I’m a Life Hack Junkie

Finding the lost girl.

I’m a lifetime member of the Finally-Getting-My-Shit-Together Club. Self-improvement is my jam. I have a library history full of books about time management, creating healthy habits, diets, detoxes, self-hypnosis, exercise, home improvement, and beauty tips. My favorites are on my bookshelf. Then there are the TED Talks, podcasts, blogs, mailing lists, and yes, Substack subscriptions.

I am in no way disparaging the work of those gurus and self-help masters. I love many of them and will continue to gobble up their wisdom.  I will never stop trying to improve myself.  However, I’m hoping I can find a place where I accept who I am and what I’m doing with my life right now, not some ideal future version of me if only I could just find the right hack. But I’m addicted to looking for the hack.

Lately I’ve been wondering if there is more to my constant search for self-betterment. After reading Atomic Habits by James Clear and Awaken the Giant Within by Tony Robbins last year my self-help efforts were kicked into high gear.  I was a goal setting maniac. I quit drinking. I joined a gym. I started working on a novel, and then one day, I just stopped. My progress suddenly stalled, and I could not regain my momentum no matter what I tried. I reached out, once again, to a medical professional and described my sudden lack of motivation and energy. Once again, I was prescribed antidepressants. I’m still taking them. They aren’t helping. Much. Or maybe they are helping a little. I am here, writing, after-all.

Here’s what I think: I have undiagnosed adult ADHD. I had undiagnosed ADHD as a child. ADHD wasn’t really known about by many when I was a child. Maybe I would have been diagnosed if it had been, but probably not. I was an obnoxious student, but smart and learned what I needed to know somehow. I’m not sure how, by osmosis or something. It certainly wasn’t through focused listening and paying attention to my teachers. It wasn’t book learnin’ either. I don’t think I cracked a single one in school, not a single assigned book.

My desire to fit in, be part of the group, and seen as normal was greater than my desire to seek attention by goofing off and trying to make the other kids laugh.

Somewhere around fifteen or sixteen years old I learned how to suppress most of the weirdness. My desire to fit in, be part of the group, and seen as normal was greater than my desire to seek attention by goofing off and trying to make the other kids laugh. I behaved how one is supposed to behave, became an honor student (who was suspended once and had the invitation to join the honor society handed to her by the advisor while serving in-house suspension, but that’s another story.) and couldn’t wait to get my ass out of school!

I jumped into adulthood and chased the life I wanted. Being married with children is when the struggle really ramped up. And now, after years of being treated for depression and anxiety with therapy and pharmaceuticals, self-medication with food and alcohol, prayer, fasting, giving my time, energy and passion to church and countless fresh starts, I am questioning everything because I think I have ADHD, and that has been the underlying cause of so many issues. So many.

I recently read an article describing women like me as being part of a “lost generation” of women. ADHD manifests differently in girls and they tend to mask the symptoms to fit in. I was certainly one of those moms who was trying desperately to seem like I had it all together. I remember so many panic cleaning sessions after getting a phone call from a friend or a fellow church member or worse yet, my mother-in-law letting me know they’d be dropping by. No wonder I felt perpetually tired, anxious and depressed.

“The doctor said ADHD tends to run in families. It’s likely one or both of my parents has it, and Mom, I think you have it.”

I haven’t sought a diagnosis despite having strongly suspected my neurodivergent status for a few years now. My daughter sought her own diagnosis at 30, and when she told me about it, she said, “The doctor said ADHD tends to run in families. It’s likely one or both of my parents has it, and Mom, I think you have it.”

I think it would be a good idea to see my primary care provider and get a referral to be evaluated. It’s the advice I’ve been given by friends who’ve been there, the internet and my gynecologist, who I recently spoke to about how much worse the symptoms are now that I’m approaching menopause. I wonder if I’m too old to worry about it, but maybe I’m really just afraid to find out that life could have been so much better if I’d gotten this figured out earlier.

Meanwhile I’ll keep looking for the hack. I haven’t learned how to love and accept myself unconditionally, but I’m getting closer. If I figure it all out, I will shout it from the rooftops and tell everyone I know. Stay tuned!