Archive for the ‘expectations’ Tag

How to talk to (or about) people   Leave a comment

I’m reading a very goo book right now about respectful parenting.

However.

There’s always a “however,” isn’t there?

Even people who are wonderfully respectful of children make mistakes. I haven’t talked to the book’s author about the problem and I’m not telling you who it is because I don’t want people piling on this author.

The problem is in a passage about how we should speak normally to children. The author is making a great point — that we don’t need to oversimplify and should presume competence when we’re talking to children — but then hurts the overall point by saying that we should not talk down to toddlers as if they are “mentally deficient.”

Here’s why that’s a problem.

We say we shouldn’t talk to children like they’re intellectually disabled (ID). People with ID say that we shouldn’t talk to them like they’re children. (Actually, being talked down to is a problem for most disabilities, but the passage I’m talking about specifies ID with the phrase “mentally deficient” so that’s what I’m going to speak to here.)

Presuming competence is important no matter the person. Someone who has an ID should be spoken to with respect for who they are as a person, what they know (and what they might know), keeping in mind their actual age. Don’t talk to an adult as though they are a child; even if you end up having to simplify your language a little bit, you shouldn’t do that thing people do when they talk to small children or to adults with ID, where the voice gets higher and the words get shorter and the conversation gets stilted.

By the same token, a child should be spoken to with respect for who they are as a person, what they know (and what they might know), keeping in mind their actual age. Don’t talk to a child as though they are an adult; make sure you simplify your language based on their ability to understand you. And don’t talk to children in that high-pitched, unnatural cadence, either. They’re people, and they understand more than you think they do.

My son is 22 months old, and he is gaining language by leaps and bounds right now. It’s astonishing to me, the number of words he has gained expressively over the last few weeks. He mostly communicates one word at a time, but we can still have whole conversations. I just have to pay attention to context and ask questions.

For example, a common exchange after we saw Santa for photos before Christmas:

R: Shashi. (Santa)
Me: Yes, you saw Santa.
R: Up! Up!
Me: He picked you up.
R: Taw.
Me: You were so tall!
R: Bin, bin.
Me: Oh, did he give you jelly beans?
R: Yeah. Mmmm!
Me: They were yummy, huh?
R: Yeah! Tee!
Me: Oh yes, there was a tree there, too.
R: Yeah.

See how expressive he is with just one or two words? Most people who have ID can speak in full sentences (regardless of how they speak, whether with voice or AAC). On top of that, receptive language develops much earlier than expressive language, so the odds are pretty good that someone who doesn’t speak as “well” as you do does actually understand everything you say to or about them. I know my son understands most of what we say to him. (He doesn’t get our jokes yet, but that’s okay. We make a lot of puns.)

The author is making a great point with this passage and made a poor choice of words. I hope that it isn’t indicative of an attitude that people with ID should be talked down to (and I don’t think it is, I think it was just a mistake). Instead of including the bit about being “mentally deficient,” the passage could have simply said not to talk down to children and then explained that receptive language develops earlier than expressive language, which means that children understand way more than they can say. No accidental demeaning of people with ID.

This kind of attitude — these kinds of sayings — are ubiquitous in society. Take a moment when you’re writing or talking. Consider whether there’s a more accurate way to say what you want to say: one that won’t damage a group of people.

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Consistent Inconsistency (I)   Leave a comment

I doubt I’ll ever be good at keeping a blog the way people think they should be kept. “One main theme, and post regularly – if not daily, then at least once a week, on a schedule!”

That’s just not how I operate.

I’ve said many times in the past, “the only thing that’s consistent about my ADHD is its inconsistency.” And I think it’s important to recognize that, to embrace it sometimes, to work with it, and to enjoy it as much as possible.

I mean, inconsistency can be exciting. You never know when you’re going to forget a meal in the oven and have to scrounge for dinner. You never know when you’re going to get lost and learn a whole new part of the city. You never know when you’re going to fail to do the laundry for three weeks and end up wearing that weird dress someone gave you ten years ago that you’re shocked even fits you.

Did I say exciting?

Okay, I meant stressful.

Being inconsistent may be a consistent thing, but what doesn’t work one moment often works the next, so there’s no knowing from one second to the next what I’m going to be able to accomplish. This means that I will do all the right things, make my plan and have an idea of how my day is going to go, only to have everything fall apart and leave me standing in the middle of a pile of unfinished projects with a list of uncompleted (unattempted) tasks the length of my arm, and my primary achievement at that point is that at least I managed to feed everyone enough (including the animals).

