ADHD and me: three years.

March 20, 2016 • by kerri

Three years ago today I received the results of my assessment. While I waited awhile to have my ADHD diagnosis further confirmed, today—March 20th—is the day that I still see as my ADHDaversary (I mean, look, if I’m making this a cake-worthy celebration I’ll celebrate both days. Duh.)

Like anything, I’m not defined by my ADHD, but it helps explain me—and, over the last 3 years, I’ve learned a lot about how ADHD influences who I am, and how its traits are woven into the person I am. My diagnosis helps me understand myself better—and that’s the most important thing of all. Everything I wrote back in August resonates so much here:

I just felt different for much of my life: [ADHD] explains the frustration, the self-doubt, the guilt that was associated with not being all people thought I should be, the huge shift I’ve felt in my world on meds, the issues I had in school, the issues I had/have at times interacting with people, the sensory overload, all the freaking feelings that sometimes justoverwhelm me. ADHD helps explain that. Those things are all a part of me, and so is ADHD.

—it’s not a label, it’s a bridge: part two

I’m happy to have answers, to have words to explain my world, an amazing tribe of Smart Girls with ADHD who get it (Smart Girls founder, Beth, is the reason I actually went back and looked for my diagnosis date after her own anniversary a week ago!), friends who have reached out with their own stories, and others who may not totally get it, but they try. I am happy to be the person that I am, with the story that I have—ADHD and all.

In all of its chaos and ups and downs and the curve-balls it has thrown into my life, its still my story—THIS is what ADHD looks like: Me.

Appropriately random for the day several of my quirks got explained, it’s National Ravioli Day today (and no, I don’t care which nation is celebrating ravioli.) Obviously, I’m going to celebrate my awesomeness with ravioli for supper.

Here’s to more attention deficit adventures ahead… Because ADHDers definitely have more fun—at least once we figure out where we’re going, find our keys, remember what time we’re supposed to leave, and learn to embrace everything about who we are.

find me at understood: “what ADHD feels like to me”

January 18, 2016 • by kerri

ADHD doesn’t define me, but it does help me understand who I am.

from What ADHD Feels Like to Me.

I’m stoked to finally share my first post on Understood’s “The Inside Track” blog! What ADHD Feels Like to Me shares a glimpse into my life with undiagnosed learning and attention issues, and what finally identifying my ADHD and learning issues means to me.

The experience I’ve had working with the Understood team has been a brand new one to me. For the first time, I’ve worked with an editor—and, while he changed every ‘university’ to ‘college’ in this post, ‘cause America, he is beyond fun and the process has been awesome. (Hi, Andrew!).

Understood gets me.
I found the weekly #LDchat on Twitter run by Understood not long after my diagnosis. From that point forward, until I entered a contract agreement with Understood in September (and, let’s face it, even since then. Also, disclosures here), I would continually and politely remind the Understood team about the existence of adults with learning and attention issues.
Unlike so many groups, Understood listened. We threw some direct messages and e-mails around, and on September 1st, I signed my first contract with Understood (renewed January 1, 2016). While Andrew and I work together to rework and polish a piece to go live, honesty is as important to Understood as it is to me: everything I write on Understood reflects my experiences, feelings and opinions—Andrew made it clear that nothing would go up that I wasn’t 100% on. And, he’s been equally 100% solid on that.

What ADHD Feels Like to Me has been awhile in the making, but the process to get here has been awesome. I’m thankful for Understood: both for this opportunity to share my story with a bigger audience, and for what they offer parents of kids with learning and attention issues.

Disclosure: I receive compensation to blog for Understood.org (note: I would have done it for free but they offered me money). I am under no obligation to share these posts on Kerri on the Prairies or via social media. (But, you know, I like them, so why wouldn’t I?)

