Tales from the Front Lines

Winter 96

Like many people, I wear a lot of different hats. In addition to publishing The Coaching Gazette newsletter I am a father and husband, senior minister and coach, author and teacher, workshop leader and volunteer board and committee member, mentor and counselor, neighbor and friend. I also happen to have a genetically influenced neuro-biological disorder known as Attention Deficit Hyperactivity Disorder, or AD/HD, that went undiagnosed and untreated for the first 45 years of my life!

Simply stated, having ADD or AD/HD means the neurotransmitters (or messengers) of the sub-cortex of the brain don't speak to each other in the same way as in other people's brains when this condition is absent. Consequently, ADD folks lack the mental braking system necessary to stop, or inhibit certain kinds of behaviors and emotions.

The term deficit in the title can sometimes be misleading. There's an attention deficit precisely because we tend to scan and take everything in around us! We also very often take things in too quickly - much like a car that's rolling down a steep hill through a series of S-curves without any brakes! So then, the child with ADD or AD/HD sees and hears the math teacher at the blackboard explaining a problem - but is, at the same time, watching the custodian speaking to the fire inspector out in the hallway through a glass with wire-mesh panel in the classroom door, and simultaneously seeing and hearing a large white truck picking up green dumpsters of trash outside the window at the opposite end of the room! The attention deficit is really very often a surplus of attention, or data, that's very rapidly coming in! Some folks have the added challenges of learning disabilities that may co-exist with ADD such as dyslexia, auditory processing problems, and a math or foreign language disability. The authors of the best-selling book, Driven to Distraction state:

Since ADD affects all areas of cognition, it will exacerbate any learning disability, ADD is not a specific learning disability in itself, it does not disable any one cognitive function, but is broader than that. (p. 163.)

How I wish I had known this while struggling through two years of high school math and French classes. Or later on, while seemingly "dying" in seminary classes of Biblical Greek and Hebrew!

On the other hand, we AD/HD folks can also hyper-focus on a particular task. I vividly recall not leaving my seat at the kitchen table of my apartment for a full 72 hours while composing the thesis for my first seminary degree on a portable manual typewriter in 1978 - except for a few brief periods to visit the bathroom while simultaneously reading a book; or eating a snack while continuing to type and speak on the phone. No brakes!

When I smoked cigarettes, I consistently puffed on as many as 60 per day (i.e. 3 packs) for 26 years until finally quitting some 8 years ago. No brakes! Whenever I'd drink alcoholic beverages, stop to gamble at a casino while on vacation, or eat the foods I enjoyed - it was always to excess. No brakes! I never realized that I engaged in such behavior in order to slow down and focus. I only knew I seemingly lacked the necessary will power to change; So I would emotionally beat-myself-up for being internally weak! Imagine, a creative person who's IQ consistently scores well into the genius category - with three college degrees, a wife, a son, two cars, two cats, one mortgage and a successful professional life - not being able to "just say no" to a package of Hostess Twinkies at the local convenience store! Little did I know or understand that, along with thousands (if not millions) of others who share my condition, I was simply attempting to medicate myself and slow mys! elf do wn without the benefit of any professional medical assistance. And it worked - but only in rather sad, inappropriate, and even dangerous ways. Indeed, once I had literally gained a few hundred unnecessary pounds, I became a lot slower than I once had been in my younger days - a genuine couch-potato! But I was mentally and emotionally just as scrambled as ever!

Now imagine experiencing all of this together with a perpetual knot in the stomach that frequently surfaces without warning as inappropriate anger or humor (the "class clown" syndrome!); an impulsive interruption of others who are speaking; a willingness to engage others in scathing debate even upon first meetings with them; uncontrolled changes of inner moods and mental lapses during any given conversation; unexplained periods of depression and lethargy, insomnia, impulse spending and increased credit card debt; juggling several projects at once with very little consideration for detail or follow- through; low self esteem; a lack of personal concern for nutrition or health - and it's not difficult to paint a picture of someone who appears successful on the outside while experiencing inexplicable turmoil on the inside. Welcome to my world ... the topsy-turvy world of AD/HD!

Just for good measure, let's toss in the fact that I have worked for over 20 years to become a highly skilled and successful ordained minister, a so-called "man of God" to whom others (including many of my colleagues over the years) frequently turn in order to "straighten out their lives" and "get their problems solved." So then imagine what experiencing the symptoms of AD/HD on a daily basis in this context might do to your own self-esteem, sense of confidence and worth! I recall being openly chided during a doctoral seminar in pastoral care while in seminary by an otherwise competent professor who one day glared at me and pointedly said: "Jim, do you always laugh inappropriately during serious discussions? You had better not ever do so in the parish! You'll need to work on that... And please don't ever do so in this class, again!" No brakes!

