Head in the Clouds

Adults, Kids, Genes, Divorce

I can attest to the fact that adult ADD can contribute to divorce. It was one of many factors contributing to mine.

Not surprisingly, ADD in children can play a role in divorce as well. Someone just mailed me this USA Today article: “Children Who Have ADHD Can Strain Marriages.”

I see that other publications have also reported on the research in question, some in more detail. But the USA Today  article discusses a piece of the picture that people sometimes forget—genetics:

Because ADHD can be inherited, parents often have it too, and that may hinder marriage, says Andrea Chronis-Tuscano, a psychologist at the University of Maryland. If children have ADHD, their mothers are 24 times more likely than other mothers to have it, and fathers are five times more likely, her studies find. Adults with ADHD may be impulsive and find it hard to concentrate or solve problems.

"That can lead to conflict in marriage," she says, "and a child with ADHD only adds to the stress."

It’s a reminder that the big picture tends to be more complex than people often think it is.

Howie Mandel Has ADD

I’d heard Howie Mandel’s name before, but until a few days ago, I didn’t know what he was famous for. Now I know that Howie Mandel is a comedian, an actor, and the host of a TV game show—and that he has ADD.

CHADD, ADDA, the ADHD Coaches Organization, and Shire (a drug company) teamed up to create an educational campaign about adult ADD, featuring Mandel. I think it’s great that Mandel is willing to out himself in the service of public education.

But, honestly, I was a little disappointed when I checked it out the campaign’s website. That’s because I suspect that Mandel is famous not just in spite of his ADD—as the site suggests—but because of it. What  makes someone successful in his field? Creativity, high energy, an inventive sense of humor—traits you tend to see in people with ADD.

Still, I’m a sucker for an ADD success story. If you are too, check out the website Adult ADHD Is Real.

Those People

In yesterday’s post, I wrote about my daughter’s frustration with the boisterous boys in her class (you can roll your eyes along with her here). And I wrote about how I try and inject a bit of empathy for those boys into my conversations with her. But it’s not like I’m so all-compassionate myself. Here’s the grown-up version of that story.

I’m thinking about all the people I’ve judged over the years—people who, in hindsight, might have had more in common with me than I thought. Like the music professor back in college who took months to hand back our analyses of sonatas. Or the woman who kept talking to me at a workshop for psychotherapists (the topic was psychoactive meds) when I was trying to listen to the presenter. Or the author of an article in a ski magazine who bragged about the avalanche-prone gullies he’d skied and the beer he’d guzzled back at the trailhead.

I don’t have to like those behaviors any more than my daughter has to like what the boys in her class do (roll eyes again here). If a neighbor’s drumming is too loud or the seamstress holds onto my jacket with the broken zipper for months, if a store clerk messes up or someone drives right on my tail, then passes near the top of the hill, I can set boundaries—talk to the person, file a complaint, call the police. It’s even OK (the blogger reminds herself) to feel angry.

But it also helps to remember that I might hear confessions about similar behaviors from the lively, creative, and caring people in my support groups for adults with ADD. Just remembering that helps me be a little more compassionate.

Those Boys

Last year, in third grade, my daughter started rolling her eyes when she talked about the boys in her class. The boys were too noisy. The boys were distracting everyone. The whole class had to wait until the boys settled down.

But she may have more in common than she thinks with those boys she’s complaining about. “I’m quiet in class,” she told me the other day, “except when I can’t help talking to my neighbor.” I’ve seen her do that, too, at school or ballet: She pokes a friend. She whispers something. They giggle.

All this speaks to the differences between boys and girls when it comes to ADD. A boy might be more likely to squirm around and start wrestling with the boy next to him during circle time, whereas a girl might be more likely to turn to her friend and, well, do just what my daughter does. In fact, some experts say that talking a lot or being extremely social can be a type of hyperactivity—a kind girls are more prone to.

My daughter prides herself on how she acts at school—and in general she truly does behave well. Her pride might speak in part to society’s expectation that girls—more so than boys—act in a quiet, polite, and organized way. That pressure can push a girl with ADD to keep it together during school, if she can, waiting until afterward to, let’s see, do trick riding on her bike, perform backward somersaults over the couch, and break a slat on her bed by jumping on it. (I need to get under there with some wood glue one of these days.)