ADHD + learning disabilities / advocacy / life

it’s not a label, it’s a bridge (part two)

August 11, 2015August 11, 2015 • by kerri

I know I have ADHD. I’ve worked at embracing that, at changing the way I perceive things about myself because of ADHD, at being more patient with myself because of it. I write about it enough here, and share about it enough elsewhere (like Twitter and Facebook), that I’m cool with people knowing that I have ADHD. But, back in 2013 when I had my psychoeducational assessment done, the tests came back inconclusive for ADHD. They gave me specific points to work off of at school: try certain study strategies, receive accommodations, and consider ADHD medication to see if they alleviated my symptoms. I did all of the above—and they all helped. So, I became more certain that I had ADHD. After several months on meds, I became positive. But, I hadn’t seen it on paper. Paper really changes nothing, I know ADHD is real, I know ADHD in me is real, but paper told me my tests were inconclusive. And I think I needed paper to tell me, inside, even after two years on meds, that inconclusive was no longer the case. So I can finally stop those doubts.

Once a year, I see my psychiatrist. Yesterday was that day. I got a new prescription for Concerta, and asked her to fill out a form enabling me to access support services for students with disabilities, as I plan to return to school in the Fall(-ish) and study web development. Because that’s a good combo with a degree in gym, yeah? I hand my doctor the form, and she fills it out as I stare at her doggy in the corner (her name is Haley and she is cute. I was very excited that my doctor had her in the office today!). I quietly take my phone off the table beside the leather chair I’m sitting in and take this picture. (Haley came to visit me in the waiting room, too.)

I slide my phone back down, into my lap. Dr. G turns to ask me, “How severe would you say your symptoms are?”
“I thought that was a weird question–I really have no idea how to answer that.”
“Let’s see what psychology said.”
She flips through my chart, reads some pieces of my assessment to answer the question, and continues on with the form. We discuss my previous accommodations, she notes them down and asks me to review the form. Looks good (I realized last night that we forgot to note down the alternate format textbook accommodation, but that can be dealt with).

As I reviewed the form, though, I had to do a double-take.

Because, her classification of my ADHD (314.00 on the DSM-V, or “Primarily Inattentive”) as “severe” is a lot different from “inconclusive” that I previously saw in writing.

i would but just can’t seem / to ignore what i can’t see.

—cause, let it happen.

As always, this doesn’t define me, but helps explain me. Like many ADHD-ers, I just felt different for much of my life: it explains the frustration, the self-doubt, the guilt that was associated with not being all people thought I should be, the huge shift I’ve felt in my world on meds, the issues I had in school, the issues I had/have at times interacting with people, the sensory overload, all the freaking feelings that sometimes just overwhelm me. ADHD helps explain that. Those things are all a part of me, and so is ADHD.

Now I know that yes, I fit solidly into this obscurely shaped non-box that is ADHD. I think, maybe, that just knowing that will help me move forward a bit more now. Accept my quirks, accept how they fit into this journey, and to roll with it, ‘cause I’ve seen it not only in me for myself, but on paper for myself.

It’s complicated to coexist peacefully with something that is so much a part of me, but simultaneously has dramatically impacted my life in perhaps not the most positive ways prior to my diagnosis. I can’t do anything about that, though, so I’ll continue to own this piece of circumstance—even if, for today, I can’t grasp the “severe” bit. Though it doesn’t really matter anyways—it’s all about how I choose to see what I’ll do with ADHD today.

i used to blame the circumstance: now i see it’s in my hands.

—effect, let it happen.

This is what ADHD looks like.
Me.

But, I am far more than ADHD.
And I’ll embrace the good that has come with those four letters, too.

ADHD + learning disabilities / life / work

smart girls with adhd (and a story)

June 30, 2015July 17, 2015 • by kerri

Within the last few days, I’ve become connected with Beth of Smart Girls with ADHD.

And let me say… I LOVE THIS.

People with ADHD are usually creative, idea generators, outside-the-box thinkers, and… yes, SMART!

The hard part is, often, we don’t feel like we’re smart. I sometimes feel like all of the awesome associated with having ADHD has been overshadowed by the struggles I experience because of ADHD. I’ve said it many times: I am relieved I can explain some of my quirks through disclosing my ADHD… but, in no way do I wish to become defined by it—nor do I want to use it as an excuse. ADHD is a part of me—I’m okay with talking about it, self advocating: I say it frequently on #LDchat: put it in terms people understand, in context. Situation + adaptation.

