ADHD makes life interesting. I often find myself viewing myself as two separate entities. There's Dave, the human with good intentions, and then there's Dave's ADHD Brain with intentions devoid of any moral grounding. It sounds awful, but let me explain.
Good Dave wants to be successful, raise his kids right, be a loving and compassionate husband, and be a steward of the money he feels grateful to earn. He wants to get things done on time with quality, sleep well, and live well. At my core, that is who Dave knows he strives to be.
Dave's ADHD brain, on the other hand, seems to not care whatsoever what Dave wants. It wants Dave to be perfectionistic to the point where he can't start anything and only gets things done in a fear-based manic mode. This ultimately produces work that is not even close to the original perfection envisioned, which only serves to reinforce future perfectionism because disappointment cannot stand!
Dave's ADHD brain wants Dave to be less present for his kids, to get stuck on his phone while they yearn to play with him. Dave's ADHD brain tries to get Dave to pick arguments with his wife for the sake of arguing, to make everything an unhealthy competition, and to be too sensitive to negative but warranted feedback. Dave's ADHD brain wants revenge on the day that stole his "me time" every night, getting him stuck scrolling through YouTube shorts until it's obviously past the point where he could get the good night's sleep he wants so badly. Dave's ADHD brain wants Dave to be utterly reckless with his money, spending it on anything and everything that gives him even the slightest positive vibration, without a care in the world for all the obviously more important, fulfilling, intangible, and life-transforming features a healthy and stable relationship with money has to offer.
It is in that massive gap between what Dave's connected, human, core self desires and what Dave's ADHD brain has him actually do in the world that the unbearably heavy emotions of shame and guilt build. It is also a fertile breeding ground for anxiety and depression.
Your deep-down self has to keep watching the ADHD-driven "what you do" self over, and over, and over again. And that sucks.
So we can talk executive functions and dopamine deficiencies until the cows come home. But at the heart of the ADHD condition is our everyday lived experience of the exhausting repetition with which we continue to go back to the well of personal destruction. ADHD expressing itself through financial destruction is one of the most painful and difficult cycles to break. That's because money is absolutely loaded with emotions, history, and its tentacles touch every domain of life.
But the silver lining about ADHD is that even though we get beat down so much, we tend to find a way to bounce back. As purely a product of survival, we learn how to become incredibly resilient. I am not one to go off about how ADHD is some superpower or gift. It's not a superpower or a gift in my opinion. But that doesn't mean you can't accept the lot you've been given, accept that there are a lot of things you suck at. There's a lot of things everyone sucks at. Just look around! Anyone who says they are perfect or always good is lying.
I suck at money. You suck at money. Accept it. Say it yourself. "I suck at money, and that's okay. I am okay." Deep breath in, deep breath out. Let it go. Now, let's get better at money together.
The ultimate lesson here is about acceptance and resilience. ADHD can make financial management and other aspects of life incredibly challenging, but it's crucial to recognize and accept our imperfections without allowing them to define our self-worth. By acknowledging our struggles and working together to improve, we can transform our relationship with money and other facets of life. Remember, resilience isn't about being perfect; it's about bouncing back and striving to be better despite our flaws. Let's embrace our ADHD, accept our shortcomings, and work towards a healthier and more fulfilling life.