This is stressful, as I’m sure you can imagine. It’s the unpredictability that drains me, far more than the actual lack of achievement. I’ve been an underachiever all my life, after all – hard not to be, with a brain that works this way.

But I want to do better. I want to do the things I plan to do. I want to achieve what I intend to achieve.

The fact that I cannot do this consistently (or, often, at all) is what makes my ADHD a disability.

Posted September 11, 2015 by karalianne in General Disability Discussion

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Acceptance III   Leave a comment

As promised, I’m going to talk about the treatability of ADHD.

Russell Barkley says that ADHD is the most treatable mental disorder. He’s sort of right, but there are problems with that statement. There are actually problems with the concept of treatment as it currently stands.

So let’s look at the concept of treatment and then we can talk about whether or not ADHD is actually treatable.

Society has taught us that it is best to be neurotypical. We should be neurotypical, we should live our lives as though we are neurotypical, and any difficulty we have achieving that goal is a failure. Treatment is meant to bring us “back to normal” – that is, it’s supposed to make us more neurotypical, so that we can live like neurotypicals and have a better quality of life and be happy. Because the assumption is that you can only be happy if you are neurotypical, and your quality of life must be horrible if you aren’t living the same way as neurotypical people do.

There are so many things wrong with this that I don’t really know where to begin.

Let’s start with the assumption that you have to be neurotypical to be happy and to have a good quality of life.

I know lots of people who have mental disorders and developmental disabilities that affect their cognitive functioning, and most of them are happy and have good quality of life. Obviously neurotypicality is not necessary for either happiness or quality of life.

So if that assumption is incorrect, then it must also not be true that we need to live like we’re neurotypical in order to be successful, to be happy, and to have a good quality of life. Which means that treatment in order to be “more normal” is ableist and unnecessary.

Now, that doesn’t mean that treatment itself is unnecessary. If a condition is causing difficulty in an area that really matters to you, and you want help with that area and there is something out there that can help, treatment is a great thing. But the goal of treatment should never be “change my brain and my life so that I am neurotypical,” because not only is that impossible, it’s ableist and an incredibly negative way to approach something that is so pervasive and intrinsic to your life and your identity.

So that’s why the current concept of treatment is a bad one. And I know this is what people think, because I get questions from people all the time asking why they still have trouble with particular things even though they’re taking medication. I get questions asking if medication is going to change their personality. And I get these questions because people are told that medication is the most effective form of treatment for ADHD, and they think that “treatment” means “no more ADHD,” and that’s just plain wrong.

So how treatable is ADHD, really?

Well, in the current concept of treatment (as sort of a cure), it’s not treatable at all. There are no treatments out there that will make a person suddenly have a neurotypical brain. The best medication can do is make it so that our brains function more like they’re neurotypical, so it’s easier to do certain things while it’s in our system, but it doesn’t actually make us neurotypical, and we still have to work at things that neurotypicals find easy.

There are a lot of treatments for ADHD. I’ve listed a lot of them here:

Medication – This is the first-run option. A lot of people never get past this component of a treatment plan, and that’s not great because you need to be prepared if you have to stop taking medication for some reason.

Diet – A good diet that has lots of protein (not like ridiculously high, just higher than average) is important for good brain function. Other important components here include Omega-3 fatty acids (found in eggs and fish, for the most part) and plenty of vegetables, as well as complex carbohydrates (e.g., whole wheat bread and pasta, beans, potatoes).

Exercise – Regular exercise (especially cardio) is amazingly good for your brain! It wakes up your entire body and keeps dopamine in your system, which is great since dopamine is one of the primary neurotransmitters involved in ADHD.

Sleep – When we sleep, our bodies do a bunch of things like healing and rejuvenating. Our brains do that, but they also work through all of the events of the day, committing things to long-term memory and stuff like that. We need to make sure we’re getting at least eight hours of sleep per night to make sure our brains are functioning at their best.

Supplements – Krill oil (or other fish oil), rhodiola, reishi, and other supplements listed here (my father-in-law’s business) can be helpful in promoting optimum functioning. Dr Amen also has some suggestions in his book Healing ADHD.

ADHD Coaching – ADHD coaches help you learn, develop, and implement strategies that work for you, so that you can better manage your ADHD symptoms and be able to do well if you have to stop taking medication.