When my daughter complains about the boys, I sympathize with her about how irritating their behavior must be. But I try to talk about the boys in an understanding way, as well, pointing out that it might be really, truly hard for some of them to sit still. That some of them might have ADD, like Mom. That it might be just as hard for them as it is for my daughter sometimes to sit in a crowded circle of fidgety children.

But it’s not like I’m so perfect on the compassion front myself. More on that in tomorrow’s post.

ADD and the Olympics

I didn’t watch a bit of this last Olympics. I was afraid I’d get sucked into watching hours of stuff I wasn’t that interested in, waiting to see events—gymnastics, maybe—that were sure to come on after I should have been asleep.

But a guy I know who has ADD did watch. And he e-mailed me to suggest I write a post about swimmer Michael Phelps, who (in case you pay even less attention to sports than I do) won eight gold medals in Beijing—the most one person has ever won in a single Olympics. My correspondent wrote so eloquently that, with his permission, I’m just going to use his own words:

As I watched the Olympics, Michael Phelps's mother spoke movingly about how Michael has ADD, how he had been diagnosed as a child, how he always had to be moving, how his coach recognized his swimming potential and worked with him since childhood, how the movement of swimming involving both sides of his body helped him, in fact how without swimming his life lacked structure and meaning, how competitive swimming saved his life. Michael Phelps was standing right there beside his mother, nodding his head in agreement. Did you see that interview?

And now, Michael Phelps is at the top of the world.

Would you consider writing about him, as the ADD poster child, to show that ADD has some advantages and some disadvantages? About how it's not a disease to be overcome, but a personality type that is lifelong? Did you have any inspired thoughts as you watched Michael swim?

Well, I didn’t watch Michael swim. But I’m inspired now!

And, after unsuccessfully trying to find that interview online, I’m blowing my nose on my napkin. It’s because I broke right down and cried when I read the last paragraph of this New York Times parenting column about Michael Phelps’s mom and his ADD.

Blog and Forum on ADD and Marriage

At a CHADD conference once, I went to a talk on ADD and relationships. At some point, the presenter opened up the floor, and spouses of people with ADD started talking. What a lack of understanding, and what a lot of bitterness! I was cringing. At least one person with ADD confided in me later that she’d left the room because it was just too hard to listen.

It can be like that when you go to Ned Hallowell and Melissa Orlov’s blog and forum on ADD and marriage. On the other hand, you can also find balance and insight there. Orlov’s own posts stand out as honest and wise, sometimes providing a needed antidote to the resentment that can creep into the conversation.

Do be careful about wandering around the site if your self-esteem is a little out of shape. One person posted that she was glad she started with this thread instead of some of the others.

But the site provides a terrific opportunity for ADD and non-ADD partners to share their experiences. In the best posts and threads, the site is a great tool for building compassion—and, hopefully, better relationships.

Technical Difficulties Fixed

So I finally get my act together and get a task done. Maybe it’s something I’ve put off or struggled with.

But then someone else’s error gets in the way, and I find the task still isn’t complete. Or, maybe worse, my own error gets in the way.

Sometimes this kind of situation triggers me into frustration and tears. Sometimes I get overwhelmed and stuck. My strong reactions over the years have surprised me, especially my harsh judgment about people who’ve made mistakes at their jobs.

Examples: Since a young guy at Target doesn’t know he can look up a purchase I’ve made, I have to make a second trip to return an item. My daughter’s medical bills are going to my ex instead of to me, and I have to go in and change the paperwork in person. We’re trying to redo a mortgage, and the company keeps adding hoops to jump through when we’ve already done everything they’ve asked for.

I’ve realized that my strong reactions are at least partly ADD related. It’s so hard to get certain jobs done—paperwork or exchanging an item at a store or getting some computer thing set up. I’m elated when I actually take care of a job like that. When something gets in the way—yikes!

So, I posted to my blog day before yesterday, after about a month of silence. But then the videos I put up didn’t work. First I chose an incorrect setting, and then a YouTube glitch turned up in one of them.

It helped to know my pattern when I figured this all out last night. I could take a step back and observe. I could tell myself, This is where I sometimes fall apart, but I don’t have to.

So no meltdown—at least this time! Here’s the repaired post.