Is it ADHD culture or just ADHD trauma?

Is there a way to switch gears even when you're running late, overhwhelmed, and already past crispy? Isabelle and David explore how changing gears, especially during a transition--whether it's starting a conversation, leaving the house, beginning a work task--is up to us and how hard and real the struggle is and how important it can be to get your reps in. From potato sprouts and Carl Rogers, to neurodivergent trauma as culture, to all those half finished water bottles underneath your carseat, this conversation embraces what it means to share collective wounds as well as adaptations to a world not built for neurodivergent folx.----Isabelle (speaking of a hard moment trying to get herself and her kids out the door when they're already running so late and then stopping, covering her eyes and ears, and just sitting on the couch)-- thought this "busy-ness" was a personality trait, moving on to the next, to the next, to the next—to always be busy, harried, running behind. And you can’t expect the environment to stop when things feel like too much. Pandemic was not a blessing in disguise (that’s BS), and Isabelle’s experience was that on top of the systemic and personal trauma and wanting to chew her own arm off, it was the first time the world did stop to a degree—it took a lot of demands and choices off the table for her. How often when she is burned out and crispy does she want the world to stop, for things to slow down, to quiet down on a sensory level.  And when the world stopped, that wasn’t the answer either, she actually found herself doing more—it’s a lot to realize that the world won’t stop for you and even when it does, it doesn’t address the overwhelm problem. David names that a lot of social expectations changed—doing laundry, doing hygiene. Finding out which things were effective and which weren’t was a lot then. In couples, there’s a big difference between a harsh versus a soft startup, taken from the work of the Gottmans (see links below). The harsh versus soft start up through transitions—are you giving yourself a harsh or a soft start up to a task? What do you need to transition to a particular activity—do you want to get there late, stressed, sweaty? Or do you want to get there and be bored for a bit, because you're about to read to kids in a library and need to come in with less energy? When Isabelle sits and asks for help, she interrupts and resets a harsh start up to a soft start up. She is doing for herself what she wishes another person would do. Sits her down, has her take a moment, helps take away the expectations and demands. Bobby can do that sometimes, but also she can’t expect someone to do that everyday. And it helps her get reps at switching from a soft to a harsh transition. She didn’t think she had a gear shift; she was on and off. It’s existential, you have to reset your own expectations and what it means to stop. Isabelle has to unmask, and reveal how vulnerable she is and ask for what she needs, she has to face trauma. A client of hers recently invented (she thinks?) This term “ADHD trauma.” Being neurodivergent in a neurotypical world that’s constructed to benefit and aid neurotypical ways of being generates trauma by virtue of the not having the right manual. And David calls this ADHD culture. We have different problems with friend groups or making purchases or being an imposter, the thing that makes this podcast fun to listen to. Culture is defined by how we dance with trauma. Every kind of culture—race, class, etc.—sets the standard of how you interact with the world. The feeling of going into a class and forgetting you had a test; all those empty water bottles under the seats, if you could clap your hands and the pile of laundry, the corner you forgot existed—and suddenly we feel better because you’re not the one who is like that. Does having ADHD make me allergic to rigid capitalist systems? There’s two people: the ADHD person is going to look down at the cliff and see apples and yells “apples!” And then the other person hears “oh, apples?” and makes an apple farm. We're not all the same but we do have something in common. Anything that overwhelms our capacity to cope or unable to change it—isn’t any identity the world wants you to change but you can’t going to set you up for overwhelming your capacity to cope (you can’t run from it, hide it, fight it, play dead…etc.) David has a thought: when he was getting kicked out of school, his brain coded that as bad. Fast forward, he ended up going to grad school at Northwestern. And not a lot of people at Northwestern got kicked out of high school. It’s definitely not something that you talked about. But then, he started working and advocating with Eye to Eye and other groups—suddenly, his story had worth. The amount of relief he started to see on kids faces that “oh, you can recover from every mistake” and he wasn’t proud when it happened, but now it’s an important part of his origin story. In community and connection, the very thing you’re hiding is what I'm hiding--whoa, we don't have to hide, how much energy we get from not hiding this thing? When David first went to Northwestern he would lie and tell people he went to a local “multidirectional school" —those people weren’t good people and he didn’t want to be branded with those people. Isabelle doesn't want to say where she went to college. Because people from our culture don’t go to schools like that (like Harvard?) David had no models, didn't know how to say it. Everyone ‘thinks they’re the mistake.” Pause for effect, Isabelle went back and looked through her old medical records and she got her records from counseling while at college. In those clinical notes she received an ADHD diagnosis; multiple sessions where she as a client thought she had ADHD, and as many listeners will remember, she didn’t know she had ADHD until 15 years later. Isn't that really interesting—isn't that interesting that she was never told she was diagnosed with ADHD, there was no affirmation or information, and in the notes it indicated even why she was even given the type of antidepressant or weaned off, she walked around telling everyone who knew her "I think I have ADHD because I can’t focus anymore.” She wasn’t told she had a diagnosis. Even when she asked point blank. The world 25 years ago was really different, how much they maybe saved her from a tougher road. When you’re "not supposed to" be there, the messages you get at each of these places, to hide, to shame, to silence, to minimize. "Everyone has some ADHD, right?" The masking component has more consequences to neurospicy culture. We don't have the same the care and feeding instructions as the people around us, we’ll still grow but it's not the same. A potato sprout is going to grow and develop no matter what situation you're in, whether the potato is in the root cellar or planted in the earth (as Carl Rogers states, see actual full quote below). Across animal groups, culture is modifying your environment in order to adapt, at least how Isabelle learned what culture was when studying archaeology and social anthropology in college. We started to cook as a form of survival, the culture we form is the things we try to do to survive and adapt. Because we have to survive and shelter in the same places. Isabelle feels way better being a potato in the root cellar around potatoes also in the root cellar. Or at least better than the shriveled magic spell potato you find behind the drawer—forgotten produce! Another feature of neurodivergent culture.DEFINITIONS