Talk Therapy – Sometimes you have a lot of stuff you need to work through, so this can be very helpful, whether you see a counselor, psychologist, or psychiatrist.

Cognitive Behavioural Therapy (CBT) – This is a type of behavioural therapy where the practitioner (a psychologist or social worker with training in CBT) helps you think through your behaviours and come up with better ways to react to different situations.

Meditation – If you’re able to meditate, this can be really helpful in getting your mind centred and teaching your brain to actually concentrate or focus on what you want it to.

Mindfulness – This is something I’ve been hearing more about lately, and it seems to be about getting us to focus on the actual now and the immediate future, rather than dwelling on the past or thinking really far into the future. Being truly present in the moment instead of jumping ahead in conversations or tuning out because something else caught our attention.

That’s rather a lot. And not one of these things is going to make you neurotypical.

But I don’t think that’s necessarily a bad thing.

Why should we try to live like we’re neurotypical, when we aren’t? Rather, shouldn’t we be working towards living the best life we can, as people who have ADHD? Yes, some of my symptoms cause me distress and those need to be managed somehow, but other than that does it really matter that my mind makes random connections, that I lose track of time, that I hyperfocus on silly little things?

My life has a number of qualities that are the same as the life of a neurotypical. There are also lots of things about my life that are different and are probably kind of strange. And, of course, there are things about my life and about how my brain works that cause disasters, but there are also things about both of those things that are amazing and wonderful, and I don’t see why the presence of disasters should automatically mean that my life or my brain is wrong, that I shouldn’t be how or who I am.

I am a person. I have ADHD. I am valuable as I am, regardless of how “neurotypical” I make myself seem. And that’s okay. I don’t have to be neurotypical to be worthy of respect, of attention, of achieving success on my own terms.

Society doesn’t determine those things about me. I do.

This is part three of a series. I don’t know how long the series will be or when I’ll post the next installment. I’m not sure what I’ll talk about next. I just don’t think I’m quite finished talking about this yet.

Acceptance II   Leave a comment

My self-esteem has gotten a lot better since I was diagnosed with ADHD. I no longer had to wonder why I was so different from other people, and I finally knew where to look for help with the things that caused me the most trouble in my life. Medication helped manage my symptoms and made it easier for me to learn and implement strategies to help me live my life on my own terms, and those strategies have been amazing for my overall quality of life. But mostly just knowing what the heck was going on was a huge relief.

Labels are not bad. We use them all the time. Every noun is a label, after all. Book, chair, table, car: all labels. Dog, cat, guinea pig, human: labels. John, Sally, Marie, David: again, labels. So this “I don’t believe in labels” that I see from presumably neurotypical people is ridiculous. You do believe in labels, you just don’t like categorizing people by their neurology or perceived brokenness.

Here’s something you maybe haven’t considered: I’m not broken. I have ADHD, and that does not mean that I am worth less than you in any way, shape, or form. I may have difficulties with things that you don’t have difficulty with, but I suspect that I am very good at things that you do have trouble with. Because I am a person, and there are lots of labels that apply to me besides ADHD. For example: I am a woman, I am a wife, I am a writer, I am an editor, I am occasionally an artist, I am a Christian, I am an Anglican, I am a guinea pig mom and a kitty mom, I attempt to be a housewife, I am sometimes a seamstress, I am a cook, and I am an ADHDer. I am also a brunette, I am tall, I am overweight, I am strong, I am enthusiastic, I am silly, I am serious, I am happy, I am a musician, I am good with computers, and I am an adult.

I work very hard every day to do the things that I want to accomplish. It’s not easy because having ADHD means that my executive functioning isn’t very good. But I work at it because it matters to me and because this is something I want to become good at, if possible. I don’t work so hard at this because I want to be neurotypical. I don’t do it so that my life will be more like yours. I don’t even try to do things the way non-ADHDers do them. I’m just living my life, trying to accomplish the things I choose to focus on, in the way that makes sense for me. Sometimes how I do these things is very different from how other people do them. Since it’s the results that matter, not the method, I don’t worry about that… and you shouldn’t worry about it either. As long as the dishes are clean, does it really matter that I wash them in the morning instead of after dinner every evening? Probably not. So I do it the way that works for me.

