Is my brain chasing my body? Or is my body chasing my brain?
At forty, I was told I had dyslexia. And last year—at the age of fifty-two—I finally realized I also have ADHD.
Crazy, huh?
Blissfully unaware… I guess.
I grew up in an era where these things just weren’t diagnosed. But deep down, I always knew. I knew I was different. I knew something was off—I just couldn’t put my finger on it.
And you know what? It’s okay. It hasn’t really set me apart from anyone else—at least, I don’t think so.
Everyone’s got problems. Mine are just shaped differently.
So how does it feel to be ADHD?
It feels like my body can’t catch up with my brain. Like a race that’s never won, never lost, and never ends.
The best way I can explain it is with coffee.
If I drink a cup, my body speeds up. And sometimes—magically—I relax. It’s like the coffee syncs up my body with my brain. Suddenly, everything lines up and I can just breathe.
But too much coffee? Total chaos. My leg starts shaking, my whole system feels jittery.
Most of the time, my brain is out front—ten steps ahead—leaving my body scrambling to catch up.
Carrying on a conversation can be nuts. Especially if it’s something I don’t care about. One second I’m listening. The next? I’m gone. Then I snap back. And then I drift off again.
When I lose interest, I scatter—grabbing little bits and pieces, just enough to keep up with the topic. All while my brain’s already racing ahead, piecing together details before the other person even finishes their story.
I bet it’s funny to watch. I can only imagine what people think:
“This dude is f**’ing nuts!”*
But here’s the thing—I don’t care.
It’s okay.
Most days, I’m just searching for freedom. For peace from it all.
A way to relax.
A way to simply be.
Maybe peace isn’t about stopping the race—it’s about finding the rhythm.
