For most of my ADHD life, I have focused on treating my condition behaviorally. Using the principle of brain plasticity, I’ve gradually trained myself to adopt different habits, develop more self-discipline, and structure my time and my external environment in ways that compensate for my deficit of internal structure.
As a musician, I’m used to the idea that I can become skilled at something through steady practice over a long period of time. Each of my weaknesses with ADHD – time management, resisting distractions, starting and stopping tasks, and so on – are like techniques on an instrument that I can practice every day, and over months and years, I’ll get better and better until I’ve mastered my instrument.
This “heroic” approach, while it has served me well, was also naive. A few years ago, I arrived at a place where I had actually overcome many of my behavioral challenges quite effectively. I had gotten good enough at my compensatory skills that they had become habitual, and I actually felt like, to some degree, I was my own master. The problem was, I was exhausted.
Just as medication alone doesn’t “cure” ADHD, behavioral interventions also aren’t sufficient by themselves, because at its core, there is a biological component to the disorder. When I had arrived at a point where my positive habits had become ingrained, I was “behaving correctly,” I was “doing the right thing,” but my brain was out of juice. I would frequently crash by early afternoon, and my brain would feel like it was 11 PM.
ADHD is not just a behavioral issue; it’s an energy issue. Our brains do not have enough dopamine. That’s why stimulants work – they bring the dopamine levels in the brain up to normal levels. As a neurodevelopmental disorder, ADHD is not just a cluster of behavioral “patterns” that can be trained into new patterns. It’s a lack of natural aptitude for these patterns which is hard-wired into the structure of our brains. We can no more change the basic structure of our brains than an autistic person can. Of course, autistic people can learn social skills, coping mechanisms, and behavioral interventions, but they cannot “hack” their brains into not being autistic. We with ADHD are no different.
No matter what strategies I develop, I will always have a deficiency in dopamine. If I don’t manage my energy parallel with managing my behavior, I will crash and burn, because my brain will simply run out of fuel. Now, while I’m creating and following schedules, using timers, practicing mindfulness to resist distractions, and so on, I’m also keeping my brain fueled with good nutrition, coffee or tea, 8 hours of sleep at night, naps when I need them – and, yes, medication when I need it. I take a two-pronged approach of trying hard and resting hard from the fatigue of having tried hard.
This requires, first and foremost, awareness of when my brain’s gas tank is getting low, and the grace to honor my own energy needs. I witness a perfect example of this every week with one of my adult music students. He is very self-aware about his ADHD, and knows what his limits are. Every ten minutes or so, he’ll put his instrument down and step into his kitchen to take a drink of water, or to look for something he’s misplaced which has no relevance to the lesson.
I used to get annoyed by this, but I’ve realized that he’s taking mini-breaks. He’ll frequently go off on a tangent about something in his life, and after a minute he’ll say “okay, I’m done, I can focus again now.” And, every so often, he’ll end the lesson 5 or 10 minutes early, telling me “that’s all I’ve got today, my brain is done.” Sometimes we start late, too. I’ll arrive at his house on time, and he’s still getting himself together – getting his bass out of the case, setting up the music stand, and arranging things in the room. He’ll say “sorry, I don’t quite have my shit together yet.” (This makes me feel better about the times I’m five minutes late to his lesson because I don’t have my shit together.)
The beautiful thing about this student is that he doesn’t appear to be stressed out about his behavior, nor is he overly apologetic. He apologizes as a way of acknowledging and explaining his behavior, but he doesn’t feel bad about it – nor should he. He knows when his brain needs a rest, or when his brain is just not up for the task, and he honors that. We all could follow his example.
In addition to resting when we need to rest, we can also anticipate our brain’s energy depletion and therefore make life easier for ourselves. Even though it goes against my ADHD nature to plan ahead, I now try to space tasks out over long periods of time, knowing that I’ll get mentally fatigued easily. When I have to do taxes, for example, I accept the fact that my brain will run out of juice, so I no longer cram it all into one long marathon session like I used to. Instead, I do a little bit each day, over the course of a week or two. Same with my writing: while I absolutely love to write, I have learned that I max out at two or three hours (on a good day), and if I push it further, I’ll have less mental energy for the rest of my day, or even for the next day’s writing. When I feel like my brain has hit a wall, instead of trying to muscle through it, I just close my laptop and wait till the next day.
All of this runs contrary to our culture’s emphasis on grit, determination, willpower, and the like. Sure, there’s a time for pushing through resistance. This is an important skill as well – to recognize the difference between fatigue and avoidance. Even so, willpower is not inexhaustible. Mental energy is no different than physical energy. Arguably, they’re inseparable. The brain is a physical organ and has finite resources. Just as we need to recognize our limits and rest when necessary while doing physical exercise, we need to apply the same discernment while exerting ourselves mentally.
Of course we all have obligations we need to meet, whether we have the energy or not. But there’s a point where effort crosses over into force, and that’s a distinction our culture neglects. If we’re lifting weights, it’s useful to push ourselves to our limit, and give an extra burst of energy when we feel we’re getting tired. But too much weight, or too many reps, and our muscles will just give out.
Even when we do successfully push ourselves, that leaves us with an energy deficit later. It can actually be more productive to rest when rest is needed, and then pick the task back up later, when we’re refreshed. I mean real rest – taking a nap, meditating, lying down with our eyes closed – not scrolling through social media or binging on YouTube videos (yes, I’m lecturing myself here). Mindless stimulation is not rest, it’s merely relief from focus.
Those of us with ADHD probably feel the way that normal people feel when they haven’t gotten enough sleep. We probably feel at the beginning of the day how other people feel at the end of the day. Just as we’d have understanding for people who just can’t tackle their work at 11 PM after a long day, or the guy at the office who can’t focus because he was up all night with a newborn, we should have understanding for ourselves, because our brains in “normal mode” are already operating from a deficit. The path to success is to work with our brains, not against them – not through force and sheer will, but through self-awareness and cooperation with reality.
Fill your bowl to the brim
and it will spill.
Keep sharpening your knife
and it will blunt.
-Tao Te Ching, chapter 9
