Kara S. Anderson

Homeschool connection, not perfection.

ADHD: Meds and Regrets (but not how you think)

by Kara S. Anderson 2 Comments

So here’s what’s messed up.

About 20 minutes after I took ADHD meds for the first time, I got up off my beloved couch (My Throne of ADHD Paralysis) to walk upstairs.

I think I had a plan, but I can’t remember now because all I can recall is that while walking up the stairs, I realized my brain was reaching for stress – doing what it always did – just psychically calling out to the worries or whatever – and nothing. was. there.

I couldn’t think of anything to worry about.

And so, still fully dressed from my doctor’s appointment a few hours before – wearing mascara and button-pants, I flopped down on my bed and started laughing hysterically.

Then I started sobbing.

Then I called my son.

“I didn’t know I could feel like this,” I said.

He responded: “I know.”

My Brain is Broken and So Is My Mom

For two and a half GLORIOUS days, I tried to come to terms with the fact that my brain is actually broken different, and that medicine was helping.

I had tried to talk myself out of an ADHD diagnosis once I got one because my diagnosis was a little complicated.

It turns out that I also have something called Complex Post Traumatic Stress Disorder (C-PTSD), and so there’s this chicken and egg thing …

I don’t want to go into that too much in this post, but it was enough to make me question if I really had ADHD at all, despite a bunch of testing, or if bad stuff had just broken my brain.*

#both!

But then a few weeks later, I was prescribed ADHD medication, and immediately I felt such relief that I knew. I knew – something …

That I had to work out something about neurodivergence … and everyone …

And then my phone rang and it was my mom’s husband saying she was on the way to the hospital in an ambulance.

Perfect Timing. Sort Of.

My mom is doing really well, but let’s just say that the whole thing was a long road, and really messy, and I guess interestingly from a timing stand-point, sort of a breaking point for my mom as far as some of our super-fun shared trauma goes.

You know how you can look back and think – OH! It all had to come undone. Things are so much better now!

But at the time, none of it felt connected or good. It felt like chaos and stomach pain. (Fun Fact: I haven’t eaten cheese since January!)

But Dr. L and the good Lord had given me ADHD meds – and so I was able to function through the whole thing in a way that I wouldn’t have been able to before – not just logistically, but with …

wait for it …

confidence?

I don’t know how to explain it.

I just know that I found myself emboldened and unafraid.

I did what John Mayer and Rob Reiner told us to do in 2007. I said what I needed to say.

But that doesn’t mean I had processed ANY of the ADHD stuff.

Processing That We all Have ADHD

In fact, I was still feeling, not surprisingly, heaping loads of guilt.

It turns out that when it clears away the smog, ADHD medicine can help you feel both so much better, and so much worse.

And so as my sister and I worked to set my mom up with resources and care, I was also seeing (thanks to 3 whole weeks of ADHD meds) that I hadn’t really processed the everyone has ADHD thing. 

So Much Transition

I’d actually been on weird auto-pilot since dropping my son off at college.

At literally the same time my daughter started bursting out like a bean sprout. She got an offer for a job interview in a McDonald’s parking lot half-way between our home and my son’s new college on the way to drop him off.

So as soon as we got home, she started working and prepping to start early college enrollment at 15.

That meant that – surprise! I was kind of done homeschooling? Sort of?

(I wasn’t, because she was 15, but there was definitely a huge shift happening.)

Plus my son had been diagnosed with ADHD in the late summer, and then my daughter got her diagnosis in the fall, and then I got mine in December.

And they were TOO BUSY to have long conversations about the whole thing just to assuage my guilt!

Can you imagine?

Regrets, I HAD a Few

And so I had sort of been simmering in a soup of feelings about my kids both having ADHD – and guilt was the broth.

I would ask myself really helpful questions like:

***

Meanwhile, my actual children were doing OK.

My son had gotten into his first choice of university, started a band, and was adjusting to college life.

My daughter had started work and college at 15, because she could.

I’m not saying that everything was perfect. But I am saying that no one was curled up in a ball in their closet like Moira.

 

Getting a Delayed ADHD Diagnosis

And so during the summer, while my son was home, every once in a while we he made coffee and I made tea, I would ask little things like if he felt like homeschooling had destroyed his whole life.

It shouldn’t be a kid’s job to make their parent feel better, so eventually, I stopped asking probing questions and watched and listened.

I saw how close my kids are, and how they would talk about ADHD, ADHD meds, and school and jobs, and support one another, and I realized that this closeness was due in part to time spent together in trees when they “should have” been doing math.

And I felt my gut relax just a little.

Then my son told me at one point that homeschooling gave him exactly what he needed. It gave him and his brain freedom and he was grateful.

