About two years ago, I was diagnosed with ADHD, which made a lot of sense. My ADHD manifests itself in being very fidgety, losing and forgetting things, being hyperfocused and fixated on things that interest me, not being focused on things that I find tedious or time-consuming, and simply being extremely impulsive in my decision-making. I’ve been having these symptoms my whole life.
Around that time, I seemed to figure out how to self-regulate and manage my energy levels throughout the day. I used to be the kind of person who ran on a few hours of sleep and tried to just power through the day with as much effort as possible.
I started to get seven to nine hours of sleep a night and sleep during the day if I could if I didn’t sleep well. I started to be a lot more flexible and responsive to my energy levels, how I felt, and I responded to the conditions on the ground rather than having a rigid idea of what exactly I had to get done on a given day.
I spent a long time trying to figure out how to manage my ADHD symptoms, with a lot of trial and error.
Now, I think I’ve finally found it.
Structure versus flexibility
I used to experiment with the Pomodoro Technique, which is a time management method of working in time blocks of usually 25 minutes, followed by a break. It seemed to work magic — for about two or three hours. I would get a ton done by setting a timer for 25 minutes on one task, being super focused, taking a short break, and then being super focused on something else.
Sometimes I would alter the time increments to 10 or 15 minutes for more menial tasks. The Pomodoro Technique seemed to work magic for doing many tasks I needed to get done but didn’t want to do. If I didn’t want to do the dishes, I would set a timer for 10 minutes to do them and then come back later.
However, this seemed to be like magic for two or three hours, but I would feel completely burned out and dysregulated later. I would feel like my mind was running and racing too fast. I wouldn’t be able to get anything done after hours of using the Pomodoro Technique. Plus, the constant switching from task to task was a form of context switching that killed my creativity and eliminated my ability to get into a “flow” state.
The Pomodoro Technique may have worked well for other people, but it did not work very well for me.
I started to be more responsive and careful about how I directed my energy. That responsiveness and regulation of my energy was guided by a mantra in my head that was guided by my experience as a cross-country runner. I would tell myself “don’t surge — this is where you’re supposed to be” throughout the day because, left to my own impulses and devices, I would make a lot of super unnecessary expenditures of energy that cost me at the end of a race.
I started to apply this mantra to my own life, and I would go through life like a normal human being. I would have regular ups and downs in my emotional state, but I would be incredibly responsive to real-life conditions and consequences. If there were a ton of consequences of failure to submit a report by X or Y deadline, then I would be extremely focused an hour before the deadline. If I wasn’t getting anything done and felt super drained, I started to stop and take a break. I reminded myself I was always where I was supposed to be, and I could always content myself with self-acceptance.
I tried a medication that was prescribed to me, Strattera, an NSRI (Norepinephrine Selective Reuptake Inhibitor).
I was on it for about three months and experiencing symptoms of constant nausea and GI issues. I spoke with my provider and talked about stopping the medication, and she approved (please do not stop taking any medication without consulting your physician first). I felt like I was pathologizing too much of who I’ve been all my life, and I wasn’t doing that bad before the medication, so I went back to embracing and accepting myself rather than pathologizing myself.
For the past several years, I leaned into and tapped into all these symptoms rather than denying these symptoms. This always seemed to work out. I wouldn’t be the absolute best at what I did, but I would somehow conjure an almost superhuman effort to get something done by a deadline or respond to an urgent situation or crisis at work.
I seemed to have this ability to thrive under pressure. I seemed to have the ability to suddenly conjure this monster, this clutch performance when it really mattered. I would get into these flow states where I was in the zone and it felt like nothing could distract me or nothing could stop me — I just had to wait for my mind to naturally focus when it mattered.
The need to change
But this past several months, I was tired of just responding. In my marathon running career, suddenly trusting where I was supposed to be wasn’t working out anymore. I was incredibly responsive to how I felt. But I had a full-time job. I had law school at night. It was reasonable that I would go day to day just surviving and getting through the day. I was putting a lot of pressure on myself to be the best at everything I did, and maybe I couldn’t be the best in these circumstances, right?
No — I got greedy. I realized I am a highly motivated and ambitious person and I still did want to maximize my potential at work, in law school, as a runner, and in my household responsibilities. No, not everything is about completing tasks and achieving goals, but I did have to admit that being able to get things off my plate gave me more satisfaction and time in my relationships and other essential parts of my life. Plus, I know that my mind enjoys the thrill of being under pressure and crisis-like situations, but I had to admit that just responding to urgent situation after urgent situation was probably not the most relaxing way to live my life.
Instead, I wanted to go into situations with super thorough preparation. I had to realize that my approach with no discipline and maximal flexibility wasn’t going to cut it if I wanted to thrive and not survive and react to crisis after crisis.
Experimenting with a mix of structure and flexibility
One thing I started to work on was all-or-nothing thinking. The approaches I took to daily life and task completion were either all rigidity (Pomodoro Technique) or all flexibility ( my mantra of “don’t surge — this is where you’re supposed to be.”)
I started to experiment with changing things up. And at first, when I started experimenting, it was scary. I had to accept that new strategies and tactics could go horribly wrong. I was an above-average runner. I was an above-average law student. I am considered by most to be really good at my job — but I wasn’t considered the best. I had to accept that I could fail and any new strategies could compromise my perpetual above-average-ness.
