Brainspanx

TL;DR

Problem:

Grocery shopping takes 3-4 hours, you are overwhelmed with choices and making decisions on the fly in the supermarket, and you always end up blowing your budget because you can’t stick to the list (which, incidentally, you probably left on the counter at home, anyway…).

Solution:

Sign up for Grocery Pick up OR Delivery IMMEDIATELY.  Seriously. Do it now. I’ll wait…

Full story:

I didn’t realize how horrible grocery shopping is for an adhd person until I took it off my plate.  There are so many pitfalls for us.  First of all, It’s a stimulation nightmare. Sights, sounds, smells, many many people, too many decisions to count.  I THOUGHT I enjoyed shopping. I THOUGHT I enjoyed “finding the best deal.”  I really believed I needed to look at each piece of produce to determine the perfect one.  And to calculate the price per ounce of this brand versus that.  Or, look at all the ingredients to make sure I wasn’t getting dosed with sugar.  What’s worse: I thought this was a good use of my time.

I was wrong.

In the last two semesters of finishing my degree this spring, I started to fully understand the concept of opportunity cost when it comes to time.  I’ll need to go into more detail about this later, perhaps, but the basic concept is (and thank you to Algorithms to Live By for really getting this point to hit home for me), if I decide to spend my time doing X, I am thereby giving up all the other options.  For a long time I truly believed that if I chose to do X, I could still do ALL the other things, I just would have to do them quicker.  I erroneously thought I’d somehow be able to read or write faster than all historical proof otherwise.  Or vacuum. Or whatever.  Once I finally got that piece of the puzzle (that I was unrealistic!), and I really came to understand that by CHOOSING to do X, I’m GIVING UP everything else…I started to DEFEND my time much more militantly.  Actually, what happened was, I started to get very very angry at everyone.  When I was asked to drive someone 40 minutes out of my way on their whim, I’d quickly calculate all the butterfly effect impacts elsewhere in my life.  I’d start to get very angry.  “You want me to fail my class?!?!?” Would race through my mind.  Here’s how that played out:  

If I take you where you are requesting, that’s 40 mins down, 40 mins back.  I won’t get home until 8pm, and I still have to make and eat dinner.  By the time I do that and clean up, it’ll be 9pm, and then I have to start winding down for bed by 10pm.  Or I could stay up late doing homework.  But that would mean I oversleep the next morning.  Then I’d start the day behind, which really impacts the whole rest of my day, setting me up for failure tomorrow.  The paper is due tomorrow, so if I don’t get some work today, then I won’t get it finished and submitted tomorrow, but also, I have these six other things tomorrow, so I won’t be able to do much work tomorrow.  I have to work on this tonight or otherwise I’ll not get the assignment in at all, and then I’ll fail the class since this is like 40% of the grade. Clearly this person wants me to fail to ask me to do this thing! Why do they hate me???

So, yeah.  The better I got at “enforcing my boundaries” the less I ventured into “Why do they hate me???” Territory.  I still struggle with saying no to other people, but also, to myself.  Grocery shopping is one of those things.

I had seen the ads for grocery delivery services like Shipt or Instacart.  My parents used Harris Teeters Express Lane for over year.  I still refused to get on the train.  For some reason I believed going up and down every aisle, carefully considering every purchase was necessary.  I reasoned I would waste money if I couldn’t carefully consider all the alternatives of price and weight.

Then the reality of opportunity cost started to click.  And I started observing.  I’d spend 3-4 hours every Saturday on grocery shopping.  I’d arrive at the store with my Iphone and my shopping list in the Paprika app.  I’d go through every aisle, carefully considering all the alternatives, making the cheapest decision, unless it was a brand or style my picky son demanded.  I’d end up realizing I “probably” was out of this or that, and oh! This or that looked good/interesting/is on sale.

I never came in under budget.  And, I never had 3-4 hours to spare.  With juggling 3 classes each of the last two semesters, plus full-time employment, constantly being on-call, international travel, and raising a teen-ager…3-4 hours of weekend time is freaking gold.  I was squandering it…AND my money.