And I felt my soul relax just a little.

ADHD Meds – They Aren’t What I Thought

The truth is, we’ll never know what it would have been like to all be diagnosed sooner with ADHD.

We simply can’t go back.

I will say this – about a year and a half before my son was the boy who wouldn’t sit on the line, he was the boy walking around the doctor’s office asking questions, and the doctor remarked how “ACTIVE,” he was.

He kept saying and emphasizing that word: “He’s really ACTIVE, isn’t he?”

I just smiled because yes – he was active.

But I also knew what the doctor was getting at. Was he – you know – “hyperactive?”

Was he presenting with classic little boy ADHD symptoms? The kind we were all familiar with back when George W. Bush was president?

And if so, what were our options? ADHD Meds?

I assumed Ritalin.

Because I didn’t know what I didn’t know.

And I was scared.

I was scared that he would be prescribed meds at age 3 just so he could “behave,” in pre-school.

I was afraid of him “being labelled.”

I was worried that ADHD medication wouldn’t help him thrive in a classroom – that instead, it would just keep him still.

I assumed medication would make him less him instead of more him.

‘Good Job, Mom’

And then my daughter …

Well, she was active too.

I remember taking her to that same doctor, concerned about her bruised shins. I worried about low iron or something.

“No,” the doctor said. “When I see this, I think ‘active kid.'”

Relief washed over me.

“Do you like to ride your bike and play outside?” he asked, and she said yes.

She brought up tap dancing in the driveway and taking our pet chickens for rides down the slide.**

He smiled and nodded.

“Good work, Mom,” he said.

(And that right there, helps illustrate why females with ADHD often go undiagnosed for 15/45 years.)

So Now What?

So now – just now – finally NOW, I am beginning the process of really thinking about ADHD and what that means, both as a neurodivergent person myself, and as the parent of two kids with ADHD.

And I wonder if you are reading this, looking for some idea of what to do if you suspect you or your kids have ADHD.

So I guess this is what I’ll say about that:

  1. ADHD is a mess.

I mean honestly.

They’re figuring things out, but they (the medical world, I guess?) is still all confused, and most people don’t even know what to look for.

2. We’re Still Operating Like It’s Desert Storm

In fact our whole society is still mainly looking at the little boys who can’t hold still.

I let myself be mad about this at one point.

But as I keep learning more about ADHD, I 100 percent forgive the people who missed my ADHD and my daughters’ ADHD.

Now I need to work on forgiving myself.

3. It’s OK, Mama Bear

So if you think you have ADHD, or one or more of your kids does (there is a strong genetic link) – don’t be mad at yourself for trying to protect your kid from anything negative associated with it.

Again, I am trying to say this to myself.

No one wants their kid “labelled,” but I think we all want them properly diagnosed if they have ADHD.

Part of my goal with this series is to share information as I learn about it, because there is so much I wish I had known decades ago.

4. The Diagnosis Process Is Hard

So maybe you’ve been thinking about trying to get a diagnosis, but you’re running into roadblocks and beating yourself up about that.

Stahp. (As my friend Vanessa would say.)

We’re dealing with a super fun time when we are becoming more aware of ADHD and what is actually looks like and there are whole TikTok accounts devoted to it, and everyone and their mother is getting diagnosed, but that doesn’t mean any of the process is easy.

I heard from someone in the UK that you can be on a waiting list for YEARS just to get a diagnosis.

5. ADHD Meds. Ugh.

But here’s something great! Even if you get diagnosed by a professional, and that professional gives you a prescription for ADHD meds, it’s a total crapshoot whether Walgreens has any!

 

{Thank you, Nandor, for bringing some levity.}

Because I don’t want to be a total bummer, but this is a big problem.

ADHD can feel like trying to see and catch vapor, and then take that vapor somewhere for testing, but testing is either $32 million or unavailable until 2088, and if you are lucky enough to get diagnosed, vampires drank all the Adderall out of club kids.

This isn’t the real reason for a current Adderall shortage. Some people think it is – that people are abusing it – but I think it’s more that we’re all becoming aware of how ADHD actually presents, and finally getting properly diagnosed (if we’re really lucky), and so supply just hasn’t caught up with demand.

And So … Dear You,

Let’s take a deep breath.

Let’s just realize that right now, things are probably OK-ish for you and/or your kids.

If they truly are not, reach out for immediate help. Please.

(Because as I discussed here – ADHD, anxiety and depression are linked.)

Processing ADHD the Best We Can

Currently, I am definitely still processing all of this.

More posts are coming in this ADHD series.

But I’m pretty sure about one thing. As much as I love time travel as a genre, actual time travel hasn’t become reality yet, so we need to do the best we can, wherever we are in this process, to look ahead.