The perpetual stacks and piles of papers, magazines, catalogs and assorted other clutter around my office was a physical representation of the mental and emotional clutter I was experiencing within. No wonder I was constantly forgetting simple tasks, people's names, or even where I had placed my keys. Oh yes, I have been late for a scheduled church meeting because it took a full 20 minutes to search for my keys! And of course I have purchased the wrong type of milk at the store. By the time I arrived at the proper aisle, I had forgotten why I was even in the store! Once the incorrect container of milk was discovered at home, I'd say, "But honey, just look at all the other great deals I found that weren't even on your shopping list!" Beginning to sound familiar? No brakes!

It's important to know that all people can experience some, or even most, symptoms of Adult ADD from time to time. Consider memory lapses, for example. I can't honestly recall ever being any other way. Yet I can recall feeling ashamed and embarrassed over 20 years ago the day someone asked me to read a lengthy magazine article entitled, "How To Improve Your Memory". I got more than half way through the entire article before putting down the magazine, looking up and sheepishly reporting with a straight and somber face, "You know, I just remembered something. I already read this entire article last week!" (I won't bore you by reporting the amount of money I've subsequently spent on audio and video-tape programs and herbal products that hold out the promise of improving the human memory!) The genuine difference for the ADD or AD/HD person is one of intensity and duration, and the fact that these symptoms present themselves in clusters (or bunches) of difficulties, simultaneously. It's not simply forgetting a name or a place; but doing so within ! an ent ire constellation of other ADD-related symptoms at home, at work, and in all that we do.

Today, I consider myself an extremely fortunate individual. I know that I have this condition, but I also know I'm in pretty good company (some well-known people with ADD and related problems include Albert Einstein, Mozart, John Lennon, Robin Williams, Cher, Agatha Christie, John F. Kennedy, Mariel Hemmingway and Dwight Eisenhower, just to name a few!) When I look back, it's truly miraculous that I never experienced any serious medical or legal difficulty because of the anger exhibited while driving a car, or drinking too heavily in order to slow down my internal pace (Thank God I never attempted to do both of these tasks at the same time)! It makes me wonder aloud how many ADD and AD/HD folks do experience such difficulties without ever learning about the root-cause of the problems they face vis-'a-vis the legal or medical situations they may have to endure.

After living in California for about a year, I discovered a magazine article about Coach University and its founder, Thomas J. Leonard. The ties between coaching and the parish ministry appeared obvious to me, and so I began to conduct some further investigation. This, in turn, led me to retain a personal coach who also happens to be an Episcopal priest with ADD (don't tell me God has no sense of humor!). Stephen took one look at the written assessments I had completed and asked if I had ever heard of ADD. I replied that I had heard of ADD in "unruly children" - but he was the first person to ever inform me that adults could experience this condition as well. He shared something of his own experience with me, and suggested a book I have subsequently recommended to other parishioners, coaching clients, medical professionals and friends. Reading Driven to Distraction was both an enlightening and frightening experience. In it, I saw myself and my life being openly discussed on what truly seemed like virtually every other page! This, together with the ongoing support and encouragement of my personal coach, finally led me to seek professional medical assistance.

In the prelude of her excellent book, entitled, A Comprehensive Guide to Attention Deficit Disorder in Adults, Kathleen G. Nadeau, Ph.D. writes: "No broadly accepted standard yet exists for the diagnosis of attention deficit disorder in adults." My personal physician was predictably skeptical about my story and its connections to the best-selling book I carried into his office one day - until I also produced the original copies of my own report cards dating back to grades I through 7 in New Jersey public schools. Year after year, the teacher's comments were absolutely and consistently classic examples of what we now know to be ADD in children. Since no definitive diagnostic tests for Adult ADD yet exist (unlike the more accurate testing that is available for children) personal and medical histories are crucial and are, in many cases, the determining factor.

My own report cards from grade school were critical in enabling my own condition to be professionally diagnosed and treated for the very first time. After reading six of the seven cards, my doctor looked up at me and said, "I think you're absolutely correct about these comments! You probably do have some form of ADD" What did these elementary school teachers have to say about me back than? Here are a few brief examples:

"Jimmy is doing well in his work. He could improve in listening and following directions"; and later in the year -"Jimmy has shown no improvement in his attitude toward responsibility and maturity." - A.C., 2nd Grade.