I looked at Shipt and Instacart, but was very annoyed with the fact that this products aren’t everything availabe in the store.  Also, that the prices differ from what is in the store.  I also found the pricing model annoying/confusing, and the reviews were sketchy.  Finally, the feedback from the professional shoppers who have worked there was not admirable.  I decided, ultimately, on Walmart Grocery Pickup.  I have a lot of issues with Walmart as a company, but I decided to bite the bullet and put my politics aside in favor of getting through the semester with some sanity.  Here’s how that played out:

Friday night, with my Paprika app open, and the walmart grocery website up, I built my cart (and added most things to my favorites). I checked out and selected pick up for Saturday at  3pm. Total time: 17 minutes.

Saturday: 

Left house at 3pm

Arrived 3:07 pm

Car packed and on my way at 3:13pm

Home by 3:20pm. Car unloaded and groceries away by 3:35pm

Back to working on Homework at 3:40pm

I was STUNNED.

I just got back (most of the time) nearly 3 hours of golden productive time.  No extra fees, and they don’t let you tip the associates that load your car.  Plus, it’s the same price in the store or online.  

Then…it got better.  Walmart started offering DELIVERY at my local Walmart.  This was, unfortunately, after my classes were over, but I’m still using it.  It’s a 7.95 delivery fee, and you tip the delivery person, but I’m extremely ok with this.  

The concept of opportunity cost is really coming up everywhere in my life these days, and I hope to write more about it in the future.  I think there are many more ways I should be applying it, honestly.  

TL;DR

Problem:

You are afraid to start anything because you don’t want to try unless you get it perfect. This leads to massive procrastination on many fronts of your life.

Solution:

Embrace a philosophy of Try-Observe-Tweak.

Full story:

This is a great philosophy, and of course one I can’t claim credit for.  Unfortunately I’ve heard it from so many places, I can’t tell you all of the sources, nor who is the original to give credit to.  And there are lots of different variations, acronyms, etc.  Pick one you like and go with it. If you think you deserve citation, you are probably right…email me, and I’ll fix it.

Before I embraced this philosophy, I was constantly “stuck.”  I was completely frozen with “not knowing” the full process I’d need to take or how to do anything the most efficiently.  As I’ve previously said elsewhere, I had a bizarre disdain for “backtracking” anywhere in my life.  This could manifest in running Saturday errands.  I’d need to plan out my trip perfectly to minimize the time and distance driving.  However, I’d spend so much time thinking about all the variations and alternatives, I’d actually not get out of the driveway.  Then once on the road, in my distraction, I’d miss the turn I needed, and my perfect plan was out the window anyway.  I’d get very, very angry at myself.

At work this looked like any task becoming a ‘big amorphous blog,’ and my not being able to find the starting point.  I’ve talked about this before, too, as well as other things that helped me out of that rut. 

Being stuck, or frozen, like this is perfectionism, plain and simple.  I rejected this label for a LONG time.  “How can I be a perfectionist when I do everything half-assed???” File that under “Things a perfectionist would say.”

One way out of perfectionism is to view everything in terms of data gathering.  Your first attempt, pass, etc., is just to get info.  First time taking that SAT? It’s to find out where you need to focus your study time (your weak areas).  First time interviewing? It’s not to get the job (if you do, though, awesome!), but to practice interviewing.  This is the try portion of the Try-Observe-Tweak Cycle.

After you try, you analyze the data you get.  What worked well? What didn’t.  What could have gone better? What don’t you know now that will help you in the future?  This is the observe phase.

Then, you tweak your approach with your knowledge gained, and you start the cycle over. You try again.  And observe again. And tweak again.  Rinse and repeat as needed.