It’s like that song 100 Tampons, which I will let this NPR article sum up:

“Ahead of her 1983 space flight, NASA suggested sending astronaut Sally Ride with 100 tampons for the week-long trip. (That’s too many.)”

The point here is that (see #1) AHDH is kind of a mess. But smart people are working on it all the time.

It’s a little like those glass cubes people put in bathrooms instead of windows.

You can kind of see what’s going on, but you’re definitely not getting the whole picture, but at least some light is getting in.

I wish it was easier.

I’m sending a hug.

Back soon. 🩵

ADHD SERIES

Post 1: So … We All Have ADHD

Post 2: ADHD: There’s Just One Kind Now, But Not Really (The Long and Confusing History of What We Call ADHD)

Post 3: Hey Laaaaady! ADHD in Girls and Women and Why You Don’t Just Suck at Life

*I’m not trying to be vague for any reason other than that some things aren’t mine to talk about and some things are just too hard to talk about and I’m waiting for a book deal.

**How could I ever doubt that we were natural homeschoolers?

This post contains affiliate links.

Photo by Christina Victoria Craft on Unsplash

Hey Laaaaady! ADHD in Girls and Women and Why You Don’t Just Suck at Life

by Kara S. Anderson 1 Comment

Trigger warning: Mention of severe depression and suicidal thoughts. Please skip this one if you need to.

And if you are dealing with severe depression or thoughts of suicide, please, please get help right away. Head to the ER. Call 911. Please. 

My favorite way to describe my ADHD to people is comparing my brain to the mouse in Laura Numeroff’s “If You Give a Mouse a Cookie,” a book in which a cartoon mouse starts out by requesting a cookie, and ends up giving himself a haircut and having a child make him a bed he doesn’t even sleep in and demanding office supplies and eventually coming around to ask for another cookie.

Honestly, Numeroff’s books are adorable. There’s a whole series, including but not limited to If You Give a Pig a Pancake, If you Give a Cat a Cupcake and If You Give a Moose a Muffin.

They were my some of my daughter’s favorites when she was younger …

And I have to wonder now if she was intuitively drawn to the characters because last year we found out we both have ADHD.

ADHD in Girls and Women – Let’s do this.

I want to tell you a little bit about how it feels to have ADHD as a 46-year-old lady, because that’s the only perspective I truly have.

But, I also just want to share a few things before we jump in, because statistically, girls and women are more likely to go undiagnosed and/or be misdiagnosed when it comes to ADHD.

We often wait years or decades to learn that we aren’t just BAD AT LIFE.

It’s heartbreaking.

Here are a few reasons why:

  • Often, the way ADHD presents in girls is NOTHING like the bouncy little boy we knew in 2nd grade, who was always getting in trouble and couldn’t sit still
  • Therefore, we aren’t seen as a “behavior problem,” so everybody thinks we are “focused and good,” because we hold still, although we may be daydreaming all the time, or thinking about something entirely different than whatever it is we’re supposed to be doing or learning.
  • This could be because of that troublesome H in ADHD, which stands for hyperactivity. I break down here the long, messy history of trying to name ADHD and classify it, and why you don’t have to be hyperactive AT ALL to have ADHD.
  • In fact of the 3 flavors, it’s more common for girls to have Inattentive ADHD.
  • Girls and women are also often diagnosed with anxiety/depression while their ADHD gets missed (more on that below)
  • Girls seem to be better as something called “masking,” probably due to social conditioning. In essence, the theory is that ladies are better at pretending their brains aren’t full of fireworks.
  • As girls age, they seem to be better at developing “coping strategies,” to keep them on track. Think of the lists and binders, and baskets and color-coding and all the other stuff that Pinterest and Instagram tends to feed ladies.
  • Finally – during perimenopause, ADHD symptoms get turned up, which is why I thought maybe I had something really wrong with my brain.

Now – of course these are generalizations, and don’t even get me started on how complicated this all is, especially when it comes to gender …

Definitely do your own research and talk to a doctor.

I am not a doctor.

I’m just a lady, and here is my ADHD story:

If You Have ADHD and Want to Shower

So here’s what I mean about my brain being like an adorable, distractible cartoon rodent:

If I’m going to take a shower, I’m going to need a towel.

So I open the towel drawer in the linen cabinet, and realize we don’t have a lot of towels left.

So I go upstairs to collect towels from the upstairs bathroom, and notice the hall really needs to be swept.

So I go back downstairs to get my handy Swiffer (don’t worry – I have these to save trees),* and run it up and down the hall because we have A LOT of pets, and sometimes they all spontaneously molt.

On the way down the stairs, I Swiffer those too, and notice there is a spot on the wall.

