainstream milestones of masculine success. And amidst being treated for the depression and anxiety that was the result of all that “success” came the news from my therapist and my psychiatrist. Oh. You have ADHD, combined type, and it’s pretty obvious that you’ve had it your entire life. That diagnosis added a new voice in my head. Suddenly there was a new set of ideas in my head, a clarification of the contributing factors to a huge number of decisions, events, and behaviors in my life. The simple understanding that my brain does not process dopamine the way that approximately 97% of other brains do explained why so much of the world I lived in — the world designed to ...
続きを読む 一部表示
activate_buybox_copy_target_t1

Grace and Discipline with ADHD (Part one)に寄せられたリスナーの声

カスタマーレビュー：以下のタブを選択することで、他のサイトのレビューをご覧になれます。

Audible.co.jp

Amazon.co.jp
レビューはまだありません。