“I have ADHD[/learning issues], and [in x situation], I may need [y adaptation].”

I have ADHD and learning issues, and when learning a new skill, I may need the steps written down.

I have ADHD, and in a long lecture, I may need to quietly slip out to go do a few flights of stairs.

I have ADHD, and it helps me to study with earphones in so I can block out the external noise and focus on only one source of sound—yes, seriously.

I have learning issues, so if you can provide visual information to me in words, this works a lot better for me.

I have ADHD, and I sometimes get overwhelmed in large group conversations. I may need to ask for clarification. I have processing speed issues, so sometimes I need to jump back a few bullet points to catch up.

I have learning issues affecting my visual memory—this makes me terrible at names, so please remind me of yours and I’ll keep trying!

I will keep trying.

Another real life story:
A few weeks ago, I went into work, and was told we didn’t have a paper schedule for the tennis matches for the day. I usually use my paper schedule to write down court numbers and check in players so all the information is right in front of me, but I figured it was a good learning opportunity to try to be efficient using the computer. I did okay but struggled a bit. The next day, I opted to print my own schedule of the matches (to alter!) to help keep me organized—except, I failed to cross-check with the computer, and told a doubles team to come at the wrong time as based on my paper schedule. Let’s say their opponents weren’t impressed, but thankfully didn’t ream me out!

That’s when it’s hard: when I try my hardest to be smart. To work with it. To work with what I know is a challenge for me, and then I still mess up.

Yet, being diagnosed with ADHD was what taught me I am not stupid. As a girl with ADHD, I don’t present the same way as boys do: I’m not necessarily hyper—or not hyper in the same ways; I’m not loud when I’m not supposed to be; I can often sit for long periods of time—sometimes I can be lucky enough to hyperfocus when it’s opportune. But just because it doesn’t look like what people perceive ADHD as, doesn’t mean I don’t have it. Just because people see me as smart, just because I seem to be doing well, just because, because, BECAUSE… doesn’t mean anything. I compensate to make things work—sometimes I don’t even think about it—but I put more effort into a LOT of things than people would ever guess to make it look like I’ve got it together.

It took my ADHD diagnosis to realize I’m not stupid.

To phrase that again:

Being diagnosed with ADHD taught me I am smart.

And I will keep trying.

Thanks to Beth for making me an admin of the Smart Girls with ADHD Facebook group. If you’re a woman with ADHD, I hope you’ll join us!

ADHD + learning disabilities / adventures / asthma / life / quantified self / wellness

meditation + thermea (and the thermal experience with asthma and adhd)

May 1, 2015 • by kerri

Meditation is one of those sort of weird things that seems to be a recurring theme in my life. (It might be better if it were just a theme rather than a recurring one, because that clearly means I get out of the habit of it.) The thing is, meditation and ADHD really aren’t the best of friends. Ditto relaxation exercises (“What Meditation Isn’t”: a relaxation exercise. By the way.). Once in adapted physical activity (3+ years prior to my own ADHD diagnosis) the group presenting on ADHD added progressive muscle relaxation (the sometimes-guided cyclic tightening and releasing of muscle groups) as their cool-down, which I thought was brilliant, and I might be able to get behind. Sort of like meditation in which I could move slightly and focus on a thing instead of nothing. Except I fell off the train. Following that by a few years, in September after I listened to Ryan and Rachel discuss the Headspace app, I got into it again—I legitimately installed Headspace on my phone in the Sheraton lounge (ye-eah, ePatients discussing meditation instead of drinking!) and then when I finally limped up to my room (I had this weird pain in the left side of my abdomen for like three days, and it got really brutal that evening for whatever reason. Also I didn’t die so all good. So, thus the limping kind of lateral-left folded over!), I collapsed into bed with my earphones in after taking a shower. (Greatist reviews Headspace here, by the way.)