So I put the Swiffer down at the base of the stairs (surprisingly not its home, but it will potentially stay right there for days or weeks), and go grab a Magic Eraser.

(I don’t know of a “natural option,” for Magic Erasers, although I have heard to just buy these in bulk to save money. But if someone figures out how to make a Magic Eraser type product out of recycled wool sweaters, I’ll be first in line to try them.)*

OK, So Now I’m Ambush Cleaning

After thinking about wool sweaters and cleaning the spot, it occurs to me that I have this handy device in my little paw, so I might as well look all over the place for little spots on walls.

I go back up the stairs and into my bedroom, my husband’s office, my daughter’s room, and … the bathroom!

Ack! The bathroom!

Towels!

So I collect towels, take them downstairs and put them in the wash immediately so I don’t forget AGAIN.

But wait.

Now I can’t take a shower because 1926 plumbing means I could be scalded to death unexpectedly if two “water things” run simultaneously.

And so I pause in the laundry room, temporarily paralyzed.

(This type of ADHD paralysis can last a while, especially if you are sitting on a couch or curled up in bed. But, IT’S A REAL THING, and it’s not just you, OK?)

Stuck, Stuck, Stuck, Squirrel!

There’s always a 50/50 shot that I will either walk into a room and just stand there wondering what I was going to do, OR, I’ll be immediately distracted by something neither urgent nor important, but that feels at the moment vital to keeping the Earth orbiting the sun.

So standing in my laundry room, my eyes land upon Bag Land.

We used to not get plastic bags at stores, but then Covid, and now sometimes we get plastic bags.*

But that’s OK! Because our neighbor uses plastic bags because he walks his adorable dog Maggie 26 times per day. He LOVES when we bring him poo-poo bags.

And so, I shove all the bags inside a bag, and head over to his house, where I put the bags and a dog treat on his porch, and then run away because I am loving and kind, but not good at small talk and this is called “knowing who you are.”

Now I’m Buying Stuff?

The fresh air and change of scenery has refreshed my brain, and I remember that I want to shower!

So I decide to get my toiletries ready for as soon as the washer is done.

I also set an alarm for 30 minutes on my phone that says “SHOWER!” and then add this emoji: 🛀 because having a brain like mine is FUN!

(And annoying and was slowly ruining my life until I got diagnosed, but now – 🚿! Wahoo. I have new tools like setting 36 alarms a day! More soon on that.)

A bunch of you said you liked my notecards and stamp on Instagram, so I wanted to let you know that you can get the notecards here, and the stamp here, and then pens are just Papermates, and the chipmunk stickers were a gift. (Also, I like a gray stamp pad, especially first thing in the morning.)

ADHD Organization Schmorganization

As I am collecting my toiletries, I am reminded for the 907th time that I need a shower caddy that is just for my stuff.

And that means I need to make it a habit** to return my toiletries to the shower caddy after I use them EVERY TIME, or else it becomes a Wild West situation with my caring family just guessing where things go.

Do I put Washi tape on everything to identify it as mine, I stop and ask myself? Is Washi tape waterproof? Do I put it on my shampoo, conditioner, body wash … Crap, I need to order body wash. And a caddy. And maybe Washi tape … after thoroughly researching which brand is most water-resistant.

Now I’m Off and Running – I Can Totally Fix This!

Except I am not.

I am off and sitting, forgetting why I picked up my phone, and maybe trying to make a list, or maybe just mentally chastising myself for being:

  • lazy
  • disorganized
  • non-productive
  • cranky + stanky (because I still haven’t showered)
  • bad at being a person

The ADHD Feels

For me, the worst part of undiagnosed ADHD wasn’t the distractibility.

Although it was inconvenient, I worked for about 40 years to try to create systems and adhere to them and adapt them, and crack the forking code.

BUT that was nothing compared to how undiagnosed ADHD made me feel.

You Just Need a System (i.e. Bite me, Linda)

Systems aren’t easy to create. They take time and trial and error, and a lot of the advice out there for “creating a perfect morning routine,” is not meant for someone with bonkers ADHD.

That was my formal diagnosis based on scientific testing – Bonkers/Severe.

And again, peri-menopause heightens ADHD symptoms!

**So here’s a fun little habit truth nugget: When you tell someone with undiagnosed, untreated ADHD to “just make something a habit,” you are most likely just reinforcing their concerns and fears that their problem is lack of willpower, disorganization, zero motivation, and just general suckage.

How Am I This Tired?

All the creating systems and trying to adhere to systems and trying to find my keys and trying to homeschool my kids and have a schedule meant I was tired all the time.

I know a lot of us are tired for a lot of reasons. This isn’t my submission for the Tired Olympics.

