I am at the point in my life where I am tired of being mad at myself.
Not in some dramatic, life-altering way.
I am literally tired of looking around my house and thinking, Seriously? Again?
There are things that need to be cleaned. Things that need to be organized. Things I want to write. Things I want to make. Things I bought because apparently purchasing supplies and actually using them are two completely different hobbies.
There are sooooo many things I want to do.
And yet, there I am.
On the couch.
Watching a rerun of something I have already seen while simultaneously doomscrolling on my phone.
Living the dream.
I have ADHD.
And understanding that has helped me give myself grace for a lot of things I spent years believing were character flaws.
But lately I have been wrestling with something else.
At what point does understanding why something is difficult become different from deciding what I am going to do about it?
ADHD makes things harder for me. I know that.
But I also know something else.
I am happier when I get things done.
I like walking into a clean room. I like finishing something I started. I like creating things. I like that little moment when I stand back and think, Well, look at me.
It’s getting from the couch to that feeling that seems to be the problem.
So I was thinking about all of this today and got some very reasonable advice:
Just start with ten minutes.
And immediately I thought…
Ten minutes?
I have HOURS worth of things to do.
Ten minutes felt like making the minimum payment on a credit card with a huge balance. Sure, I made a payment. But I’m never getting ahead.
Maybe sometimes the minimum payment is exactly what I need.
There are days when getting off the couch and doing something—anything—is a victory. Five minutes counts. Ten minutes counts. Starting counts.
But maybe there are also days when I have the capacity for more. Days when I don’t need to make the minimum payment. I need to pay down some principal.
Not pay off the entire balance in one Saturday.
I’ve tried that Saturday. The one where I decide today is the day the office gets reorganized, the closet gets purged, and I finally start that project I keep mentioning — all before lunch, fueled by nothing but Dr Pepper Zero Sugar and unrealistic expectations. By 2pm I’ve made a mess in three rooms instead of progress in one, and I’m sitting on the floor of the closet holding a drawer of cables I don’t remember owning.
That financial strategy doesn’t work.
An hour spent on the room that has been driving me crazy. An afternoon working on something I keep saying matters to me. Enough time that when I stop, something is actually different.
Maybe that’s the part I’ve been missing.
I’ve spent a lot of years bouncing between two extremes: doing almost nothing because everything feels overwhelming, or deciding that Tomorrow Will Be The Day I Finally Get My Entire Life Together.
Tomorrow has been under a lot of pressure. I’m thinking maybe I should give her a break.
I don’t want to spend the next chapter of my life perpetually frustrated with myself. I don’t want ADHD to be something I use to beat myself up. But I don’t want it making all my decisions either.
So maybe I don’t need to conquer procrastination.
Maybe I just need to ask myself a different question:
What kind of payment can I make today?
Some days, the minimum will be enough. Some days, I can pay down the principal. And some days, perhaps the most important thing will simply be recognizing that I get to decide.
Apparently I have discovered a new financial strategy for dealing with my brain.
I’ll let you know how it goes.
But first, a nap.
But first a nap 