Having the little Try-Observe-Tweak idea has been enormously helpful to me.  When I hear my perfectionism creeping into my thoughts, I remind myself I’m in a try phase.  I’m just data gathering, and I’ll get this eventually.  This is how my routines came about…slowly, over months.  I finally came to realize my routines and checklists are always changing, and being rigid about them is useless.  It seems contradictory, but it actually makes sense.  Everything is adapting and changing as we go.  Perfectionism is just a form of rigidity in an every-changing world.  

That said, I think that “quality work” is not the same as perfectionism, and I’m not excusing you to do a poor job on things or “phone it in.”  In that case, realize you might need two or three attempts to get the quality where you want it, but perfection will always be impossible.

TL;DR

Problem:

You are continually choosing to do the easy thing instead of what you should be doing.

For example: You keep bingeing Netflix instead of doing the dishes, eating the doughnut instead of the veggie sticks untouched in the fridge, or participating in office gossip with the coworker instead of working on your report dur in 15 minutes.

Solution:

Think about yourself in the future, having to clean up the mess you are currently making.  For me, I call this “Being kind to future Donna.” 

Imagine your future self having to deal with two (or ten) days of dishes instead of the current pile. Imagine future you in the heart ICU wishing you had chosen carrot sticks for 40 years instead of doughnuts.  Imagine yourself 15 mins from now wishing you had 15 more minutes to finish the report. 

Full story:

Before this idea came to me, I struggled A LOT with how to “push myself” to do the thing I knew I should be doing, but I never could get past the “I don’t feel like it” excuse.  The consequence of doing the thing were always clear to me, but “I’ll feel like it later” was a quick justification for not doing it RIGHT THEN.  (Spoiler: You don’t feel like it later, either.)

One day I felt very upset at my past self for not making life easier on my current self, and I wished I could go back in time and tell that version of me to be kind to future Donna.  I have weird conversations like this with myself all the time. Yes, I probably should see someone about that.  The next time I was about to make a bad micro-choice, I stopped and thought, I need to do this to be kind to future Donna.  I vividly imagined my future self having to deal with the mess I created/left for myself to deal with later (in this case it was a literal mess, shredded paper towels all over the living room courtesy of the dogs).

That was really motivating for me.  Suddenly I started realizing all the things in my daily life are actually tasks to improve the life of Future Donna.  At night I prep the coffee maker so in the morning Future Donna can just hit one button in her sleepy stupor.  I brush my teeth and floss so Future Donna doesn’t need dentures.  I meal prep on Sundays so Future Donna doesn’t make bad food choices during the week.

I’ll be honest, it doesn’t always work.  But, coupled with the Five Second Rule by Mel Robbins, it is pretty freaking effective.

Come to find out, this is a known intervention.  In several of the books I read last year, including this one on willpower and this one on procrastination, if we can imagine our future selves vividly, and identify with that version of us more, we will make better choices consistent with our long term goals. Studies on retirement savings, for example, showed that if we imagine our future selves vividly, we make better savings decisions now.

So, I didn’t come up with anything new or earth-shattering…but merely stumbled on something researchers already knew!  Once I realized that, I made sure to employ this strategy ALL the time!

TL;DR

Problem:

Nothing ever gets done.  It’s not so much that you procrastinate (though you do do that), but that when you are able (and motivated!) to do something, the tools you need are in a different room (or that person is unavailable, or something else which is a road-block to doing the thing).

Solution:

Break the task down into the smallest possible steps and stage the task progressively over time.

*Thanks to my work/quilting friend, Jessie, for this tip!

Full story:

This was a major contributor to my inability to get things done.  And I feel like it’s best illustrated by a story:

The backdoor doorknob was loose on my house. This was the outside door, so it dawned on me that  rain would seep in, and I would eventually have to replace the entire now-rain-damaged knob.  In the past this would have gone like this:

Day 1: *notices loose doorknob. “Oh! I need to fix this. Probably just needs a screw tightened.”

Day 2 – 486: exactly the same as above.

Day 487: *doorknob falls apart in my hand. “Oh, crap. I need to move now.”