I’m just saying, ADHD brains are working hard.

In my case, my ADHD brain was working ESPECIALLY HARD when it looked like I was “doing nothing.”

You are NOT Lazy

After three of us here were diagnosed and I started to learn more about ADHD, I kept saying that ADHD is like a duck floating peacefully on the water (what people see), but underneath, their little legs are pumping like a Peloton coach.

Just because people can’t see an ADHD brain working hard, doesn’t mean it isn’t.

And just because you don’t see a person with ADHD “trying,” doesn’t mean they aren’t.

Time Blindness?

Every single time I take a shower, I am NEWLY amazed that it really isn’t something you need to set aside a half-day for.

I also have this cute thing where if someone says a date, like Oct. 14, my brain can’t figure out if that is a long way away, or what day it might be when it arrives no matter how long I try to think it out. It’s kind of like if you said to me, “this project is due when Venus aligns with Saturn.”

This could be time blindness, a quirk or both.

But DON’T WORRY!

I figured this one out a long time ago.

Are you ready for the secret? You just let anxiety drive your mental car ALL the time.

Anxiety will just assume you are already late, and that on the way to your appointment you will get a flat tire, run into a train with 800 cars, and while waiting, your gas light will pop on.

Anxiety won’t let you forget, especially if you turn it up high enough.

(I’m not serious, of course. This is an example of not coping well.)

So Yeah. Anxiety.

I resisted anxiety and depression meds for a long time, but during a few really bad periods of depression, I would take meds with the goal of getting off of them as soon as possible.

Then at 35, I started regularly taking medication for my anxiety, and it was life-changing.

What I’ve learned during the past year is that women and girls with ADHD are often diagnosed with anxiety, depression or both, given medication and maybe referred to a therapist.

Meanwhile what they are actually dealing with is :

    • a combo platter of anxiety/depression and ADHD
    • or just undiagnosed ADHD
    • or anxiety and depression because they have undiagnosed ADHD and they can’t figure out why everything feels so damn hard, even though they take meds and do what they are told

Feelings of failure

Which leads to … feeling like a failure.

One of the things that I talked to my therapist about the most for YEARS was feeling like I was letting everyone down, all the time.

No matter how hard I worked; no matter how many lists I made; no matter what time I got up in the morning, I felt like I was letting everyone down and failing at pretty much everything.

This could lead to/rope itself in with actual clinical depression that one May, tried to murder me.

I’m not making a joke about suicide.

I’m trying to explain that if you have never experienced severe depression, it isn’t like you are making a choice – it’s bigger than that and it’s in your brain …

It’s as real as anything, and Dear God, if you ever find yourself dealing with severe depression, please, please get help right away. Call 911 or head to the ER. 

‘Just Quit Caffeine’

There really isn’t a way to to transition after that, but believe it or not, caffeine – or rather lack of caffeine – was seriously detrimental to my system and contributed to depressive feelings.

But again, as someone who was diagnosed with anxiety, I tried going off caffeine at least a dozen times to see if I could finally feel better!

And something weird would always happen.

I would feel … worse.

I would lose any motivation at all.

Like I would feel stuck – glued down – trapped.

When I went to see a doctor to find out if I had ADHD or if something else cognitive was brewing because I could no longer remember how my house keys worked, one of the things she asked was how I felt when I gave up caffeine.

I wanted to cry.

Not this again.

Please.

“I feel like I can’t function,” I said, “please don’t tell me I have to give up caffeine.”

She told me then that she wanted me to include moderate/healthy levels of caffeine in my diet except for on the day of my ADHD testing.

Then she told me to bring caffeine with me for right after the test, and then I did cry because I felt like maybe we were getting somewhere.

I’m Just The Worst

All of this stuff – these emotions – these worries …

All of the trying and feeling like I was failing and being exhausted, it all turned into GUILT.

*You may have noticed above that I mention occasionally using Magic Erasers and plastic bags, and I sound like I’m talking about single-handedly sinking an oil tanker and cutting down all the forests.

I am a naturally stressed, worried, concerned person who tends to feel A LOT.

And I’m really good at taking in information, which means I read an article years ago about an island of plastic garbage in the ocean and for a long time, I would choose to carry all my produce home under my armpits if I had to rather than use a plastic bag.

(This could also be an example of black and white thinking – another common ADHD symptom).

How To Keep House While Drowning

So I need to say right now, that this book rescued me from the cycle of

trying ➡️ failing ➡️ feeling guilty ➡️ feeling bad at life ➡️ feeling like I just needed to try harder … and, repeat … ➡️

If I met KC today, I would ugly cry so hard, you guys.

And don’t be confused by the book’s name.