"Jimmy works very carelessly and is too easily distracted'; and later that year - "I have been disappointed in Jimmy's scholarship this year. This is due to lack of attention. He is a pleasant class member." - A.L.P., 3rd Grade.

"Jim is making no effort to improve his behavior. He talks continually." and later in the year - "With more effort, Jim could be a very good student." - D. H., the same 4th Grade teacher that was so upset she literally punched me in the side one day in class for not paying attention!

"Jim is sloppy and careless in much of his work. He does not take the time to read directions or do work neatly"; and also, "Jim is finding difficulty in keeping quiet of late. He thinks it's a big joke to be scolded for doing something wrong. It's a poor attitude to carry to 6th grade. Jim is a good student for the most part." - J.E.D., 5th Grade.

"Jim must work harder at his arith." - J.G., 6th Grade.

"James does too much fooling in class." - P.M.G., 7th Grade, and also, "James needs to put more concentrated effort into his class work." - M.P., 7th Grade.

Today, I am still not a "perfect" human being - far from it! But I also now know that I'm not crazy, lazy or unduly neurotic, either - and this continues to provide a tremendous sense of relief that empowers me. I am also constantly learning new ways to function more effectively in the world. I am working with a terrific nutritionist who provides me with the diet and exercise structure and support necessary to enable me to lose a great deal of fat without feeling deprived or hungry. I make a monthly visit to my physician to check on my blood pressure (which has recently reached a new low of 107 over 72), weight loss (which is now 146 lbs. closer to my personal goal), and the effects of the daily medication that helps me to mentally focus, and immediately enabled me to stop drinking any/all alcoholic beverages.

One final word of caution is simply this: Don't assume that all (or even most) medical people know any more about ADD or AD/HD then the people who live with it do! When I initially shared my own diagnostic suspicions with a well-intentioned friend and parishioner who works as a physician's assistant, he said, "I understand what you're saying. But you're also my pastor, and I guess I'd like for you to pray long and hard about it before spiritually surrendering by turning to secular drug therapy." I thought for a moment, smiled, and replied by saying, "If my problem is ADD-related, what makes you think I can concentrate long enough to listen for a divine answer in prayer?" And it's true. At that point in time, my own inner prayer life was as equally "cluttered" as the piles of papers in my office! Like many clergy-persons, I can pray aloud as eloquently as the next person before a crowd on Sunday morning - but that's precisely because I get to do all, or at least most, of! the taking! Telling an ADD or AD/HD child or adult who needs medication to "pay closer attention" or to "pray harder" is just as futile as telling a near sighted person without eyeglasses or contact lenses to "squint a lot harder" in order to clearly see - it just doesn't work! Consequently, I have come to appreciate the structure and focus that my weekly coaching sessions with Stephen provide. My family relationships at home have drastically improved according to the family members who live with me; and my relationships and effectiveness at work has significantly improved as well.

Together, these previously unforeseen and unknown factors have miraculously conspired to change my life for the better! In addition to continuing to serve the church as a local parish pastor, I am part of a 2-year Coach's Training Program at Coach University to acquire and utilize the skills needed in serving others as a professional coach. Utilizing the technologies available to most people via the telephone and/or computer modem, I can now offer a full and unique range of services to people who are both within and beyond the ADD-related communities, no matter where they may be living and working across the nation.

Succinctly stated, professional coaching provides an effective means by which people can move from where they presently find themselves in life and in work, to where they desire to be. At this stage of my own life's journey and work, I believe that coaching represents a contemporary manifestation of the same divine Spirit and calling to be of service to other persons that I originally experienced over 20 years ago. As well as enabling me to develop a unique ministry to myself and my family, professional coaching provides a unique context and opportunity to serve others who (for a variety of reasons) may never choose to personally be influenced or informed by any organized religious community of faith, be it Christian or otherwise. I therefore consider my own diagnosis and treatment for AD/HD as being a unique gift that carries within it both an opportunity and obligation to be of service to others who exist within, and outside of, the Christian Church's current sphere of influence and understanding.