It took time for me to get to this point. I spent the first 28-30 years of my life trying to make my life what I thought everyone else’s lives were like. You know what you get when you do that? Depression. Anxiety. It’s not a satisfying existence. You’re forever struggling to achieve something that not only isn’t really something anyone does, it’s something that you in particular cannot accomplish due to your neurology. When I was diagnosed with ADHD at 28, I started to figure this out. And it’s only in the last few years that I really began to embrace it.

I have expectations of myself, but they are far more realistic and they take into account the things I struggle with when it comes to getting stuff done. I try not to beat myself up over things I don’t achieve in a given day, because there’s always tomorrow and I can try again and maybe do better then. Things are no longer life or death for me. I have deadlines for work, but it’s a lot easier to meet those deadlines when I’m not also stressing over how many other things I need to accomplish because if I don’t my life is going to fall apart (even though it won’t).

When I tell you that I have ADHD and you respond with “I don’t believe in labels,” you are telling me that you don’t actually care about the challenges I face. You are telling me that you will not be understanding when things get buggered up because ADHD is unpredictable. You are telling me that you are not a safe person for me to be around, because you do not understand the importance of this label to me and my life.

Because ADHD is important. It’s not separable from my identity, because it’s been present since I was a very small child (possibly since birth). It has affected (and continues to affect) how I perceive and interact with the world. I can’t pretend it doesn’t exist, and I don’t want to, either. I want the world to stop pretending it doesn’t exist. I want the world to stop acting like labels are bad. I want the world to stop making labels bad by treating us differently if we have one of these “negative” ones. I want the world to stop caring about how we do things and start caring about what things we do.

I think that it is horrible that there are people who have ADHD and autism and other neurological and mental disorders who are made to feel like they are broken or “less than” simply because they are different.

I am not neurotypical. I have ADHD. I am not broken. I am exactly who I am supposed to be, and I think that is amazing.

This is part two of a series. I’m not sure when the third part will be posted. It will probably be about how “treatable” ADHD is, unless something else catches my attention between now and then.

Acceptance I   Leave a comment

I’m tired.

I’m tired of being told to think of my ADHD as a gift instead of as a disability. I’m tired of having things suggested to me as ways to overcome my ADHD. I’m tired of being encouraged – expected, even – to try and force my brain to function like that of a neurotypical human being. And I’m tired of being told, when I express my dislike of these kinds of things, that I am being too negative or something like that, when I’m not.

I see it everywhere I turn. It’s all over the ADHD web sites and you can read all about it in ADHD books of all kinds. And the people saying these things are, just as often as not, ADHDers themselves.

I can be negative, absolutely. And in my youth I was angsty as heck. I’ve even been clinically depressed (more than once, though I was only diagnosed and treated once). I don’t think that my objection to the above is negative. It’s realistic, and it’s evidence that I don’t think of ADHD in quite the same way as other people.

Here is how I think of ADHD. You do not have to agree with me. This is what works for me, and it is what I wish I could see more of on the web sites and in the books.

ADHD is not a gift. It is a disability. It is a disorder that causes serious problems, regardless of how many accommodations you have at school or at work, and regardless of how much you twist your life to make it fit the ADHD mold.

ADHD does not need to be “overcome.” I’m not sure what that even means, since at its most basic level ADHD affects how we perceive and interact with the world around us. It’s a pervasive disorder, after all; it affects every single aspect of our lives. I would prefer to work with my ADHD, to find ways to use it to my advantage and ways to convince it to allow me to get stuff done when I really want to do so.

My brain does not need to function the same as a neurotypical brain. It is my brain, and it is an ADHD brain. I think that’s beautiful, even if it is disabling and annoying and frustrating most of the time.

Is this revolutionary? It feels like it must be, because it flies in the face of so much conventional wisdom.

I run the Actually ADHD blog on Tumblr, and I answer a lot of questions every day about what ADHD is, how to deal with ableism, and what kinds of things might help people accomplish things they need/want to achieve. On Tuesdays we have “Terrific Tuesday,” which is a chance for people to send in things they’re proud of having accomplished lately so we can all cheer for them. It doesn’t matter how big or small the things are, we want to hear them all. On Fridays we have “Feel Good Friday,” which is a chance for people to share any positives they have found in their ADHD.

When I’m answering people’s questions, I do research. I look up medications at drugs.com so I can discuss potential side effects. I look on PubMed for studies about things that I don’t know a lot about (sometimes I’m not very successful). When they’re asking how to deal with ableism, I try to use common sense. Same with things like how to study for a test or disclose their diagnosis to a friend.