This book is not just about cleaning. It’s about caring for our bodies and minds and souls and yes, our space.

It’s about finally learning that not being good at “care tasks,” like washing the dishes or brushing your teeth, is not a reflection of your worth as a human.

It’s one of the best things that happened to me in 2022.

Life is a lie

Because, finally, living with undiagnosed ADHD, especially as a woman or girl, is about faking it A LOT.

This is technically called “masking,” and is far more common in the female population, which often means it takes SO MUCH LONGER to get diagnosed with ADHD.

Masking is a bit like wearing a mask – because especially if you are my age, you have been told to smile through everything from active labor to root canals to ongoing sexual harassment at work.

But masking doesn’t just feel like having to put on a mask for the world … 

Taking Off the Mask Feels Terrifying

Honestly, it feels like at any moment, someone could pull off the mask Scooby-style and you will be revealed as a complete disaster of a human. And so …

  • It feels like thinking about what everyone else is thinking
  • It feels like trying to read facial cues and tone of voice and if this 🙂 means “Good job!” or “You’re getting fired tomorrow.”
  • It feels like trying to appear organized and working so hard at it, that by 4 p.m., you’re crying while making ANOTHER DAMN SPREADSHEET
  • It feels like getting straight As in school, but not learning anything or getting Ds and not knowing why
  • It feels like getting a raise, but still shaking every time you sit down at your desk
  • It feels like wondering if your partner hates you for not taking out the trash
  • It feels like pretending to be interested when someone is talking, meanwhile your your brain can’t stop thinking about something else and making lists
  • It feels like making lists. So many lists.
  • It feels like wanting someone to SEE you, and yet being terrified of what would happen if anyone knew just how scattered you feel all the time
  • It feels like getting everywhere early to prove yourself
  • It feels like giving your son tampons for his camping trip because there are people who menstruate going on the trip, and you want to be sure you thought of EVERYTHING.
  • EVERYTHING.
  • EVERYTHING.
  • It feels like sleep is just horizontal processing in the dark
  • It feels like you can’t explain yourself but you always need to
  • It feels like justifying everything
  • It feels fake
  • It feels phoney
  • It feels like most people who think they know you don’t know you at all
  • And on the very worst days, it feels like no one gives a shit, because if they did, they would HELP.

But no one is going to help, because you are the capable one. You are the glue and the staples, baby.

You are reliable, dependable.

You are loyal to a fault.

You smile.

You are funny.

You say you’re fine.

You say it to other people, and you say it to yourself.

You know that your can hard-work your way through anything. The world has taught you that.

It has taught you exactly how to be.

And that’s why it can take 45 years to learn that it never had to be this hard.

It’s Fine. No Really.

OK. That was sort of a bummer.

But it’s also real, and I’ve been holding all this in for a year/46 years.

So I’m going to say this so you don’t feel like you have to call my mom or something:

I’m good.

Really.

Getting diagnosed has helped me a lot. Getting medication has helped me a lot.

But you know what’s helped the very most?

Knowing that I’m not just a lazy, broken fuck-up.

I’m not.

I’m actually pretty amazing.

I bet you are too, but you might need some support and resources.

We’ll talk about that soon.

The ADHD Series

Post 1: So … We All Have ADHD

Post 2: ADHD: There’s Just One Kind Now, But Not Really (The Long and Confusing History of What We Call ADHD)

Post 4: ADHD: Meds and Regrets (but not how you think)

This post contains affiliate links.

Image by Chen from Pixabay

It’s not Perfection, it’s Indiana Jones

by Kara S. Anderson

Over the weekend, I made a big announcement: I’ve decided to close my shop here at karasanderson.com.

I know the whole shop closing probably forever thing may have been a little unexpected.

And beyond closing my shop, I’m making some other big changes as well. I’m going to put my blog and social media on hiatus soon too.

(The plan right now is that my blog posts will remain available, but any free downloads on posts might not be available because I’m pausing my email service.)

***

As many of you know, my son started college in September. You don’t know that my daughter has grown up so much in the past couple of months – driving, getting her braces off, getting a job, plus she has big plans to start dual enrollment classes in January.

And so things here are changing drastically.

For a while, I was telling people life felt like that game Perfection. Do you remember? You had 60 seconds to get all the pieces into place or the game would “pop,” and you had to start over. (Dear Lord, they still make it.)

Sidenote: I feel like this game is at least partially responsible for the perfectionism and anxiety I have dealt with since I was 6.

***

But recently I was doing a speaking thing, and realized it’s not the game Perfection – it’s that scene from the third Indiana Jones movie:

Indy is rushing through a series of secret rituals in hopes of retrieving the holy grail, a cup that can be filled with water. One drink grants eternal life, and in this case, the grail will also save Indy’s father, who has been shot.

