Here we go again.
I’m sitting down remembering what I told myself upon the return from my last solo trip with work “Next time I will do better, I'm going to be so organised it will blow my socks off” Yet here I am, I am not packing, just being. A place where I find myself all too often. From the outside, I might look like I'm not doing anything and just being lazy, but my mind is using enough energy. I look down at the suitcase that hasn’t made it to the door, where I always leave it to remind myself that I need to pack.
It starts to feel like it’s the dog sitting there looking up at me, whining to remind me “I haven’t been out in a while and if you don’t let me out, the living room is my comfort spot, and I will leave you a present on the carpet.”
*Sitting for another 10 minutes mentally packing but not physically moving.
“Why am I doing this, I can see it, I know I need to do it so just do it already!”
Searching internally for a boost” Where is that dopamine, where is that last-minute anxiety I need and rely on so much that kicks my butt into gear?” *Dopamine is on holiday and anxiety arriving at the text that arrives on my phone telling me my driver is 1 hour away. The panic is enough to shake me from the rigour mortis of procrastination.
Shirt, jeans, pants, socks, laptop, and I'm halfway there. Passport? Where did I leave you? Ah, that’s it in the drawer, nope, in the cupboard where it always goes? nope. “Kelly! (my wife and second brain) I can’t find my passport!!” Kelly walks in with my passport, my wallet and my flight documentation. “I've got them here; you told me to get these for you this morning” “Did I?” No memory of that whatsoever. It must have been during the Dopamine hit I got whilst watching a pilot video of the plane I'm travelling on today on YouTube, convincing myself I could be a pilot.
The doorbell rings and I'm running through the pre-flight checklist my wife put together for me. “Shirt, pants, socks, laptop and charger. CHARGER!!!” I rush to get my charger and throw it into the suitcase. I calmly walk towards the car waving goodbye to the family. It's always hard leaving them behind, I rely on them for structure and love to keep me on a path of succession and knowing they won't be travelling with me fuels the anxiety.
“Hello Sir, can I take your bags?” “Thank you” Sudden thoughts of how rich people and celebs go through daily with this first-class treatment. I'm smiling and feeling empowered. The driver is still looking at me as I realise, I’ve drifted off and haven’t handed him my bag, too busy envisioning what could have been if I had ever spent more than 5 minutes on that football career I convinced myself I would have after watching west ham win the Europa conference league the night before with maximum levels of dopamine setting in.
I'm still not present, thinking about what could have been, the next Paulo Dicanio (West Ham hero for those that don’t know), who knows? And I’m back, the driver confirms my destination and away we go. “Are you a football fan Paul?” Boy is he about to regret he ask me that.
We arrive at the airport and as I exit the car and say my goodbyes the anxiety is back and I'm alone. It is time to put my game face on because I can’t show any emotion of weakness otherwise people might see that, judge me and *thinks of the worst possible outcome” It's busy as I walk in and immediately feel the sweaty palms, light-headedness as I see the mass amounts of people frantically looking for their check-in desk. I have a realisation as I’ve paused to take in what’s going on around me “No one is looking at me?” why would they? They don’t know me and how arrogant of me to think that I've travelled all this way for a group of people, whom I've never met before and clearly have their own internal dialogue going on to want to notice me and judge me. No one cares! *Brief moment of relief as I calmly walk over to the shop to buy a £3 can of Coke to give me the hit of sugar I need after I've drained my body of its energy.
Now you know the drill by now, no liquids and all products inside a clear white bag, only the ones supplied by the airport are to be used. Yet I’m standing here drinking my drink reading the signs and thinking internally about the colour scheme they used for the background and font not really reading what’s being asked of me. Then it dawns on me, and I want the ground to swallow me up. So many times, I have tutted and judged those who make it all the way to security with their bottle of water and not using a bag for the items. I today am one of them. A thought pops into my head and instead of acting on the advice and task given to me on the light blue background that looks like the sky and yellow font looking banana esk “If I am now one of them then I’m normal and I can be accepted by the people of neurotypical life!” “Sir, move forward and throw that bottle in the bin, please. Read the signs, sir!” *Sinks internally and worries that the security officer is upset with me and that maybe I should share a joke with him so we can be friends.
