Since the age of 18, I have lost four passports. This sportsman-like proficiency in losing valuable documents is partly a result of having attention-deficit/hyperactivity disorder (ADHD).
I didn't get a say in my birth. My mother and father took the executive decision to procreate without my input, and I landed on the scene in the April of 1985 before I could register any objections. Upon my arrival, the doctors deduced a few things: I was a boy. I was healthy. And, given the amount of wailing and thrashing, I appeared mildly inconvenienced by this whole birth scenario. For nearly 32 years after that, the doctors didn't miss much--except to diagnose me with attention-deficit/hyperactivity disorder (ADHD).
In my experience, adult attention-deficit/hyperactivity disorder (ADHD) creates strong impulsivity. For me, that means buying unnecessary items, diving into uncertain situations without proper consideration, and being a poor conversationalist.
Technology is no doubt distracting. Our phones are constantly buzzing with notifications, and apps are vying for our attention so they can increase their revenue from advertisers. Shows are increasingly binge-worthy, video games have evolved to the graphical fidelity of live-action films, and the endless sea of content gets larger and larger each day. For people with attention-deficit/hyperactivity disorder (ADHD), who already struggle to focus, the engrossing pull of technology is all the stronger.
Our always-connected world means learning new skills is a mere click away. However, this is a double-edged sword for me, thanks to adult attention-deficit/hyperactivity disorder (ADHD).
Throughout my life, I've never felt like I could simply enjoy a moment. Each one felt rushed and incomplete. A new episode of a TV show? I'd watch it while I did my homework. I'd play video games while I listened to a podcast. I'd scramble to write something at the last moment, just before a deadline.
Beyond the scope of a checking account, money and I have never been on speaking terms. I suspect attention-deficit/hyperactivity disorder (ADHD) is making me bad with money. When others speak of investing, 401(k)s, or, frankly, even savings, I feel the desperate desire for a Rosetta Stone to help me translate. I took four years of French in high school, and I can still remember "Le chien est sur la route!" in case there's ever a dog in the road, and I need to alert somebody, but Finance might as well be Ancient Sumerian as far as my comprehension is concerned.
Staying consistent can be a challenge for anyone. However, staying consistent can be especially difficult for those affected by attention-deficit/hyperactivity disorder (ADHD).
Living alone has either been the best thing for me or the worst, and it fluctuates often. As an adult living with attention-deficit/hyperactivity disorder (ADHD), it's easy to stray from the task at hand or spend a whole day doing nothing, which is why I strive to make my apartment ADHD-friendly.
I'm a person on the Internet, which means large corporations like Google and Facebook have likely collected enough data on me to recreate me as a Metaverse AI. The benefit of this is that my social media feeds are finely tuned to align with my interests, and Instagram recommends me products that I can't afford but definitely want. That said, I sometimes worry that the algorithms know me too well, especially when TikTok started showing me video after video of people discussing their attention-deficit/hyperactivity disorder (ADHD).