I didn’t cry. But I felt like it. I am hoping the title would draw you in, dear reader, out of sympathy for my cause. Also, the title of my last post, in which I promised you this post, was ‘I Lied’. So now the posts are twinned in links and in rhyme and also in sequence.
I Tried.
Maybe that will be the title of my next post, to continue the theme of rhyming titles. But there is enough trying going on to fill more than one blog post, so I’ll be more specific: I have been trying for weeks to get around to working out a schedule in which I set aside specific times to work on some of the projects and ideas I’ve been brewing, and making a go of them on a more serious basis. I know that if I don’t define this schedule ahead of time, the pursuits just won’t happen, because there is always something else that urgently needs attending to.
That’s why I found myself at the mall just after drop-off on a Monday morning. I have been taking a Monday morning Yoga class this semester and last, which is not an ideal situation for me, but that is when this particular teacher was available. Monday morning is when I really need to get moving on all the things that have been building up over the weekend, and putting them off for another half day really makes me lose momentum first thing in the week, which is kind of a buzz-kill for my ego. However, I love the teacher and I need the exercise so I signed up. This is also the first time that the class had started up again since the pandemic. I pledged not to sign up again, however, if the class remains in that time slot. I need Monday mornings to gather and organize myself for the week. This sort of prep work could also be achieved on a Sunday night, in theory, but in practice, Sundays are too unreliable. So this particular Monday morning was a bit of a gift.
The mall was empty. I got myself a coffee and sat down. I realized that I had forgotten my medication that morning, despite being reminded to take it by DH. Actually, he reminded me as I was floozing around, forgetting three times and him reminding me three times to bring out snacks for the kid’s lunches. I was miffed when he used that moment to say ‘take your meds’ because I am resentful of having my ADHD pointed out, and I’m sensitive to the fact that I use medication to control it. So I didn’t take the pills in that moment, partly to spite him and partly because I got distracted on my way to getting the tupperware. Such is the life of an ADHDer.
There I was, with my coffee, in the still-quiet food court, trying to work filling out page 1 of my new planner , but things were not going as planned. The first section said YEARLY GOALS: What will you accomplish this year? Then there were five blank lines.
I became emotional. I couldn’t write a thing. I, who can bang out two thousand words like a fluid, animated, flesh covered AI chat bot. It’s not that I couldn’t think of anything to write, but none of the things that came to mind seemed the right size or shape to fit in to such a limited space. These five blank lines, spanning all of three inches square, loomed large, and felt outsized in their importance . In comparison, my big plans and dreams suddenly felt selfish, unmotherly, petty, overambitious, or poorly formed. I don’t know if anyone besides me will ever be reading my YEARLY GOALS, but writing ‘Start up my own thing’ felt like it deserved to be sent back to the drawing board, because it sounded like it came out of the mouth of a 5 year-old, and because it’s not a very actionable item. It’s nonspecific and underdeveloped and pretty useless, insofar as goals go. I needed something more appropriate, more relevant– more impressive.
That is when I felt like crying. Frustration. I hate not being able to express myself, even if I’m just expressing things to myself. For weeks I had been thinking ‘if I could only sit down for a moment to write down what I want, I will be able to start working on what I want.’ But the things I want, it turns out, are silly. They feel like they should be categorized as guilty pleasures or busywork, not anything valid or worthy.
(An aside: Let it be known that I acknowledge and am extremely grateful for my situation in life, and that I recognize that there are people who have concerns that are much more immediate and dire. When I say that I felt despair, it is in relation to how I was feeling moments before, and not in relation to people who are truly desperate.)
I didn’t cry, though. I said to myself “Refine, Self, concentrate!” I needed to sort through all the Big Feelings I was feeling, sift through the possibilities and form a concrete — or , better yet, five concrete goals. I was trying to access the logical side of my brain. It would know what to do. That’s when I noticed the music coming over the loudspeakers. I’d been singing along with The Weekend when I first walked in to the mall, and when I’d ordered my coffee it had faded to the back of my consciousness, but now that I was trying to focus, it had become distracting. I don’t like other people’s words floating around when I’m trying to get my own words to float. I don’t understand how people can focus on anything that requires reading or writing when there are lyrics hovering or people talking nearby.
Here’s the thing (and I’m sure I’ve blogged about this before), I am ambitious and I am motivated, but I am ambiguous about what direction I should be heading in. Part of my problem is indecision. I don’t know whether I want to be self employed or look for a regular nine-to-five. Also on the table is the possibility of going back to school. And if I do that, do I invest in a four-year program or look for a quick and dirty qualification? How do I forge this new path while maintaining the quality that I’m responsible for in my current path? My family, being present for vacations, hosting holidays. There isn’t a lot more space in my existing schedule, so what do I keep, and what do I give up. This discussion is fodder for another blog post (I think I say that a lot), but for now I just want to explain to you why I cried—or almost did.
It’s the classic ADHD predicament—Jack of all trades, master of none. Not to toot my own horn, but there’s a lot I’m qualified for. And here’s the even bigger rub: this precious mall Monday morning isn’t the first time I’ve tried to sort through my options. I’ve been doing it since the kids were little and I stopped having a regular job. I have started things, I have investigated things. I haven’t stuck with things.
(Another aside: The reason I haven’t stuck with things isn’t because of the other classic ADHD predicament—not being able to hold on to a job. I have held on to many jobs and been very successful in work environments. I am, thankfully, very employable, reliable, and even punctual when someone is counting on me.)
I didn’t want to waste this precious Monday morning. The next logical step if I can’t see a way through a big problem is to try attacking it from a different angle, or break it down into smaller problems. If I couldn’t get the YEARLY GOALS done in this moment, I’d ease into it by starting from the other end and at least get started on filling out the daily and weekly pages of the planner and circle back to the tough stuff when I’d had some time to reflect. That’s when I realized that I’d forgotten one thing in addition to my medication– my to-do list. I keep a notebook, like many people, where I write down the things I have to do so that I don’t forget them. Really, a notebook for me is more of a butterfly net than a planner. I use it to try and catch the maximum number of ideas that I can before they fly away, and then they stay there until I let them go. I’d had the presence of mind to print out the extra planner pages that morning but I hadn’t grabbed my notebook off the desk. Argh. I gave up. I’d have to do it later.
I went to the gym, I sat with these thoughts, I blogged and I calmed down. Happily, I have come up with a couple of concrete goals, and I’ve set goals for what a couple of other goals might be, which include goals designed to alleviate the guilt of wanting things for myself:
By the end of 2023:
- I want to be earning $1500/month from freelance work.
- I want to have published something that I’ve written.
- Get basement reno started.
- One goal having to do with self improvement overall
- One goal having to do with family quality of life or progress.
Good? Great. Progress. I’m proud. I reserve the right to dip into my indecision and revise these if necessary.
WordWiles 