Ann Ferro: Debating diagnosis

There’s a lot of recent discussion about adult ADHD. Attention-Deficit/Hyperactivity Disorder – you know, that syndrome that is defined by inability to stay focused, with spurts of intense activity and out-of-context impulsive thoughts and or behavior.

Do I have this malady?  After all, I am one of those people who find the world infinitely interesting.  There is always something new to experience and learn … the next shiny thing can pull me away from the last shiny thing.  Thus my need to make lists and follow them.

So, this morning, I reviewed the lists that I had made for myself for the last five days and, voila … I only accomplished seven out of 25 objectives as outlined in my journal.  What an abject failure!

I have been able, over the years, to find subjects, problems, etc. that can hold my interest for extended periods of time.  For example, I have had a garden where all of the plants, at least most of them, remained alive for a whole season.  I did make a lot of my children’s clothing when they were little.  I even make my daughter’s senior prom dress. It took me three months, but I did it.  I’ve been able to raise a lot of money for not-for-profits and resettle hundreds of refugees successfully.  But I have closets and drawers of unfinished projects to highlight my flash-in-the-pan interests.  Anyone interested in three acrylic paintings?  What about a collection of bears, tiny pitchers, boxes of yarn or yards of fabric?  I am wondering about those books that I started for which I quickly lost interest.

However, the second part of the ADHD quad would indicate that I have a lot of energy. Once upon a time that would be the case, but that energy dissipated long ago.  I can maybe marshal a half hour now, sometimes a whole hour if I’ve had a nap.  And impulsivity?  Does changing the TV channel several times an hour fall into that category? Or dashing off to the store to buy something that I just feel a need for at the moment?  The latter used to be possible when we had a functioning grocery store in the village, but now that would mean driving over snow and sometimes ice-covered roads to either Skaneateles or Camillus…something I find off-putting when it means that I have to put on boots and clean the snow off the car and scrape the car window free from ice.   Sounds more like sloth than impulsivity.

There is the mind wandering thing though.  For instance, yesterday I began to think about a course that I took as a senior in college.  My advisor Don Hart urged me to take folklore and mythology as part of my anthropology curriculum.  It turned out to be an interesting, even fun course.  Folklore refers to the oral traditions of a culture that include that culture’s myths, legends, songs, stories, etc. The anthropologist becomes a detective , using knowledge about language, language changes, culture change, etc. to ferret out the basic meanings of the oral traditions.

A classic example is the children’s rhyme, “Ring around a Rosie,” which is found as a part of all European cultures.  There is a heated debate about whether this is an example of how an adult problem is mutated into a children’s jingle.  In our text at the time, it was said to be derived from the experience of the 17th century London plague.  Today, others say that it is more pedestrian, attributable in other versions to romantic endeavors or just a jingle for children.

Another example, far more universal, can be found in the folklore in the highlands of New Guinea as well as in Siberia, Europe and America … the story of Cinderella.  The basic idea of a single female, forces of evil that surround her, her ability to overcome and the limitations of her powers are almost universal.

So, pondering this intrusion into my attempt to stay focused I found another shiny thing to grab my attention.  I wondered if there weren’t a modern version of this.  My television offered the answer. I watched a commercial for a product that was guaranteed to rid your face of wrinkles with only tiny application of a special cream.  The women, beset by the evils of aging, spoke about their experiences, indicating that they were transformed, that life was better because of the magic like potion, adding with the warning that, like Cinderella, that the transformation was only temporary.  In Disney’s version of Cinderella, when the clock struck 12, all Cinderella’s trappings that were changed reverted to their former status.

One wonders when the magic of this wrinkle cream fades?  On a date?  At the grocery check out line?  At a job interview?  The response of surroundings is up for grabs.

Cinderella leaves a glass slipper that leads her true love to find her.  What does our gal leave?  I guess it depends on where and when the wrinkle cream’s magic ends.

Why would I spend precious time thinking about such stuff?  It’s probably better than pondering what is happening to politics and the price of eggs.  Am I one who is defined by ADHD or is it just my hard-won combination of traits that equal who I am, my unique personality which leads me to think that I should probably look into that wrinkle cream?

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