A man walks down the street, he says, "Why am I short of attention, got a short little span of attention,"

 

I've rarely seen a better representation of what ADHD feels like on a day to day basis, especially for kids.

I want to reiterate that we know something is wrong with us, even if we haven't been diagnosed.  We know we have trouble paying attention, and that is frequently a source of extreme anxiety for us.  Especially when we repeatedly receive negative reinforcement for failing to pay attention.  For a neurotypical person, this might result in them learning to pay attention (though negative reinforcement as a whole is not the best way to teach anyone anything), but for us it's like smacking a paraplegic for "refusing" to walk; we can't fucking do it.

What is does result in is the development of defense mechanisms.

I have learned, for example, to have just enough of my attention devoted to whoever is talking at me to pick up some superficial words/terms and the very general gist.  That way, when whoever it is snaps, "You're not listening!  What did I just say?!"  I can reply, "You said (reference) (key word) (vague implication)," and thus avoid punishment.  Whoever it is returns to lecturing me, and I drift back into the ether.

If I happened to be focused on something when whoever it was started speaking to me, I was expected to put down whatever I was doing and listen.  This is almost impossible for people with ADHD.  We cannot regulate our attention.  I might set aside whatever I was doing, but my mind would still be on it.  And saying that I needed to finish whatever it was was unacceptable.  I was insulting the person who wanted to talk to me, implying that what I was doing was more important than they were.  Punishment again.  

These are the lessons drummed into me by childhood.  It was dangerous to let on that I wasn't listening.  It got me in trouble, it got me punished.  I was terrified of letting on that I wasn't paying attention.  But all those punishments, all that fear, didn't teach me to listen, they just taught me to hide.  I have a smiling, attentive mask rigidly moulded to my face, and I don't dare remove it.

The problem is, when you want to actually come to terms with ADHD and learn how to manage it, one of the first things you have to do is dismantle those defenses.  And that is one of the most difficult things you can imagine.

It is no longer dangerous for me to say that I was not paying attention, or that I didn't hear what someone was saying.  In fact, one of the most common phrases I hear from my husband is, "Just tell me."  But my defenses are sunk deep in bedrock, trenches dug and lined with concrete.  Nine out of ten times I don't think before I say, "Of course I was listening," or "I'm not doing anything, I can listen."  It just comes out.  And when I am called out for not listening, I respond with the same reflexive regurgitations that I did when I was a child.  I still get scared when I realise that I've lost the thread of a conversation, or when my defenses are recognised for what they are.

These are some of the hardest words I have ever learned to say:

"I'm sorry, I phased out.  Could you repeat what you were saying?"

"I'm focused on something right now.  Give me a minute?"

"No, that's not true, I wasn't listening.  I'm having trouble today."

The reflex is still there.  Maybe some day it won't be.  But for now all I can do is try to say these phrases, or something like them, in the aftermath. Chip away at the concrete, day by day.  Someday it will crumble.