Indy has to make a literal leap of faith, and when he does, the path appears.

***

And so THAT is really more what it’s like, friends. I don’t have to put all the pieces in place. I just need to have faith and take the next step.

I will tell you since beginning this process, I have felt so much lighter. I don’t necessarily see a path ahead, but I feel it. And for now, that’s enough.

My whole deal – writing, podcasting, my book – they’re all about homeschooling with you. I’ve never been an expert offering advice. I’ve always felt more like a big sister – sharing the raw truth with you, and trying to remind you to be kinder to yourself, more patient, gentler …

***

Right now, I need those things.

I need slow.

I need to knit, and read, and drink tea and yes, write, but maybe not for public consumption just yet.

***

So please know, that as I find my way, I will miss you.

A few people have said “Kara, maybe THIS is the next step – maybe you help mamas navigate what to do as their children grow up and move on.”

And maybe. Maybe at some point.

But it’s all so raw and new – it would feel like serving you crudité instead of a lovingly slow-cooked, nourishing vegetable soup.

It would be fine, but you’d be hungry again in a half-hour.

***

That said, I’ll share a few things that are helping me:

In fact, during that speaking thing last week, the host asked where people could find me and I answered “therapy.”

It’s true. Therapy is a tremendous help.

And you know what my therapist asks me every session …

She asks what I am doing for self-care.

Self-care is a big deal to me, because I didn’t think I had time for it for a long time, but what was really going on was that I didn’t think I was worthy of it and also, I thought that to be a good mom, I had to give my kids every ounce of me.

That is not the recipe.

The actual recipe should go more like, give your kids some of you and then take REALLY good care of yourself so you can wake up tomorrow and have something more to give.

I’ve written a lot about self-care over the years, mostly because I’ve been trying to figure it out.

It isn’t easy. It’s a practice.

***

 

Which brings me back to perfection … the life-choking trait, not the game.

A long time ago now, I changed my tagline on this blog to “Connection, Not Perfection.”

And here I am, seemingly disconnecting.

What the heck, Kara?

So let me tell you this: This is the part of the movie where the hero (YOU!) realizes that she has had everything she needed inside her this whole time. The other character, let’s call her Dumbledore, was just there as a guide for a while.

And it still stands – what I hope for you and your family is connection, not perfection.

Friends, let connection be the lighthouse you seek when the seas get rough, and you’re not sure how to get home again.

I can’t tell you if I’ll be back, or when, but I can tell you – it’s never been about perfection, Dear Heart.

It’s about courage and showing up and continuing to show up, and connecting and reconnecting, and then knowing when it’s time to let go.

So much love to you,

Kara

P.S. A lot of you have asked about my book. It’s not going anywhere. You can still grab it in paperback, ebook or audio.

In fact, play this if you need a little hug:

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Launching a kid (graduation. real time.)

by Kara S. Anderson

It turns out, getting into college isn’t actually the hard part.

I mean it is. Sure. There are visits and applications, and I guess like 18 years of helping your child turn into a college-ready person, but now that my oldest has been accepted to college, I’m learning that the hoop-jumping only increases as we get closer to August.

Part of me wants to go back to that day in February, the day before his 18th birthday, as we all stood around his phone at 4 p.m., waiting for the email telling us whether he got into his college of choice, and then the joyous relief.

It’s weird how memories work, because in truth, that day was mostly terrible.

I spent the morning crying in my office, certain that if he didn’t get into his top choice school that it was my fault; that I had somehow failed him through homeschooling.

***

And now I find myself here again, wanting to help, but not wanting to push – wanting so much to set him up for success as he prepares to leave home.

Wanting.

And yet, sometimes, for a moment, I am able to take a step back and realize this isn’t about me. This isn’t my journey.

I’m the Dumbledore in this story, not the Harry.

***

This is hard of course, so I am coping in my usual ways – tea and Voxer – sending out messages and pleas and saying things that build up until I’m ready to burst (Instant Pot Emotions).

My friend Vanessa reminded me that maybe it’s OK to help, because teen brains are still forming, but not help too much, because my own peri-menopausal brain struggles some days to keep up with the very basics.

How many times can one wash her hands and note we are low on hand soap, and still not be able to remember to order hand soap?

(3 times so far today)

My friend Mary reminded me that all kids are different, and to just focus on what my child needs and that sadly, there is no one checklist that is going to fit every kid in every situation.

And then my friend Shawna, who is a year ahead of me in all of this, provides reassurance that I am not alone and that it will get better:

“It was nerve-wracking and dumb for six months, but it worked out.”

This is my new morning mantra.

