You would think - at least I did - that it would be easy to stop overdoing everything and take the advice to just stop and rest. As much as I hate the concept of people dishing out “permission slips”, I can almost accept it from a doctor. Until I can’t.
Having a hyperactive brain (and to an extent, a body to match) means I’m really not good at just sitting or lying down, or drifting, despite having the enormous privilege of being able to do so just now. When I do any of those things, I do not relax. I start to rev my engine because I’m reallyreallyreally bored.
I wonder whether “relax” is the best advice for someone with ADHD. Maybe it would be better to suggest they do the thing that brings them peace, however revved-up it may appear from the outside, as long as it’s not done out of obligation or perceived responsibility. I can see the benefits of a racing mind slowing down if the racing is caused by external pressure, but what if it’s your natural state? But wait though…does “natural” always equate to “good”? I don’t think so.
Yes, revving. In a not particularly restorative way.
Having spent a day musing on this, I realised that I was just trying to get out of class and indeed I do need to slow right down for a while. Winter (I like that as a verb). Semi-hibernate. It’s what my animal body needs even if it pushes my kind of brain way out of her comfort zone.
Can you hear my fingers tapping?
A deal needed to be made, clearly. There must be something that’s like a task or a project or a job or a responsibility but without obligation, expectations or, er, responsibility.
That, I suspect, would be play.
Play.
Puh-lay.
Plaaaaaay.
I’ve never really been any good at that. Not since I was about 10.
Can I call it something else? “Just using my imagination and coming up with ideas and messing about with them for no reason and with no thought of anyone ever seeing any of it”? That’ll do. That sounds like fun.
I actually have years of experience with this practice. Except, in the past, I’ve always thought in the back of my mind that other people should see what I’d come up with. That I should make it a business. Make actual money. Because heaven knows we could use the income and wouldn’t it be great to be one of those cool people who runs courses and programmes, and mentors and teaches? I think it would.
Just not enough to actually do it. Ever. I’ve got close. I have complete six week courses stashed away somewhere - at least I did until the recent Don’t-Be-Dad Declutter. I owned, at one time, a dozen domains. Many of you will be familiar with the way my online ID has changed every six months for the last 105 years. The ideas, the visions, the things! All the things I have done and - as they say - failed to launch.
That’s not good for one’s self-belief. I’m now at the stage where I have an idea (I’m bloody brilliant at ideas by the way) and then instantly tell myself, “But I’ll never do it; drop it now…” and I walk away. Which is a shame but not unusual among a certain demographic.
So in response to my friend
’s prompt for today: here I am. My body is still needing recovery time, as is my heart, but my mind is the kid in the backseat cheating at I-Spy, singing too loud and grinding crisps into the carpet. She needs, I’ll admit, to play.I’m going to let her loose on Wix. Let her have a few domains. A secret Insta account. Maybe some art supplies. A jigsaw or two and a pile of notebooks. And it’s all just for her. No expectations, no responsibility.
See what happens. Maybe this is how I winter.
I love this more than I can express. Mainly because I’m delighting in discovering all the words and wonderful peeps my recently discovered and diagnosed ADHD writers brain can relate to. It makes me feel so much better about everything. Recently I’ve been sitting with the words ‘permission to play’ as my own exploration of how I can honour the need to ‘rest without resting’! It’s a totally new concept for me as well and I feel it might well be an ongoing exploration for the next few months or years!
Did you write this, or did I? So surreal, you just described my inner monologue sooo well!
Rest, reeessssttt, is so tricky, tricksy, terribly difficult for me too. My coach recently prompted me to realise that rest doesn't have to be passive - it can be restorative **action**, and I try to remind myself that it is ok if I find an exhausting walk in the bush much more restful than trying in vain to nap. Thank you for this post, feeling totally seen here!