In Driven to Distraction, authors and psychiatrists Edward M. Hallowell and John J. Ratey write:

We particularly like the idea of a coach. This person may also be a therapist, but need not be ... What is an ADD Coach? The person is just what the name implies: an individual standing on the sidelines with a whistle around his or her neck barking out encouragement, directions, and reminders to the player in the game. The coach can be a pain in the neck sometimes, dogging the player to stay alert, in the game, and the coach can be a source of solace when the player feels ready to give up. Mainly, the coach keeps the player focused on the task at hand and offers encouragement along the way. (p. 226)

A great many people in our society will soon benefit from retaining a personal coach for a few months to a few years at a time in order to help master different areas in their personal and business lives. For years, only top corporate executives and CEO's had personal coaches. But like many of today's other technologies, e.g. microwave ovens, personal computers cellular telephones, etc., virtually anyone who wishes to improve their lot in life can now obtain a personal coach through the Coach Referral Services at Coach University and/or the International Coach Federation. Given the potential long-term benefits to individuals and to entire organizations, I truly believe the day is not far off when people in our society will stop asking, "What does a personal coach do?" and begin asking one another, "Who is your personal coach this year?"

I sometimes think about some of the people and former friends whom I've managed to unwittingly "drive out of my life" because of not knowing about my own AD/HD condition. I can even name a few of these individuals! But I don't dwell on past failures for any length of time. These days, I'm much too busy working to become a more effective person, pastor and professional Coach for myself, and others, to spend much time rehearsing the past.

To my surprise and delight, people both in and out of my church and current coaching practice have approached me with stories and symptoms of their own ADD and AD/HD - without any solicitation on my part, whatsoever. Free time is now spent in extra coaching classes and seminars, and being present with loved ones and friends.

I can't really say I enjoy having AD/HD - but knowing about my own condition and learning more about it in myself and in others has given me a brand new dimension to explore wherein life finally begins to make some real sense. My own vision of personal ministry and mission - both as a pastor and as a coach - has also been expanded to include helping others with these kinds of disorders. The future is filled with scores of dreams yet to be focused upon and experienced. But when I finally get to each one of these, I know that they too, will serve to strengthen the personal foundation from which I shall dare to forge ahead with a new sense of inner confidence and courage! And for this I am truly grateful.

The Coaching Gazette is published six times a year to promote personal growth and inform the public about developments and happenings in the realm of professional Coaching. Subscriptions are free to Coaching Clients of the publisher. All information that appears is the property of The Coaching Gazette, and may not be reproduced unless expressly attributed to the publisher. For additional information about Coaching, or to obtain an annual subscription at only $ 2.50 per copy, or 15.00 per year, please contact:

James S. Vuocolo, D. Min., ClergyCoach.

Member, International Coach Federation

Phone\Fax: (909) 794-2136 1227 Via Florence

Redlands, California 92374-3990

Email: netcoach@empirenet.com

Many Different Coaching Resources and Assessment Programs are available:

• GENERAL SYMPTOM CHECKLIST FOR ADULT ADD $5.00
• THE MODIFIED CLEAN-SWEEP PERSONAL ASSESSMENT PROGRAM: A FIRST-STEP TO PERSONAL FULFILLMENT $ 5.00
• THE 25 SECRETS TO HAVING THE LIFE YOU TRULY WANT by Thomas J. Leonard $15.00
• PERSONAL COACHABILITY INDEX $ 1.00
• MANY OTHERS - CALL FOR FREE DETAILS!

This article came out originally in ADDendum Newsletter in the Winter 93 issue:

ADDendum is an excellent quarterly newsletter by and for ADD adults with in- depth articles on the latest in ADD and ADD management. I recommend it highly.

The editor, Paul Jaffe, is a well- informed ADDer who's writings can be found, among other places, in Kathleen Nadeau's new book, A Comprehensive Guide to Attention Deficit Disorder in Adults (to order the book call 1-800-825-3089. In NY call 924-3344)

Order ADDendum by sending $25 to ADDendum c/o CPS 5041A Backlick Road, Annandale, VA 22003 ($25/year for 4 issues)

PASSING FOR NORMAL by Andrea Krapf Little

"Lacking an understanding of their deficits, many ADDers feel compelled to spend inordinate time and energy trying to pass as normal. This is a term we've borrowed from Afro-American history. With a long history of discrimination in this country, it isn't surprising that some lighter- skinned blacks managed their lives by pretending they were white.

"In similar fashion, many of us with ADD can pass as normal (whatever normal means). We work hard at hiding our differences. We can identify with the adults in this chapter who have been somewhat successful in their efforts but who have paid dearly for fitting in.

"We spend our lives in fear, feeling like impostors who will be found out at any moment."

- Kate Kelly and Peggy Ramundo, You Mean I'm Not Lazy, Stupid, or Crazy?!, pages 103-104

-

PASSING FOR NORMAL by Andrea Krapf Little

The sanctuary is peaceful. Organ music fills the air and I watch the little doors that cover the pipes open and close. The congregation stands and I rise, probably the last person to do so. They are singing a hymm and I have no clue as to which one it is. My daughter shoves the hymnal into my hands.

