Count on me to be forthright, honest and open about my life, as seen through the eyes of a midlife women with "classic" attention deficit disorder.
by Linda Roggli
Never give an ADD woman a choice. It’s agony for me to figure out the "correct" option. I tend to fudge on my decisions by combining tidbits of several possibilities, so the outcome isn’t so black-and-white. I hate black-and-white. It’s so... final. Permanent. Ick. What if I make a mistake? Double ick.
So when the web editor at ADDitude magazine told me my first blog entry could be either an introduction to me, my life and my attention deficit disorder... or a regular jump-right-into-it post, I knew I was in trouble.
I wanted this inaugural post to be especially compelling and articulate. Approachable. After all, many of you don’t know me yet. First impressions are so important. It’s the moment expectations are set. Opinions flourish. Wretched rejection or astonishing approval hangs in the balance.
So I chewed on my options, stewed in the possibilities and developed a gigantic case of anxiety. Even my old friend Ms. Deadline couldn’t shake me out of my inertia. Just do it. Just DO it! I’m a writer, for Pete’s sake. How long does it take to churn out 500 words, give or take? Ah, that depends entirely on my level of procrastination. Which depends entirely on the i-m-p-o-r-t-a-n-c-e of the task. Which kicks in an accompanying dose of perfectionism – usually an overdose, in my case. Heck, shoot me up with high grade Perfectionism and I can be paralyzed for weeks. Even months or years. Just ask my book coach.
Yes, I am writing a book. I wrote one 10 years ago and swore I’d never do it again. By the time I reached “The End,” I was sick of it. The tortuous (profoundly perfection-laded) process dulled my delight at being published. Never again, I said.
I felt the same way about childbirth immediately after my oldest son was born. Notice I said "oldest." There is a "youngest" son. Obviously, after a few years, I changed my mind about birthing more babies. Just as I changed my mind about birthing another book. And a new blog.
This blog, like my book about ADD women, opens the door to my ADD soul and invites you to peek inside, to share my agony and ecstasy as I alternately bump into furniture (hey; I was thinking about something else!) and triumph over a silly deadline (you’re reading this so my creativity has returned!).
I have no agenda for this blog; I make no promises about a consistent theme or chronological flow (OK, I know you’re shocked, but try to contain yourself!). You are permitted a few expectations, however:
I am deeply honored that you choose to spend some of your precious time with me. And I will always respond if you comment or ask questions about a post. Always.
So here we are, nearing the end of the fateful 500 words, give or take. I have avoided the dreaded black-and-white decision (note the flavorful options sprinkled throughout) and temporarily conquered perfectionism (or perhaps I should edit once more?).
And I have made peace with the truth about this blog: that whatever transpires on these virtual pages will be perfectly imperfect. That’s a promise I can keep.