Psychology

Early in the summer holidays, I was trying hard to write a blog post about ADHD.

This may be prompted by the fact that I now find myself teaching Psychology, a subject that I have a fascination for, and the study of the human psyche will now be more than just a hobby. It will form part of my actual job.

I definitely think that a degree of self-analysis  is good – possibly even essential – if one is to function in the world, but the post I started to write left me feeling a bit  uneasy. So I didn’t publish it.

The gist of it? I was essentially concluding that I have ADHD traits, and that maybe, that has been my “problem” all along. I did an online diagnostic test. I recalled things about my childhood. It all started to make sense.

But the post remained in draft form because something didn’t feel right. I didn’t want to upset anyone who felt I might be jumping on the ADHD bandwagon. I didn’t want to dumb down a diagnosis of any kind by assuming I could just essentially declare myself thus.

But that wasn’t really the mission. It wasn’t a declaration. It was just, essentially, my ponderings; I have often been considered odd. And why is that?

“Normal” is a very difficult thing to define. Nobody is the same, and the human psyche is very complex. With those parameters involved, there is obviously scope for different interpretations of human behaviour. ADHD is not the same for everyone: some people are diagnosed with it, some people are not, some people who are diagnosed with it don’t suffer as much as some people who remain undiagnosed do. It is such a minefield that I don’t really understand it and so probably I should stop typing right now.

But the thing is, I find myself at a very self-analytical phase of my life, and this is just a another one of the things I feel the need to express, with typed words, as I do. So please forgive me.

Today, my current inability to focus on one job at a time, the feelings of overwhelm that flood over me that never used to (even when our family of six lived in a shed) and the poor sleep patterns are probably mostly age-related. But I do wonder if there may be more to it…

And whilst I won’t dwell too much on the reasons why I may have been considered neuro-atypical as a kid, I must admit, when I recall the perpetual leg scratching (self-harm?) era, the chanting prayer-like mantras I performed daily, the haircuts I chose in order to deliberately AVOID fashion, the all-consuming worries that plagued my head, the obsessive revision patterns, the awkward introspectiveness, the hyper focus on certain (dead) celebrities and the time when I chose to change my name to Tree, it did raise alarms in my head. But it was the 90s. Anxiety was considered something you got before an exam and could be solved with a cup of tea and a Marathon bar. If you needed counselling, you were a nutcase. Back then, manic and depressive were words that sat side by side, oddly, and very few people had heard of Cognitive Behavioural Therapy.

I stopped writing my previous post because whatever I may or may not have “had” as a kid, in spite of the above, I was kind of functioning. The obsessive revision got me good grades. The fashion avoidance meant my hair lasted undamaged until I started f@cking with it in my forties. The chanting mantras didn’t really work reliably, though, because my dad still left and my uncle still died. But by and large, I was – I think I can say it – happy.

As a Psychology Teacher, I am currently embarking on a unit about Psychological Problems and the understanding of mental health. It is a fascinating topic which, at its essence, tries to makes sense of the human condition. It’s about the Biology behind our brains, the Chemistry behind our hormones, the Physics behind our electrical synapses, and how those things, combined with our lived experiences, contribute to an individual’s wellbeing – to their life journey. Good mental health is a state of well-being in which every individual realises his or her own potential, can cope with the normal stresses of life, can work productively and fruitfully, and is able to make a contribution to her or his community, according to the World Health Organisation. Very few people experience this all the time, if any. Lots of people experience it sometimes. Also, lots of people rarely have it. That’s really sad. 

Big Seymour is one of the rare few people who seem to live in the now. He couldn’t be less new-age if he tried but he is the accidental epitome of mindfulness. He doesn’t wear a watch, he never knows what day it is and he just gets on with the job in hand. It really is quite refreshing to witness. It’s not that he lives without stress and he definitely worries about stuff, but he does it when it’s necessary. He lives in the moment. For this reason, he is quite inspiring.

And there are two other people who have, just this week, inspired me. One is Ruby Wax who put into words something I have been realising and trying to implement recently with varying degrees of success. She used the term “neural wifi” to explain how other people tune in to our mood and that, if we can be positive and upbeat, it can be contagious. Other people in our midst will follow suit. I like that. And then there was Natalie Imbruglia who was on BBC Breakfast on Friday. She summed up my own experience by explaining that when she got to a certain age, her “neurodivergent came out to play”.  And there we have it. Hormone changes, life, quirks, expectations, overload, big questions and BOOM! You may not recognise yourself. Thanks Natalie. That little description helped me to understand my own brain. Maybe I’m “normal” after all!

Ultimately, there is only so much self-reflection that is healthy. I’m done for now. After an exciting summer of heat, exam results, birthdays and with a dramatic and terrifying sea rescue thrown in, you realise that life is happening each and every day, whether we’ve sussed our own brains or not. Whether the house is finished or the washing is done or the fiscal goals are met, tempus fugit.

Carpe diem.

#oneofmygcseswasinlatin

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