I sing along until I get annoyed with trying to figure out the tune. Then I look over the choir. I watch the mouths, and notice how each is a different shape. Only two members of the choir are not wearing glasses. How many weeks ago was it that they all wore glasses?

The choir sits down and I do too. The minister begins to pray. I bow my head and try to focus on the words. He asks us to pray for people who are in need. I cannot think of anyone who is not in need.

When I raise my head, the minister has already begun the sermon, but with no opening joke this time. I think about the latest joke I've heard and wonder how he could work it into a sermon. I realize I'm staring at the hair of the lady in front of me. She's holding a baby who stares at me with the biggest blue eyes ever. I smile at the baby and she smiles back and then hides her eyes against her mama's shoulder. The smile sends me into a reminiscence about how wonderful it is to hold a baby. I think about the smell and the feel of babies.

The sermon goes on, and I try to catch up. I like the preacher and I want to know what he says; but I've already lost track. My shoe is tight so I slip it off. I rearrange my blouse so the collar doesn't poke me. My thoughts go on like that, counting and admiring the various shades of gray hair in the pews before me, making a mental grocery list, and listening to the humming of the lights and the air conditioner.

The sermon is over and I notice my friends smiling. Later, in the parking lot, they'll ask me how I liked the sermon. Once again, I'll fake it.

I thought that everyone spent Sunday mornings in church like this. My mother was the one who first pointed out the different-shaped mouths in the choir. My daughter was the first to count the glasses on the choir members. My son reported the number of times the minister repeated himself. I assumed that everyone was just like me. It wasn't until I found out about adult attention deficit that I began to wonder about how normal I was.

I have a mirror by the front door so I'll notice if I'm appropriately dressed before I go out. I usually wear casual, comfortable clothes, with a low- maintenance hairstyle, and not much makeup. Luckily, many Southern California stay-at-home moms look like this. When people look at me they see a normal person.

No one knows that my socks and underwear are inside out so the seams don't annoy me. No one can tell that all annoying tags have been clipped off. If I don't wear jewelry or perfume, people assume it was a choice I made; they do not know that I just didn't remember to put any on. If I had a more complicated life that involved high heels and stylish hair and make-up, I'm not certain I would look normal.

When it's necessary to have an important conversation, I use the phone, so I can write down what I have to say and just read it. If I'm to talk to someone face to face, I'll often memorize what to say. Sometimes with my members of my family, I'll write a letter to explain a situation. I find I can communicate better in print than in person -- especially when there are emotions involved. I'm not sure how normal this is. But from the outside it looks normal enough, and I'm able to communicate without much trouble.

When I go to meetings or appointments, I try to arrive early so I don't miss beginnings, explanations or opening statements and put myself at a disadvantage. Arriving early gives me a chance to find my way around, and time to make friends with someone so I won't have to feel alone. Normal people have friends. Armoring myself with friends wherever I go makes me normal too.

When I teach an art lesson at my son's elementary school, or work on a project involving words, pictures or people, I am interested -- and often competent. I am punctual, prepared, and complete my task. I am efficient, organized, talented -- and normal.

When I am with friends, I can carry on an extended conversation. But still I refrain from doing things that might call too much attention to me. I try not to talk loudly, laugh loudly or make too many jokes. In larger groups I'm often quieter. I have trouble keeping track of the subject of the conversation and what is appropriate to say.

When I speak, I see the words printed in my head. I see pictures of what I say. I don't know if this is common. I do know that if I'm not careful, I'll tune in to the pictures or words in my head and lose track of what I'm supposed to be saying.

At other times, some thought will flit through my mind and I'll follow that one instead of the first. This makes my conversations difficult to follow. It's an effort to follow an idea to its conclusion. The people to whom I'm close just accept this as part of the way I am. With new people, I try not to start conversations that I can't complete -- and sometimes don't speak at all. This makes me seem shy or not very bright, but normal.

When trying to listen to people talk, my mind is often racing from one idea to another. Often, I have an idea or what to add to the conversation; and if I don't say it I'll forget it. So, I choose between the risk of 1) forgetting my idea; or 2) hanging on to it -- at the expense of following the conversation. Either way, I often have nothing to say, either because I've forgotten my idea by the time my turn arrives, or because my comment is no longer appropriate. I appear dull, but normal.