Here’s the problem, in my head the conversation went…”Where’s the screw driver set? Hmm…garage? Kitchen junk drawer?  I’ll have to find that. But I need to leave for work in 5 mins, I’ll do it tonight.”  Later: “Oh I’m out here in the garage, and I see the screw driver set, but I’m heading into the car to go to dinner and don’t have time to go fix the doorknob, I’ll grab that when I come back…” Which, of course, never happens.

Ok, so here’s the solution: Fixing the doorknob isn’t a task; it’s a project.  You need to really,  really understand and accept that.  Maybe for non-ADHD people it’s just a task. But for you and me (ok, maybe just me), it’s a project.  There are many, many steps and potential hurdles which can derail me (or you). 

In B24, a task can have checklists, which is a major reason I have embraced this tool for all my life management (blog post coming, someday).  However, in OneNote (or everNote, etc), you can simply create a hierarchy by hitting return and indenting. Boom, subtask list.

Now, here’s how I got the doorknob fixed within a couple of days of discovering it loose (instead of a year and a half later):

1. When I notice doorknob is loose, I create B24 task with checklist of all teeny, tiny, infinitesimal steps.
2. When I find the screwdriver (usually because I see it while doing something else), put the screwdriver in a place where I will move it progressively closer to the back door the next time I pass it.  In my example, when I was getting into the car, I passed the screwdriver set.  I stopped and put it at the threshold of the garage door (the one that goes into the house). I literally have to pick it up when walking into the house (once home again), or trip over it. Either way, I’ll remember it. (Side note, if you have many little people, this might not work for you…I don’t, so it works for me.)
3. Because when I walk in the door, the first thing I do is take the dogs potty, I immediately walk with the screwdriver set to the backdoor. I put the screwdriver set down on the chair by the door. I take the dogs potty (not fair to make them hold it longer while I figure this out).
4. When I come back in, I’ve forgotten to fix the door entirely, and rush to do something else. However, the next time I let the dogs potty (like 2 hours later), I see the screwdriver set, pick it up, and take it outside while I take the dogs potty.  I choose the correct screwdriver tip and put it in the screwdriver base while the dogs sniff around for an excruciatingly long time.
5. After the dogs are finished and I’ve bagged the results, I open the door and immediately start fixing the knob as the dogs are walking in. Once it’s fixed (in seconds), I put the screwdriver tip and base back in the container, walk to the garage door, drop off the poop bags in the trash on the way, and put the screwdriver set on the threshold of the garage door. Then, of course, I wash my hands.
6. When I head to bed that night, I open the garage door to turn on the exterior driveway lights. I notice the screwdriver set.  I pick it up, turn on the driveway exterior lights, and place the screwdriver set back on the garage shelf where it belongs.

Would this have taken a whole day for a normal person to finish? I don’t know. Maybe.  Is this better than the alternative FOR ME? Absolutely.

Fixing the doorknob got done. The doorknob didn’t get ruined (or the door, for that matter) by my extreme lack of action.

The fundamental aspect of this story which I wish for you to take away is that if you are resisting doing anything, or if you are unable to complete anything, you might want to ask yourself, “What is the teeny, tiny, infinitesimally small step that is next required to do this?”  You don’t need to have the whole thing mapped out. Just literally the next step.  And if you are always saying “I don’t have time to do the whole thing right now,” that’s a great potential candidate for applying this intervention. 

It’s pretty simple: What are the tiny steps that make up that task, and how can you do them progressively over time so that it gets done?

TL;DR:

Problem: You are constantly late for everything.

Solution: Include a time buffer in everything, which I call “The Explosive Diarrhea Buffer.”

Full Story:

Let’s say you have to drive from Charlotte, NC to Raleigh, NC.  You are due to where ever you are going at 6pm.  You know that it takes about 3.5 – 4 hours to make the drive, assuming you don’t speed  and construction is minimal. What time should you leave?  Would 2pm sound like a reasonable answer given all the info?  It’s probably a safe bet for an ADHD person to answer around 2pm.