Please step through this way sir, through the scanner “*alarm sounds “Sir please step to the side and see my colleague” “I’m a criminal! I start thinking about the worst-case scenario and for some reason, my mind tells me that my kids have played a trick on me and must have inserted a kilo of illegal narcotics in the inner pocket of my coat. I'm going to prison, and In front of all these people I will be tackled to the ground, il be on the news, and my family will never see me again. “Sir, you were told several times that you must take your belt off, this is why we are searching you.” Ah, I see, my apologies I'm still half asleep” I'm not, but it seems like the only valid excuse that they must have heard 1000 times today. Plus, I think sometimes I'm always half asleep. Unless it's shiny and exciting my mind is sleeping.
I've found a spot to sit, right in front of the departures board. My gates not been called yet, but in true classic fashion, I don’t have long to wait as I’ve just made it on time. Isn’t that the dream? It takes great planning to arrive at an airport, check-in, go through security, find your gate and board your plane simultaneously. This time it's through sheer luck and a lack of brain power, yet I will take this as a small victory.
Whilst I wait, I take the time to think about my small panic (Thought it was the end) I had when being searched and the thought of my children being undercover cartel drug mules who set their dad up on his trip to Oslo in order to get him out the picture so they can rule the house and live as cartel bosses” Seems plausible and I take a moment to laugh it off and remember how funny my brain can some times be.
These irrational thoughts are just thoughts however let's think about this. My brain works at 100mph always, I can think incredibly fast, and act to these incredibly fast. it’s a lack of a braking system that allows the thoughts to progress slightly longer than I would like. But this is a superpower that not all possess. Through all the negative procedures I have had to go through and blaming my ADHD for this, how about I add this to my list of strengths? Be proud of the fact I am able to determine outcomes much faster than others. If I could learn to control these thoughts and know how to separate them from what's reality and what’s at the appropriate time I would be able to use my ADHD superpower to help myself and others
With ADHD my superpower is Spidey sense. I can tell when someone is lying, I can tell how someone's feeling by just examining their dimenor. I can spot the odd one out in a crowd of people. I'm always scanning the horizon. I’m looking for the threat, the hazard to protect me. In an airport filled with people, it’s a great opportunity for me just to watch and analyse people's movements, their facial expressions and assign them in my brain with my own labels. Drunk, lost, scared, sad and suspicious. I've learnt to love this about myself, and this is really important to do this. I am who I am and I don’t need to change me. Of course, there are improvements to be made however neurodiversity makes me excellent and some things and below average in others. This is called a spikey profile.
As I find myself settled at the departure gate, contemplating the whirlwind of thoughts and experiences that marked my journey through the airport, I can't help but appreciate the unique tapestry that ADHD weaves into my life.
From the chaotic dance of last-minute packing to the unexpected episode at security, each moment is a snapshot of the neurodiverse adventure that is travelling with ADHD. The internal struggles and amusing anecdotes are like the colourful brushstrokes that paint my narrative.
In the midst of the airport hustle, I've come to realize that my mind, despite its occasional eccentricities, is a powerhouse of rapid-fire thoughts and perceptions. It's a superpower — my Spidey sense — allowing me to read the unspoken cues of the world around me, to spot the nuances that might elude others.
While some may see ADHD as a series of challenges, I choose to embrace it as my own unique way of experiencing the world. My mind's accelerated pace is not a flaw but a feature, a spiky profile that gifts me with insights and perspectives that others might miss.
As the departure board lights up with my gate number, I board the plane with a sense of victory. It might not be the result of meticulous planning, but the triumph lies in navigating the neurodiverse skies with resilience and humour.
So, here's to the adventures that come with being a traveller in the world of ADHD. It may not always be a smooth flight, but it's undeniably a journey filled with unexpected detours, fascinating observations, and the realization that my neurodiversity is, indeed, my greatest asset.
Until the next chapter unfolds, fasten your seatbelts — the neurodiverse journey continues.
Comments