Pulled Out Of The Pit

Getting a pocket notebook and a pen was the second-best thing I ever did for my ADHD… the first was when I actually started using it.

I'd been getting ready to update a draft I've been working on when something caught my eye and distracted me. I had Substack pulled up on my laptop, and I'd just read a Note posted by someone in the throes of ADHD overwhelm.

I felt myself grit my teeth through pursed lips. My eyes drifted past my laptop screen and out the window as I did some mental math...

I didn't have time for this.

After working on the draft, I still had a call to prep for. Yet, I couldn't help myself; I could feel the fatigue draped throughout those words. Memories flooded my head of late nights in college, trying to will myself to compensate for the hours of daylight I'd felt I'd squandered, even though I'd been sitting in exactly the same seat with the same determination then, too. People joke about all-nighters as some sort of college-student rite of passage, but those shame spirals followed me into the workforce until I'd finally figured out how to handle them.

I blinked. Then, I exhaled louder than expected. Staring at the despair and resignation of the words on that screen, I just felt something stir in me that I couldn't ignore.

Ok, fine—respond if you must, but make it fast.

After clicking the button to reply, my cursor flashed in place for a few moments. A sudden hint of doubt had crept in. I mean really, who am I to be doling out advice? That's what I'd thought to myself while my hands hovered above my keyboard.

From where I'd been sitting at my desk, I looked over at the stack of books on the shelf against the wall. Then at the ones on the opposite wall. I'd read all of them and more in my search for answers. I pictured the bike path along the lake, where I'd spent hours running and listening to podcasts I'd hoped would help, too.

My eyes shot back to my screen and I dropped my fingers onto the keys, a smile pulling softly at the corners of my mouth. I'm no guru, but I'd done enough digging to know which gurus were wrong.

I started typing.

Not long after, I deleted the whole paragraph. Too preachy. So, brow furrowed and slightly frustrated, I'd taken another deep breath and resigned myself to just share what actually helped me pull out of those pits of overwhelm.

"If it’s helpful, here’s what’s worked for me..." I began.

As I continued to write, I thought of it like a Q&A with myself.

Q: When I’m overwhelmed by the amount of stuff I have to do…

A: I brain dump a list of every “task” floating around in my head on a fresh page of paper (it’s called cognitive idling, and this is how I get it to stop).

Q: When I know I have stuff to do but can’t start…

A: I start another new page, write the date at the top, pick 3 things from the big list and write them as dot points under the date.

Crossing them out feels like the best thing ever—especially because you can look back and see what you accomplished. Seeing it like that makes it real for me and helps with that cognitive idling thing too.

Q: When I’ve started a thing but can’t keep going…
(you know, because of all the other things I’ve started, too)

A: I take out that second, smaller list, and pick one thing from it to focus on. Then I set a timer (I use 45m intervals, but many use 20m—choose a number that feels right to you), close or minimize any open tabs on my laptop that are not the thing I’m working on, and hit play on an instrumental playlist.

I tell myself to focus—really focus—for 5m, and if I can’t get into what I’m doing, I can pick one of the other two dot points from the small list. For what it’s worth, it’s a trick… I don’t think I ever realize when 5m is up.

Next thing I know, the 45m timer goes off.

Checking my watch, I sat back and scanned what I'd written. Satisfied (enough), I hit reply, opened the draft I'd gone to Substack for in the first place, and set a timer.