Now…let’s say all the other information is the same, however, you woke up with crippling, explosive diarrhea.  You must find a bathroom every 15 minutes, and you start to wonder how many stops this road trip will now require.  If you have to find a rest stop every 15 minutes, now how long will that drive take? Now what time would you leave?  12pm?  11am?  Either of those should give you plenty of pit-stop time, depending on the severity of your stomach distress and bathroom spacing along your route.  For extra credit, imagine instead you are traveling with your recently toilet-trained 3 year old nephew.  How many pit-stops do you need now?

Consider it “Time Insurance.”  You have car insurance (assuming you own a car). You probably have health insurance of some sort.  You might even (and should, if you don’t) have life insurance.  Yet those are all to cover hopefully rare events.  While crippling, explosive diarrhea is (also hopefully) a rare event, it’s actually way  more probable than dying outright or getting in a car wreck.  Not purchasing Time Insurance for something more probable than death seems silly.

“But that’s a waste of time,” you might respond.  “I’ll not have to stop 18 times, and I’ll end up in Raleigh 2 hours earlier than necessary.”  That’s OK. Raleigh isn’t closed.  You can find a Starbucks, or even a parking lot somewhere to plant yourself with your smart phone, the Kindle App, or Audible, or bring a real book, Duolingo, Sudoku, puzzles, whatever.   That’s not wasted time if you always keep book or some other opportunity for learning with you. Or God-Forbid, talk to your friends or family that came along with you. Building relationships isn’t wasted time, either.  Further, you don’t consider the car insurance premiums you pay out all year long to be wasted, yet you haven’t gotten into a wreck in 20 years.  Time and money are both resources.  You can’t eagerly exchange money for protection, but not be willing to see the value of exchanging time for protection.

So, apply this to anything that is time bound.  Essay due in three weeks?  What if you get the stomach flu at the beginning of the third week?  Plan accordingly and put a buffer in your schedule, starting now.  When you are scheduled to study, and you think, “Man, I don’t feel like studying. This paper isn’t due for another three weeks, anyway! Netflix sounds really good right now…” Recognize you are in the midst of a micro-choice.  At that VERY moment, picture a week of explosive diarrhea keeping you away from the keyboard (cause please don’t be the guy that brings his laptop into the bathroom…).  Picture having to tell the professor, “I had a week of explosive diarrhea, can I have an extension?”  Then do the hard thing, not the easy thing. Work on the paper.

Now, could I have substituted “Flat tire” for explosive diarrhea as an example of an unexpected disaster setting you back on your schedule? Sure.  There are two reasons I didn’t.  The first is that a flat time is a big, single-time setback.  It might delay your road trip 2 hours, but it’s all at once.  It doesn’t progressively eat away at your schedule like a thousand potty breaks.  That’s real life. Real life eats away at your goals in tiny little increments.  Second, explosive diarrhea is memorable.  It is vivid, both hilarious and cringe-worthy, and it affects everything from driving, to essays, to cleaning the garage, to you-name-it.  A flat tire interferes only with anything relating to driving.  It sticks out in your memory, it’s relatable, and it applies to many more real-life scenarios.  Now that explosive diarrhea is seared into your memory, you will allocated time insurance for all your tasks, and when facing the micro-choice to do or not do the task, you will be able to easily recall this to motivate you to do the thing you are avoiding.  You’re welcome, AND I’m sorry.

TL;DR:

Problem:

Driving, I’d have ideas and then forget them by the time I got home. I don’t want to pick up my phone to put stuff in the notes app, and I refuse to enable Alexa or Siri.  

(Also: I’d forget where I was going on my errand routes.  I’d miss turns, or completely forget to go to stores or people’s houses.)

Solution: 

Install a small dry-erase board in your car, and keep dry erase pens with eraser caps attached to it.

Full story:

A major ADHD source of problems for me was any time I was in the car.  This manifested itself in a couple of ways.