Some people who meet me may not like me. My attempts at normality keep me stiff and quiet. If encouraged to talk, I might blurt out something that comes into my mind without considering its appropriateness. Once I relax around people my differences may be threatening. Some quickly back off; others find me colorful and funny. They encourage me to be myself, express my opinions and shine in anyway I want. They don't care if I pass for normal.

Visitors to my house are sometimes surprised. While outside the house I typically appear organized and prepared, inside I'm often neither. But I've stopped apologizing for the mess and the confusion. When you come into my house, I point out the lovely view, and clear the laundry and the books from the sofa so you can sit. I turn off the radio in the living room, but you can still hear it coming from the bedroom.

New friends think they just arrived at a difficult time. They don't realize that that's how I live. Older friends chalk it up to my artistic temperament. They point to the sign that hangs on my wall: "Dull Women Have Immaculate Houses." I'm a poor housekeeper, but normal.

If I offer a guest something to eat, it's usually cold food, already prepared. I learned long ago that if I want good food, it's better to let someone else cook. The dishes I cook either lack an ingredient, or are over- or under-done. When I cook I lose track of what I'm doing, and let the food burn in the pan while I read the mail or walk the dog. Or I get impatient, and don't allow enough time.

These days, I cook only the simplest of meals. Friends smile -- and feel sorry for my family. Yet somehow (to them at least) it makes me more lovable to flounder at something they do easily. I am not a good cook, but normal.

What is normal anyway? I try hard not to be obvious in my differences. I work hard to fit in and yet maintain my uniqueness.

Recently I dreamed I was sleeping in the back seat of a car while it was traveling down the freeway. It was comfy and warm, and I felt secure -- until I "woke" and saw that no one was driving. I was terrified that I'd come so far without a driver.

Why did it take so long to realize I had less control than others did? Why didn't anyone tell me that I was missing things that they were getting? Why did I not notice that other people were being normal without having to try so hard? And so I ask the question yet again.

Can I, do I, pass for normal? I do not know.

ANDREA KRAPF LITTLE is an ADD adult who has recently moved to the Monterey Bay area. She will be starting an ADDult group in the fall and will be continuing with her ADDult coaching and online duties as a host for the ADDults Online and Parents of ADD Kids groups. Annie is the parent of children with ADD, Tourette syndrome and dyslexia.

Attention Deficit Disorder (ADD) has been in the news quite a lot lately. It is what they call a "hot diagnosis". It was once a label reserved for certain hyperactive children. We now know that it can present itself without hyperactivity and persist into adulthood, often unrecognized. We are looking for a way to define it, identify it reliably, and set systems in place to learn to live with it successfully. It may seem as if it is almost over-diagnosed, as often happens when a new disorder comes to media attention. To the people who have to live with it undiagnosed, it is not diagnosed often enough.

I have ADD. I want to share with you the things I have experienced in my personal journey toward sanity, for before diagnosis one feels with certainty that one is crazy.

My own personal moment of truth came at 39, on October 11, 1987. I was absolutely terrified that I was losing my mind. Until this day, my high IQ and level of perceptiveness, paired with the habits developed during a very strict and demanding upbringing helped me to convincingly mask all of the symptoms that could have had led to an earlier diagnosis.

I was a fairly good student. Many people with ADD are not. I channeled my hyperactivity internally -- the only give-aways were the constant foot jiggling and nail tapping, lighting-fast response time, verbal "diarrhea", and the tendency (need, really) to do many things simultaneously. I read while I stretched, studied while I paced, exercised in the shower. My total lack of a sense of time (a minute and an hour *feel* the same to me) was perceived as willfulness or selfishness.

My Herculean efforts at managing went unrewarded. If a particular appointment was essential I learned I could do absolutely NOTHING but watch the clock, completely ready to walk out the door or I stood a good chance of looking up a "minute" later and finding that I had missed it again. "See," my parents argued, "You can be on time when it's something you really want to do. Now why can't you do that all the time?" That was never put to me as a real question. "I don't know," was met with murmers about resistance, or worse, "You just don't want to badly enough." Is that how other people did it? Wanting to? How much was "badly enough?".

Things disappeared and reappeared magically. I was unable to locate any item on a messy desk. "Bring me the scissors on my sewing table" was a task I could never do. I would swear they weren't there. My mind was unable to pick them out from the chaos that surrounded them. "They're right here, what's wrong with you?" was another question nobody but me took seriously. I was always "losing" keys, pens, notebooks, files. I came to believe my brothers were taking things just to bug me. They could always find them. I never could.