Throughout all of this, I try to maintain a positive tone. I don’t pretend that ADHD is all sunshine and roses, because it definitely isn’t. But a lot of the time, if someone asks if something is normal, I will tell them that obviously it’s normal for them and as long as it isn’t hurting anyone or disruptive to others, it doesn’t matter if it’s normal for anyone else.

I still recommend those writers and those web sites, even though I disagree with some of their ideas on a very fundamental level, because it’s all we have right now. And I find it so frustrating that the way I think of my ADHD is not something I can find anywhere except on a blog that I run. Sometimes I don’t want to be revolutionary, I just want to be supported the way I support other people. I want to be accepted as an ADHDer, no strings attached. No “as long as you don’t talk about how disabling it is.” No “as long as you work to overcome it.” No “as long as you’re trying to pass as neurotypical.

I shouldn’t have to “pass” to be accepted.

ADHD is part of me. Accept me, accept my ADHD.

I won’t accept anything less.

This is part 1 of a series. I’m not sure how long the series will be or when I will post the next part, I just know I’m not finished with this topic.

Responsibility.   1 comment

Someone made an incredibly ableist, bigoted, horrible comment on a very good post about how ADHD is harder on us than it is on the non-ADHDers in our lives. (I would say fantastic but there is some ableist stuff at the beginning about wheelchair users. Don’t worry, the blogger has been informed and responded really well to the criticism; I think I love her now.) This post is basically a response to that comment, which I will not reproduce here because I would need to ask permission first and I don’t particularly want to be in contact with this person directly. But I am going to try and respond to the comment’s points in the order they were made.

ADHD is a neurological condition (not a chronic illness; I am not “ill”) in which our brains simply do not work the same way as the brains of non-ADHDers. It is not our fault that our brains function differently.

[The comment makes comparisons to alcoholism and depression here and I am very uncomfortable with such comparisons, so I’m not going to do that here.]

It is important that people who have ADHD take responsibility for themselves and their lives. Explore treatment options, learn coping mechanisms, and develop and implement techniques and methods that help us manage our symptoms. When things don’t work, we need to be responsible and make changes and figure out what didn’t work and why, so that we can get things going again. Blaming other people is not a thing we usually do; blaming ourselves, on the other hand… incredibly common.

I have taken medication. I was diagnosed in February 2005 and took Concerta, then Dexedrine, then Strattera, then Dexedrine again. I stopped taking medication in 2008. In 2010 I started taking Adderall, and I took it until July 2013. I stopped because the medication was giving me indigestion and causing me to hyperfocus and giving me anxiety. And amazingly enough, the systems I had implemented while taking Adderall held up to the lack of medication. I have now been med-free for eight months, and I am doing really well.

I do not have a job outside of my home. I am a housewife and I work from home. This was necessary due to anxiety and how completely working decimates my executive functioning. Add to that my introversion, and you have someone who really needs to be alone a lot of the time anyway. I have used alarms, I rely on my day planner, I have routines in place to help me stay on task and get stuff done.

Here’s the thing about ADHD: even medicated, even with all of the strategies in place you can think of, even with all of the “fluff” taken out of your schedule (and then what fun is your life?), even with all of those things in place… ADHD is inconsistent. The only consistent thing about my ADHD is its inconsistency.

I lose track of time really easily. This is a hallmark of ADHD. Time is not concrete. I set alarms, I write things in my day planner, and I aim to leave at least half an hour before I need to be somewhere because it takes half an hour to get to the city from my house. In fact, I plan to leave 45 minutes to a full hour early so that when I am actually heading down the driveway it might actually be half an hour before I need to be wherever I’m going. That strategy doesn’t always work, of course. And when it doesn’t, I try to text or call my friends who I am going to be late for (same with babysitting). I don’t have to worry about appointments because I make them for during a weekday and I spend the entire day in the city so that I can be on time for the appointment without having to worry about that half-hour drive.

I don’t lose my car keys because I keep them in my purse. When I didn’t carry a purse, I kept my wallet and keys in a bin by the front door. Most of us have these systems in place. When we do lose something like this, it’s because our system got disrupted somehow. We dropped our keys or got to talking to someone on the way into the house and put them on the counter instead of the bin by the door and then the mail went on top of the keys and they’re missing because looking underneath things is hard.