• I would forget the destination, or destinations, I intended for the trip. I spent a lot of time “backtracking” because I forgot to stop here or there for this or that errand.  For some reason, backtracking is a major issue for me. I despise it to a really unhealthy level.  The scorn I’d heap on myself for being inefficient was breathtakingly harsh (I’d never say such things to another human being).  It makes sense in the context of time being so valuable, I guess. Still uncalled for. Of course there were many times I completely forgot where I was going and would have to pull over until I remembered.
• I’d see something that triggered a “Oh I need to remember to…” thought, which would quickly leave and be forgotten until the next time I drove past whatever it was that reminded me in the first place.  I’d once again think “Oh I REALLY need to remember to…” Then, of course, promptly forget again until the next time I drove by.  It was a vicious cycle.

Once I was aware of this pattern, I was able to try to work around it.  But the first solution I tried was horrible. I’d repeat things over and over until I got home, or park, and then would type furiously into my phone. I’d repeat the next location over and over until I reached that location, then I’d start repeating the next location until I got there. This worked poorly if another idea came up that I needed to remember or if other people were in the car with me and dared to try to talk to me. If I was repeating my next stop over and over, and I passed something that reminded me of something I needed to add to my to-do list, I was totally screwed.  Should I repeat the next destination? Or the reminder?  What was I doing? Where am I going?  Shit. I just missed my exit.

I also tried taking notes on my phone, but dangerous…so that didn’t last long. I tried voice memos on my phone, but since I have Siri disabled, as well as most things that would use the microphone (security concerns), I had to log into my phone (I don’t use the finger print scan), open the voice memo app, then start recording.  I might as well down some tequila before getting into the car if I’m going to do all that.

Then I tried writing down everything in notepad.  Several problems arose with this.  First, it would get pushed to the back seat when my son rode shotgun.  Second, it would end up on the floor, then I’d have a thought I wanted to capture, and I’m suddenly stretching trying to reach the backseat floor…and drive.  Tequila, anyone?  Third, I was going through a lot of paper, and constantly buying new pads.  I’d take the notepad into my office or house, then forget to return it to the car.

What I need, I thought…is a dry erase board for the car.  As I mulled this over, I really felt like it needed to be very visible. Dash-mounted would be great.  But not huge…I’ll need to see out the windshield.  But how to attach it?  

Through a series of amazing coincidents, I actually ran into two people who gave me the answer.  The first had a magnetic phone mount that attached to their car air vents.  The other was buying a locker sized magnetic dry erase board for their high-schooler.

And this solution was born:

There are two magnetic air vent phone mounts, and the magnetic locker-sized dry erase board sits right on top.  It’s removable, obviously.  Half the board lists my “Trip Plan” the other “Notes.”  When I get in the car, still in my driveway, I write down all the locations I need to drive to, in the correct order.  When I leave each location, I cross them off my list, so I know where I am to go next.  If thoughts come up during the drive, I repeat them to myself until the next stop light, and jot them down (or have a passenger in the car write down what I need captured).

Later, I came to learn that the previous attempts to solve this issue (repeating things over and over) was actually incredibly harmful.  When I write the post on reducing decisions, it’ll all become clear.  Stay tuned!

TL;DR:

Problem: You are a free spirit, and the thought of routines gives you hives; but you are simultaneously a disaster in most areas of your life, and chaos is your middle name.

Solution: Suck it up and REALLY REALLY REALLY TRY routines (with checklists!)!!!

Full Story:

I constantly mocked an old boyfriend who was so rigid in his routines that he refused to bend them even slightly.  My husband actually is a pretty big creature of habit, as well.  I have to say, I spent many a day frustrated because he had to do something, and we couldn’t leave until it was done.

For my entire life, no two days were the same.  I couldn’t ever be on the birth control pill because I could barely remember to brush my teeth consistently, let alone remember something so important.  So, of course, the first 44 years of my life were chaotic.  Actually, chaotic is probably an understatement.  I thought it was because I was a “free spirit” and I needed less structure because “that’s just how I work best.”  The truth is probably closer to: “I thought people who stuck to routines were rigid and boring.”  