I couldn't study in what other people labeled total quiet, nor could I follow a train of thought with background music. "Madelyn is the only teenager I know who doesn't like music." I figured out that the only way I could "get" the information in a lecture or a class was to simultaneously listen, read the teacher's lips, and write down every word. I take verbatim notes. "Don't write, listen!" was a death sentence. I couldn't hear if I couldn't write.

It was a mystery to me why the other students weren't bothered by all the noises that abound in the average school: the conversation outside in the hall, the giggling on the back row, the kids in the playground, the ringing telephone in the teachers lounge. The only way I could drown them out was to sub-vocally repeat every word the teacher said one word behind her, write them down and interact verbally as much as the class would allow. It got me by.

I have trouble with directionality. I was constantly late for classes because I would go the wrong way and have to figure out where I was and how to get back to where I meant to be, no matter how many times I had been there before. "The other students manage to make it to class on time. Why can't you?" I once got a standing ovation for making it to class before the bell rang.

I still can't read a road map very well. My mind can't solve the two dimension to three dimensional leap intact, and all those lines and colors and squiggles make finding where to even start a laboriously long process. When I began dating, no matter how fascinating my escort, I was constantly drawn into the conversations of diners at other tables, distracted by passers by, or unable to contain my enthusiasm for a point of conversation long enough to keep from interrupting. You can imagine the accusations that made me prey to!

My love of cooking became an exercise in frustration. I was a wonderful cook but sometimes I would burn food black looking for an ingredient. "The curry was right on the shelf - where did it go? OK, cinnamon, oregano, parsley, rosemary, thyme -- oh, I have to remember to buy more sage, where did I put that list?"

I never could get the timing right on breakfast. I stopped eating breakfast.

None of these "symptoms" are earth-shattering. The demands of childhood and early adulthood are relatively simple. I developed a reputation for ditziness, chronic lateness, erratic culinary skills and a penchant for eavesdropping, rather than the label of dysfunction. I would probably still be plodding through my life under- achieving without anyone else being aware of it were it not for the publicity about calcium and osteoporosis and my desire to make sure I got enough milk.

Many ADD sufferers notice a worsening of symptoms with some foods. Mine, I now know, is milk. The more I made sure I got my three glasses a day, the "crazier" I got. My Christmas tree stayed up for a year because I just couldn't organize taking it down. "Aah, must be resistance to change." I started missing appointments altogether because I couldn't find my keys to lock my apartment behind me. I became extremely inventive with the excuses I came up with to explain my absences. "Passive aggression?" Once I was house bound for three days. I began to seriously consider agoraphobia as a potential source of my problems.

I was nearly suicidal over my lack of any ability to solve systems problems that everyone else took in stride. "Chronic depression." I spent a small fortune in therapy, blindly accepting any diagnosis that seemed to offer hope of a solution. None of them felt right, but what did I know? I was the crazy one.

The day I discovered the article that changed my life forever I had spent the morning on the telephone with my best friend, a therapist, crying hysterically because my attempt at organizing my office created such chaos that I was left in the middle of the room holding a sheet of paper with literally no clear space to put it down. I had, as I described it, "boggled". Action was impossible. My whole being was on "TILT", to use an old pinball term, and I was desperate enough to tell somebody the truth.

At my friend's suggestion, I took my two little dogs for a walk to try to put some physical distance between myself and my problem. I got distracted and left behind the paper to clean up after them. Out of the trash I picked up some pages from the New York Times Magazine section. Distracted again, I started to read rather than clean. The article was Frank Wolkenberg's "Out of a Darkness."

The tears of recognition began to fall almost immediately. I was openly sobbing when I got to the list of symptoms. "I know what's wrong with me! And there's a drug!" I studied that article as if my life depended on it. I can still recite parts of it verbatim. I took it with me to my therapist the next day, barely intelligible as I blubbered my way through it with her. I began to put my list of symptoms together and bawled with every new discovery. And I began the long process of recovery.

So what is ADD? Sounds like everybody fits into that category. Everybody does. We all have a little bit of "absent minded professor" about us. Any of us can get so absorbed in what we are doing that hours pass like minutes. And who doesn't get lost, burn things, forget appointments and have trouble concentrating sometimes?

An ADD diagnosis is one of degree, and determining where to put that line of demarcation is the subject of heated debate. My personal definition is easy. If it is an ongoing problem for you or for your client, try on the diagnosis and start to utilize a few of the techniques that have been found to work. Keep going as long as it helps.

