John and Abby: Solving the "Problem with No Name"

This July 4, my husband and I celebrated our 12th anniversary.  Compared to couples married 30, 40 or even the 50 years of my parents' marriage, 12 years is hardly remarkable unless you figure in unrecognized ADHD.

     As I joked to my friends on Facebook: "We can credit the fact that we're still married—and happily so—to equal parts brutal honesty, teeth-gnashing, affection, shared interests, sense of humor, and inertia."  

     Mostly, though, we can credit keen ADHD awareness. To see our wedding photo and read my interview with a reporter from Health.com, click here. (Notice in the photo that I am clearly in the dripline of the double-umbrella my new husband is holding; let's just say that is rather symbolic of the early days of our marriage, when his ADHD was flying well beneath the radar screen yet still having an impact.)

     In many ways, we are like the couple whose story I share below, John and Abby, excerpted from Is It You, Me, or Adult A.D.D.?:

Thirty years ago, at age 13, John set his sights on becoming a computer scientist. Despite almost flunking out of high school, he went on to earn his doctorate. It required Herculean effort, though, and tanks of ulcer-inducing coffee, not to mention a tunnel-vision focus that eclipsed a social life and other healthy habits. [Note: That's a caffeine IV in the illustration at left.]

      Sure, John noticed that other students, many less intelligent than he, didn’t suffer concentration problems like his. But he thought it was just his nature, something unchangeable. Upon finally leaving academia’s structure for the business environment, John found himself constantly on the outs with managers for missed deadlines, miscommunications, and an uncooperative attitude.   
      “So here is this wonderful, smart guy who has worked so hard to achieve his goal telling himself he’s a failure,” says his wife, Abby. “And his disappointed anger about it, along with his workaholic tendencies, was wrecking our marriage.”
      But ADHD? Not one of the therapists, doctors, or executive coaches they saw mentioned it. They opined that John had “personality problems” or was narcissistic, but they offered no lasting remedies.

      Meanwhile, Abby was increasingly finding her own ability to think clearly—and her joy in life—diminished. “John’s erratic and contradictory behaviors, not to mention our garbled communications, had me in a spin,” she remembers. “Was this what it meant to live with a ‘gifted’ person? If so, could I survive it? Could he survive his adrenaline-driven behaviors and lousy lifestyle habits? He definitely seemed on the fast track to a heart attack.”
      Yes, some observers might have focused on John’s high intelligence and viewed his troubling behaviors as the obligatory price for it. His therapist encouraged him to “follow his bliss”—drop out of the rat race and go live in a van. “But that therapist had no clue that living in a van was not his bliss!” Abby protests. “John was depressed because he was on probation at work. We were separated at the time and heading toward divorce. I looked John in the eye and said, ‘Is that what you really want, because if it is, go for it, buddy. Or is it that you see no other options?’ He just hung his head and nodded yes to the latter.”

      A few days before that, Abby had heard a radio show on adult ADHD. It hit home. John’s professional ADHD evaluation the next week proved her instincts right. Fortunately, identifying his challenges as being ADHD-related and seeking treatment meant he wasn’t forced to abandon the work he loved, which required cooperating and communicating with people, or, as it turns out, his marriage. He could have his computer code and work well with others, too. 
       These days, John is more innovative, not less, and his career opportunities have expanded. New efficiency, thanks to fewer mistakes on the job, means he has more time (and inclination) to exercise. Plus, he no longer self-medicates with coffee, junk food, and video games, all of which used to send his brain chemicals (and moods) reeling on the wild roller coaster.

Here's an excerpt from John's essay in the book:

Before medication, I always found my work highly stimulating, so that was my impetus to achieve and focus. That and money—lots of it. (As a kid, I’d coveted James Bond’s lifestyle, complete with all the cool gadgets, and set my mind to achieving it.)  

      I could always come up with great ideas or wow a conference crowd with my presentations. The rest of the time, though, I was too much like Sluggo the Wonder Boy.

      The fact of the matter is, no matter how stimulating one’s work is, it’s not stimulating all of the time. And yet, to be successful in your work and in your personal life, you do need to focus most of the time.  

      At work, I’m now better able to program software because I’m more patient and therefore less likely to make mistakes or take shortcuts that I’ll regret later. My judgment has improved in evaluating my ideas to see if they’re actually worth pursuing or just an old habit of revving up brain stimulation. 

      I’m much better at stopping to evaluate progress, determining if I’m on track with my goal rather than charging straight ahead with a flawed idea—and getting angry with anyone who tries to convince me to reconsider.  

      So yes, work is going better and more enjoyable. But have I suddenly become a cheerful “people person”? Let’s not go that far. Let’s just say that medication has restrained my desire to throttle people who oppose my “grand designs.” I do get along better with more coworkers, not solely the ones I find super smart. In fact, I’m now better able to consider their ideas before I tell them, “That’s the stupidest thing I ever heard” or “Where did you go to graduate school again?”  Did I mention my sense of humor has improved?

For her part, Abby has this to say: 

Most important in my eyes, John is finally content and has strong self-esteem instead of obnoxious grandiosity, and I’m glad that we’re married, after several hellish years of seriously questioning my sanity for sticking it out. 
      Prior to learning about ADHD, sometimes he could be incredibly selfish and insensitive. I was realistic enough to know that if I stayed with him without anything changing, my life would quickly keep going downhill financially, psychologically, and in every other way. I was prepared to get out and save myself. 
      But, strangely enough, I never felt that the behavior, however hurtful, reflected his true nature. Initially, this perception alarmed me; I worried that I’d grown delusional, seeing things I wanted to see rather than reality. Eventually, though, it just seemed that anyone with heart and intelligence could see that even when he was acting like a Grade- A jerk, something was “off.”
      We persevered through many non-ADHD-savvy psychiatrists and therapists. It was a nightmare in many ways, but the effort has brought us closer in some odd way that, for example, fun vacations and easy times wouldn’t have. 
       Now I just want to revisit their offices and say, “See! The problem wasn’t me being ‘controlling’ and ‘codependent’ or his ‘difficult personality.’ It was ADHD. He has changed, and we’re happy, so dammit, wake up, do your job, read the literature, and learn about this!” 
       As for those people who don’t believe that ADHD is a valid condition and criticize its diagnosis and treatment, my husband and I can’t fathom it. Why on earth would they want to deprive others of this choice to feel better and do better in life? Would they take away someone’s eyeglasses and scold him to simply try harder to see? It has to be their fear talking. That’s all. Fear of new ideas. And ignorance. 

There are many variation on the story of John and Abby. ADHD affects all genders and all ages. Their story, and my own, are just two variations on the many ways in which ADHD can affect relationships and the many ways in which education and addressing ADHD challenges can make a difference. 
      No, troubled relationships don't always boil down to unrecognized ADHD. Moreover, ADHD doesn't always challenge a relationship.  But when ADHD symptoms are present and challenging, it's a good starting point.  Once ADHD is understood and addressed, then you can better focus on other garden-variety issues that can disrupt domestic bliss.
      I invite you to share your own perspective and experiences in a comment -- and please share this blog with anyone who might find it helpful. The handy "share" device below makes it easy to post this column to your FB friends, tweet it, and so forth!


Gina