My husband probably has helped me see the benefit of doing the same general routine consistently as a good thing.  Over the years I’ve read many (MANY) books and articles on organization, taming clutter, getting your shit together, or whatever you want to call it.  I will (at some point) review some of those books here, as several address ADHD specifically.  

So what finally clicked?  Nothing.  There wasn’t one thing.  It was like a slow boil, coming to the realization that I actually NEED structure to even come close to my potential.   I had to-do lists (oh BOY did I have to-do lists!!!) for many many years.  I tried Franklin-Covey Planners, FLYLady binders, several to-do apps for Iphone and Ipad…nothing really stuck.  I read lots of books, especially in the last year or two, on habit stacking, systems, compound effect, checklists, etc.  It was more the combination of picking various things from this or that book, this or that webinar, this or that blog article…that I started to build 9and come to understand/love) routines.  At no point did I say, “Today I’m going to build and work my routine,” or “You know, this is the day I might implement one of those systems things!”  It just progressed organically over several months of observing, trying, and tweaking.   And as it did, the love grew.

That’s not to say some sources of information weren’t more helpful than others.  Early on, one of my colleagues in France took an entire hour to show me how he uses Microsoft OneNote to track everything from to-do lists, to meetings, to communication, to project details (which I still rely on a great deal).  There was a PluralSight course that was incredibly helpful in the beginning (Time Management for Technical Professionals by Doru Catana).  An article (long since lost) specifically on checklists was incredibly enlightening.

Many times I didn’t believe any of those interventions would work (this is a common theme in my life, btw).  Instead I would approach it as “Let’s see what happens.”  It was all a grand experiment!  I certainly  couldn’t do any worse than I currently was in failing to reach my potential!  Some ideas I actively resisted, including routines.  This was something I didn’t want to actually work.  But, unfortunately routines really do work.  

For me, forgetting to do minuscule things triggered incredible feelings of shame.  This is hard to write, but I’ve learned since that this is common for ADHD people.  A good example is if I got to the car and realized I had left the driveway lights on, I’d instantly slide into a place of shame.  “I’m so fucking stupid I can’t even manage to remember to turn off the driveway lights! How freakin’ hard is it to remember? Every other person on this street can manage to remember, except me.  What the hell is wrong with me?”  All of that would race through my mind in the split second when I registered that the driveway lights were on, and debated going back into the house to turn them off or let them burn all day while I would be at work.  What routines have given me is really what they have taken away: a lot of self-abuse.  Now, I leave the house every morning and the driveway lights are off, because they are a checklist item on my morning routine.  I don’t get out of the shower without washing my hair anymore because it’s a checklist item on my glass shower wall (in dry erase marker).  Where I had to bring deodorant, toothpaste, and a toothbrush to work because I’d get to work only to realize I’d skipped any or all of those while getting ready in the morning, I’ve not had to use any of them now that I have routines.

Another thing to note is that my routines evolve and change all the time.  I usually give myself a week or two trying a specific routine version before tweaking it.  Also, accepting that sometimes the answer is that you just need to allocate more time for something is incredibly important.  For almost 8 months, I left the house every morning frazzled, beating myself up, and having to skip major parts of my morning routine.  “Why can’t I get this all done in 1 hour!?!?!?” I would wail as I peeled out of the driveway, late again.  One day it finally dawned on me: “Maybe I just need more time?”  Obvious, of course, but the obvious answer isn’t always accessible to the ADHD brain.  Instead of thinking of myself as “WRONG” or “BAD” because I couldn’t make everything I needed to do fit into an arbitrary time range…I decided to accept that my “process” required two full hours.  This was a lightbulb moment for me.  Accepting that this is who I am right now in my life, and maybe it’ll change at some point, maybe it won’t, was HUGE.