***

And that’s what I’m holding on to right now, that if my child really wants to go to this college (and if it’s meant to work out), that I can relax a little; stop making lists and tugging at my hair and thinking that there’s some magical way out there to make all of this easier.

Even the box my son’s graduation party invites came in reminds me: “It always seems impossible until it’s done.”

Thanks Canva.

But also, SHUT UP.

***

Because let me tell you what no stressed mother needs ever: trite little sayings.

What I 100 percent do not need right now is some Hobby Lobby plaque telling me to Live, Laugh and Hug a Terrier to get through this.

What I do need is for it to just be done – in the rearview mirror – over.

Complete.

(Right?)

***

 

Until we get there I’m trying to remember:

This isn’t forever.

It’s an ass-kicker, but it’s not eternal.

At some point, he will either get all ready for college or not, and the difference will not come down to whether or not I worry hard enough.

It’s a high emotion time.

I’m so jacked on adrenaline, I could lift a car.

I am basically The Hulk with a bullet journal.

This is hard, yes, but it feels SO HARD because it’s such an emotional thing.

It’s OK to care so much.

All the feelings are me loving my kid.

So it’s not bad that I worry, and it’s not bad that sometimes I want to take over too much, and it’s normal to be a little bit of a lunatic right now.

BUT …

Ultimately, this is his.

It’s a tricky thing when your kids become adults, because you’ve know them pretty much the whole time (or at least a lot of the time).

You know exactly who they used to be, and all the weird things they did when they were 4, but you’ve only gotten glimpses of who they’re becoming.

You can see exactly where they might struggle, and so it’s really tempting to jump in, and yet maybe your therapist also tells you to “Stop trying to fix it all, Kara.”

***

I was doing a journaling class this weekend and the teacher asked a broad question: Knowing that everything turns out beautifully in the end, what would you change today?

I immediately knew my answer.

I would stop acting like a nut about this college thing.

I wold stop acting like this was all so hard, such a trial.

I would do everything I could to enjoy these days with my son before things change.

***

Sometimes, when I get quiet, and my brain stops spinning for just a few seconds, I wonder if that’s part of the hard too – I wonder if making lists and marking deadlines on the calendar is easier than feeling the big emotions.

I wonder if my brain is tricking me – sending stress hormones flying so I don’t have to slow down and feel the huge shift happening.

I heard author Katrina Kenison say that once our kids leave for college, it’s never the same.

She said it wistfully – sadly. You could tell it hurt her heart.

I heard this on the same day that my son was accepted to college. The same day I had cried – so scared that he wouldn’t be accepted. So scared I had failed him.

We celebrated, and a few hours later I heard Katrina say “it’s never the same,” and I felt such a mix of emotions, but still the big one was relief.

Silly me.

I thought we had done something, and here we had actually started something.

***

As I was writing this, my son texted me to tell me he had found a piano on campus (he’s in early enrollment classes at our local college) and was playing for the first time in years.

It made me recall this post, and specifically what he told me then:

“Mom? I feel like I was born with music in my heart and every time someone pushes me, the space for it gets smaller and smaller.”

***

It’s all a good reminder that so often, our kids don’t need us to push.

They just need us to see them – to be there as they grow into who they are meant to be.

But friends, this is not the easy way.

In fact I will tell you that if you want a quick, simple method for raising your kids, you should pretty much do the exact opposite of me.

Stop listening.

Bark orders.

Keep ’em in line and put them in onesies that proclaim their futures before they can hold up their own heads: “Lil Linebacker” and “Baby Beauty Queen.”

***

But all that always felt desperately wrong to me, and so I tried this other thing …

It’s a killer. It breaks my heart. I worry sometimes that I’m getting it wrong.

I worry right now.

I worry and I want.

***

 

A few weeks ago, my son started growing a bonsai tree because of course he did.

Bonsais start differently than I expected – when they sprout, it’s not in the way you’d think – these thin little green tendrils – so fragile.

I can’t help it. I want to care for this little plant. I want to protect it from curious cats and follow the directions step by step to ensure it thrives.

But …

It’s not my plant.

If I were to take over – even if I just tell my son what to do and still let him do it – it’s no longer his plant.

A bonsai tree can live to be more than 100 years old.

So you can see what I’m getting at here.

At some point, we have to let go.

***

I swear to you, he just texted again wondering about getting a degree in neuroscience.

He’s got a roommate. He’s figured out his meal plan.

He knows which dorm he wants to live in and why.

He’s thinking about majors. He’s doing the work.

I am support staff.

Dumbledore.

Here. Always.

But also, staying here.

He’s not a fragile little bonsai sprout. The past 18 years weren’t nothing.

He strong and ready and I’m …

I’m getting there.

 

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