Guided meditation is the first kind of anything I found that actually worked with my ADHD brain. The “clear your mind” kind of meditation does not work for me, because it’s all “nothing is still something and I should really check what time my bus is it possible to really think of nothing is still something” in there. And after a several-month hiatus from Headspace, I started using it again a couple weeks ago. Except then I realized that soon enough, my free Headspace sessions would be all not new to me anymore, and I was not okay with paying money (even though Headspace is really, really good, I don’t want to pay a monthly subscription just now). So I started exploring other apps, and came across Smiling Mind, which I’ve been using for most of the week. I like it so much that one day I actually did three meditation sessions. Maybe that’s because it’s made for young people (while there is an adult category, the age brackets actually start at 7-11 years old, which is awesome). Plus it tracks your time (or is supposed to) and other nerdy things that I like.

(I’m not sure why I have 0 meditating minutes though. Because I totally have minutes! And I’ve done more than 3 meditations but I didn’t fill out the post-meditation quiz a time or two because I fell asleep and it doesn’t really want you to do that, I think.)

Plus it totally tells you if your brain is all over the place that is okay and just to try to bring your attention back to your breathing or your body or whatever (not actually whatever. That is what is being avoided). Because ADHD brain cannot really be reliably stopped from going all over the place! It makes it really easy to adhere to trying to become more mindful through meditation, though. So, I’ve been pretty adherent.

And then I went to Thermea.

I can honestly say that I probably enjoyed/benefitted more from Thermea because of practicing meditation (that sounds so weird) most days or everyday in the week or so prior to visiting, so that was a happy coincidence that my aunt decided we should go on her week between jobs—my grandma came as well. Thermea is this Nordic inspired spa involving “releasing toxins” via rapid/therapeutic changes in body temperature. (I still don’t really buy the whole “toxins” argument, but it WAS relaxing and I thoroughly enjoyed it (I can’t wait to go back, but at about $50/visit, I won’t be going more than once a season—but I do plan to visit every season!). I included meditation during some of the heat portions of the cycle in the saunas (one essential oils dry sauna, and two humid saunas, one with orange and the other with eucalyptus), focusing on awareness of different parts of my body rather than breathing, because while my asthma was totally okay at Thermea (who pre-medicates for the spa?! This girl.) the humid saunas were the one thing that might have become the exception to that—part of the need for meditation in here was actually so I could ignore the feeling of humidity on my lungs a bit more—by “my asthma was totally okay” this includes “my lungs were tolerable in the saunas”. Humidity can kind of be suffocating sometimes, but it was for the most part tolerable, at least for the first 10 minutes of the 15. Interestingly, the Thermea websites warns against the water parts for people with respiratory problems, but not the saunas—seems backwards to me.I liked the eucalyptus sauna way more than the orange. Also used an exfoliating scrub for the first time in my life, and I kind of understand why people use these things now.

On the first round after the eucalyptus sauna, we attempted the coldest pool (10*C, the Polarber), and couldn’t get past our ankles, and resigned to the 21*C pool for a quick (laborious) float. 21*C may be shorts weather, but it’s still 16* colder than body temperature. From there, we went to the 39*C Geser pool for the relax phase—much better! The cycle continued much like that, except we found two areas with lounging chairs set up that we hung out on in our robes (the robes at thermea have hoods, people. Best invention ever.) all silently (mostly). Did another sauna, finally braved the Polarber waterfall (which was actually awesome the second time, it just reminded me of the ice bucket challenge, and subsequent times even better). Then we were informed of an essential oils thing going on in the dry sauna (during which at one point the dude threw cold water at us. That was actually awesome, honestly). After a few cycles around, we did the exfoliant thing, and then found the room of seating made of heated tiles. The upper row had headphones, so I headed up there to crank up the soundtrack of the room a bit (I was apparently getting to the point I was not able to get back in the meditation mindset, so I spent the time trying to figure out if the song was an endless loop, or if it ended. I listened for probably about 8-10 minutes and did not hear any discernible end… At least my focus was somewhere rather than 400 places, no? I’ll take it as a win.)

After that, I dumped a bucket of cold water on myself and “completed the cycle” with a hot shower back in the change room. In total, we spent about three hours at Thermea, and even before I left I knew I’d be back.

Of course… The second I unlocked my locker with the cool wristband, I heard my Pebble vibrating away.

Return to reality. The retreat was amazing.

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