Getting other people to agree with your self- diagnosis is a long, frustrating process. Well over half of the people in the ADD support group I attend are self-diagnosed. Some have never been able to get a professional to agree with them. All of them find life more manageable through identification of the problem and consistent application of systems to bypass the functions that aren't working correctly. The lucky ones, the ones with symptoms definitive enough to come up with a medical diagnosis, receive pharmaceutical help.

Aye, there's the rub. Ritilin, dexedrine, and Adderall, stimulants often prescribed for ADD, are controlled substances. And the medical profession is justifiably cautious in prescribing controlled substances. To make matters worse for those of us who could benefit from the drug, the "control" of the substance is actual. There are limits to the amount that can be produced annually. Many ADD sufferers on Ritalin face what we call "October panic". Given the increasing popularity of the diagnosis, will the limited drug supply last through the year? Some of us manage to come across a trial supply of a drug and now can't get the official prescription. Some of us never even get to try medication.

Some of us are put through a "phased drug trial" by well meaning and poorly informed physicians that sometimes starts with anti-anxiety medication (Librium, Xanax, Elavil, Ativan -- not particulary effective with ADD), moves through anti-depressives (Norpramin, Tofranil, Wellbutrin, Prozak, Zoloft, Paxil, etc.), and stops at the lessening of symptoms that the prescribing physician deems adequate. As one ADDer wrote in an article, "The State Board of Pharmacy keeps a close watch on doctors who prescribe Ritalin and Dexedrine to adults -- and ass covering is the sport of the '90s." Sadly, optimal functioning is a goal that resides solely with the individual sufferer in far too many cases.

The good news is that there is much you can do to improve your life without medication at all, and there is a positive, measurable correlation between the degree to which you are willing to take responsibility for your own well-being and other successes in life. There are increasingly wider support systems available outside the conventional medical establishment, and more and more doctors are becoming ADD aware.

In ADD support groups we learn that our symptoms are not unique and that others have found ways of coping with them. Many of us learn to recognize the advantages ADD gives us. Nobody sneaks up on me in the street. Very little escapes my observation. There is an attendant ability to hyper-focus once the distractibility is handled that gives me an edge in a competitive world. My mind is greased lightning. I have become a champion organizer. I have periods of boundless energy. I am a very creative problem solver. My sense of empathy is legion.

I know in my bones that solutions are individual and that what is growth inducing for one person could be contra- indicated in another, no matter how many other people embrace it. I have developed a keen listening for the clues that tell me when a client is agreeing to some solution rather than the right one for her and I am very slow to label anything mere resistance.

Is there a valid role a coach could have played in my process and can play in the process for other people? Absolutely. It might be slightly different from the way that coach might work with a client without the disorder. A coach who doesn't understand ADD might find herself oddly annoyed at some of the peculiarities of the client with ADD, and find herself asking that question that's really an indictment, "My other clients manage to . . . why can't she?" But in the same way you would never expect the color blind client to sort socks the same way other people do, there are predictable behaviors that are going to be problems for the person with ADD. The standards may have to be different for some areas. Not lower (remember the socks); different.

The coaching challenge is to develop solutions together without making the client feel disabled and disempowered in the process. We have had a lifetime of negative comments and are hypersensitive to them, responding best to unmitigated positive reinforcement. We are much too hard on ourselves. We don't need that from a coach. The best coaches know this instinctively.

The rewards for working with a coach are many, for both client and coach. The unusually rapid strides these clients can make when you identify the problem and come up with some solutions, and their excitement and gratitude when they are finally able to be on time, navigate their world without wasted hours of backtracking, or make a relationship work by changing some basic patterns of communication, are as much fun as being there when a child rides a bicycle for the first time. The feeling of making a difference in somebody's life is palpable. From the client side, having a committed listener and a structured time to work on ADD issues in a non-judgmental arena becomes the model for a new way of relating to the world. Life gets measurably better week by week. Some go on to become coaches to others.

As Frank Walkenberg notes in his article, "'The personality develops around this disability.' Undoing the damage of a lifetime is work for a psychotherapist." And a coach, I would add. Just don't confuse the two. All rights reserved © Madelyn Griffith-Haynie, 1994

MADELYN GRIFFITH-HAYNIE is an ADD Coach who had been living in New York City at the time of this article, but who has since relocated to Knoxville, TN. She is on the trainer team and advisory board of Coach U. and leads teleclasses and workshops through Optimal Functioning, a company dedicated to helping ADDults develop systems to reach their goals and live their dreams. She is listed with the American Coaching Association (formerly NCN) and can be reached online as support@addcoach.com.