ADHD is well-known, to be sure, but it is absolutely not well-understood. We have to deal with jokes about squirrels, comments about how we’re just making excuses, articles by doctors about how ADHD doesn’t exist, and diatribes like the one I’m responding to. We are doing our best. We are trying as hard as we can. We are being told, at every turn, that we are lazy, that we are incapable, that we are incompetent, that the label that helps us understand ourselves is fake, that the medication we take to manage our lives is unnecessary, etc. etc.

“Taking responsibility” for our disability (yes, it is a disability for most of us, please don’t pretend otherwise) means trying everything and still failing. It means that sometimes we are going to have to say “I’m sorry, my ADHD makes that really hard. I’m working on it.” It means that sometimes we need your forgiveness and understanding, because we did our best and everything fell apart anyway.

Because, frankly, listening to you tell me that I’m just making excuses doesn’t fly in polite company. It is disrespectful for you to assume that you know all about my life and how I manage my disability. You need to understand that when I have an ADHD-related “oops” that is not me thinking that “I’m soooo special and important and my time is soooo much more valuable than everybody else’s so just put up with me!!” [I quoted that bit directly. It was too perfect to illustrate this person’s attitude.], it is my ADHD choosing to bugger things up so that I look irresponsible.

I am not irresponsible. I am the complete opposite of irresponsible. I am not inconsiderate, either.

What I am is a person who has ADHD.

And that is not an excuse, it’s an explanation.

Disability vs Impairment: My thoughts.   4 comments

Yesterday I shared this link on Facebook with this comment:

This is a good article. I’m rather iffy on the bit in the middle where she talks about “impairment” being the bit you can’t do no matter what and “disability” being the thing society imposes upon you, because I sure as heck don’t feel “impaired” when executive dysfunction kicks in. 😛

So I was asked how I define “impairment.” Here’s my answer:

The word “impaired” implies that things are not as serious. The distinction she says the social model makes between being “disabled” by society (having ability taken away by something external to oneself) and being “impaired” regardless is cosmetic at best.

When I really want to do something and never get to it because my ADHD decided I should hyperfocus on something completely different (and usually fairly useless), that’s not an “impairment”; it’s an inability to do something I would like to do. That’s a disability. And it’s within, not without.

I feel like sometimes these distinctions are made by people with physical/acquired disabilities and they have forgotten about those of us who don’t fit that profile.

Having said that, I don’t like person-first language either and I am frustrated that the name of my disorder doesn’t lend itself well to identity-first language.

Someone else has now talked about what impairment means and so on, and how “disability” is about social and “impairment” is about objective difficulties with things. But their examples are, again, all about physical disabilities. My response:

Except there aren’t always accommodations that will help. A lot of mental disabilities can’t be accommodated. It seems that the biggest thing for something like what I deal with is often “change your expectations” or “be okay with not being able to do the same stuff as well as you did yesterday” and stuff like that. That’s not an accommodation at all; it’s not allowing me to still get things done (both things I need to do and things I want to do), it’s expecting me to just change my attitude. And that’s not always possible. (Adjusting my attitude has resulted in much better self-esteem and I am much more able to deal with life when ADHD derails my day, but it isn’t an accommodation because it’s not making it so my day stays on track.)

The kinds of accommodations I need from society also aren’t exactly things that you can expect anyone to give. Flexible appointment times for doctors and dentists and so on? It is to laugh. (And by flexible I don’t mean “pick from these available times,” I mean “it’s no big deal if you’re half an hour late because your ADHD is a pain in the butt.”)

And this is the frustration with the social model of disability, and the frustration with the terminology of “impairment” vs “disability.” I don’t experience these things as “impairment”; I experience them as “disability.” As in “I have a lack of ability in this area.” And it’s not something that can be fixed.

I know I’m probably shouting into the wind here. I like the social-relational model of disability a lot, but I don’t like replacing the word “disability” with “impairment” because it implies that it’s not as severe. It implies that if society doesn’t expect my brain to function just like non-ADHD brains, and makes allowances for that and accommodates the difficulties I have because of it, then I am somehow not as disabled/impaired by my ADHD. Like removing stigma and discrimination magically makes my ADHD easier to live with.

It doesn’t work that way.

I know it doesn’t work that way because I have bent and twisted my life as much as possible to accommodate my ADHD, and I am still disabled. I have friends and family who accommodate my difficulties and accept me just as I am, and I am still disabled.

I will always be disabled, even if I wake up tomorrow and everyone believes in and accommodates ADHD.

That’s just how it is.