DISTRACTED FROM THE SIDE
by Janine Baker

I used to be late quite often. I'd lend money that I really didn't have. Sometimes, in an effort to finish a task, I got so sleepy I couldn't even see. I know what it is to spend six hours in a grocery store. No, I do not have ADD. My best friend does.

For eight years we didn't know what was wrong. But we both knew that she seemed unable to run her own life. I got about five hours of sleep a night trying to run her life along with my own.

"Try therapy," I said, convinced it was all the result of unresolved conflicts. Therapy did help. She worked through a lot of stuff and ended up having a lot more choices. Oh goody. An undiagnosed ADDer with more choices. I was now getting about THREE hours of sleep.

Unfortunately, I was never the kind of person who'd think to teach anyone else to fish. "Look," I'd rather say, "I'll come over every night with fresh catch, cook it for you and leave a nice seafood casserole for lunch." Being co-dependent is NOT a good thing with an ADDer. If you "help" in that way, eventually you will die from lack of sleep or become so completely controlling no one will be able to stand you.

Life with an ADD best friend is never dull. Once we decided to make upscale children's pinafores to sell at the local flea market. (I know, I know. It seemed like a good idea at the time.) We started by shopping for remnant lace. We spent five and a half hours in one store looking at remnant lace. A security guard did nothing that afternoon except watch us look at remnant lace. Unable to decide, she bought $118.00 worth of remnant lace.

We chose white muslin sheeting for the basic apron. A discounted king size sheet comes in dimensions of 66x118". After drafting a cutting/measurement plan that rivaled any blueprint designed by NASA, she determined the optimal cutting pattern. She did the math. Each pinafore could sell for $35.00 and net us a $30 profit.

We worked non-stop for a month. I managed to sneak in two hours of sleep a night. My friend, who I'd secretly diagnosed as manic/depressive, resented that she had to sleep at all. I did the math. Figuring in our time, each pinafore needed to sell for $225.00 for us to break even.

Yet I kept going. Was this MY dysfunction? My psychiatrist says yes. But the jubilant, electric charge was contagious. We laughed, worked and talked, both of us high on HER adrenaline.

The day she discovered that she suffered from ADD life changed. Suddenly there were reasons -- explanations for why she marched not only to a different drummer, but to an entirely different melody. I used to think I really knew what was best for her. If she'd just do things my way she could get control of her life! But I've learned that the ADDer does not see or hear the same reality I do. In fact, no one does, and in that we are all islands. But with our loved ones we can be a federation of allied islands, learning to share experiences.

Watching (and sometimes helping) her develop systems to handle her ADD has been inspiring. It is not our RESPONSIBILITY to share the challenges of our friends. It is our privilege.

JANINE BAKER is a writer/performer living in New York City. She submitted this article on a legal pad. Janine will write articles for anyone willing to work in this format. She can only be reached by snail mail.