Above all, I feared I would compromise my ability to activate flow states in critically urgent and important moments, that by changing up my routines and “go with the flow” embrace of my impulsiveness, I could lose the ability to hyperfocus when it mattered. I could lose the ability to be super attentive and creative in important meetings. I could lose the ability to perform at my absolute best during critical races. I could lose my ability to thrive under pressure.
I understand now that much of that fear was in my head, but I had to acknowledge rather than deny the feeling nonetheless. For example, I could become an A+ law student from a B+ law student. But I could also regress to a C student by being overly ambitious and burning myself out.
But I was willing to take the risk to jump to the next level and, honestly, because although it was working out, there could be a better way.
The first thing I did was try to use the Pomodoro Technique again. But I was very careful. I knew I needed more structure and rigidity, but I didn’t want to swing so far in the direction of rigidity that I lost the flexibility and responsiveness that had made me a much more emotionally healthy person over the past couple of years.
And so I would do certain tasks for 10 to 20 minutes and then move on to something else, but I would give myself certain stipulations. First, I wouldn’t limit myself to 10 to 20 minutes. If I loved what I was doing and was in a complete flow state doing something productive, like studying my law cases, writing, doing housework, or running, then I wasn’t going to stop. If I was close to the end and almost done, I would also almost never stop.
Being close to the finish line would activate the flow state more often than not. Often, I would put in 20 to 25-minute time blocks for a super tedious project I did not enjoy. It would be a very huge chore to get myself through the task, and the Pomodoro Technique was a means of forcing myself to do tasks I did not want to do. I accepted that in the real world, we do have to do tons of tasks we don’t want to do.
Sometimes, however, starting was sometimes the hardest part. There certainly are many tasks, projects, and assignments where I spend the whole 20 minutes of my time block devoted to that project hating my life. However, I would say that about half of my “undesirable” tasks, whether it was laundry, dishes, writing a super tedious report, or reading a law school case were only difficult for the first five minutes or so. The task initiation was the most difficult part. For many of these tasks, if I could just will myself to persevere through this five minute time span, I could get through the task. I would then give myself an extension of five to ten minutes on a 20 minute time block if I was super in the zone.
Once I was close to the end of the task, too, I could work for two or three hours, and it felt great to be accomplished and so close to the finish line. The completion of a major task would be a source of momentum that could motivate and propel me through a good amount of the rest of the day.
I could also turn off the need to time block 20 to 30 minute increments when I was in class for three hours, on a 20 mile run, or sitting through or facilitating hour to two-hour-long meetings. Time blocking for a lot of undesirable tasks was a means of giving a short burst of effort and energy.
I did know, however, that there were times when the amount of energy and concentration needed to be longer and sustained. I worried that I would lose this ability to concentrate for a long time now that I put more structure, systems, and rigidity in my daily routine, but I found I could still turn on the switch to thrive under pressure when I needed to, when I subconsciously sensed something needed to be a priority. If I was at a social event or hanging out with friends, I discarded the need to time block or structure my time wholeheartedly. If I was at dinner with my wife, I wasn’t checking my watch to see how much time had passed either.
I also relied on time-blocking to safeguard my mental health and to devote time to play. If I felt that state of emotional dysregulation from pushing myself too hard, I would time block 30 minutes or so for a break. I would watch a mindless TV show, put on a football game, or take time to play a mobile game. Other times, I would take time away from the screen.
I would make sure these times of play where I would get sucked into checking social media or playing a mobile game would be time blocked to stop me from getting too sucked in. I found I would often nitpick at the conditions if I got too caught up in mobile games, for example. I would say “just five more minutes” only to give myself another five minute extension five or six more times. I started to realize how important it was for me to set limits on tasks where I could very easily lose control, like video games.
When it was time to go to sleep, I found myself still full of energy and restless when I needed to wake up eight or eight and a half hours later. I would time block about 15 minutes to read a book or novel before bed and otherwise stay away from screens. I was shocked to find how quickly my energy level could go from “I’m wide awake” to “I’m about to sleep forever” in a ten minute span of reading a book.
The results
This time blocking, mixed with the flexibility of regulating my energy and adapting to whoever was in the room or whatever situation I was in seemed to be the right mix of rigidity and flexibility. It did feel uncomfortable to put myself in a lot more uncomfortable situations of doing things I didn’t want to do.
If I was ever in a situation where I was bored, unmotivated, and tired, and I still needed to press forward to hit my daily goals, I would often try to time block 10 minutes or so to listen to a podcast or listen to music. I would put in some mental checkpoints along the way. This would often be the case if I were running alone and getting through the run would feel like a Herculean task.
I knew that beginning the run was the hardest — finishing was easy, both mentally and physically. I timeblocked the first 20–25 minutes of my run to not worry about pace and ease myself into the run. During these first 20–25 minutes, I would not worry about pace, and would just take those first two to three miles to get my legs warmed up. If I could get through the first 20–25 minutes, more often than not, the whole rest of the run would be a breeze.
I started to also be significantly more well-prepared with law school notes and readings. I found myself procrastinating around fewer deadlines and just being a lot more on top of work-related tasks and organization rather than just scrambling all the time. I found myself getting to projects that needed to get done, but were always a secondary priority, including filing documents in a physical file rather than electronic files.
I was still unsure of whether this was the best path forward — until I saw the results. Most days, I had no problem anymore getting eight to nine hours of sleep. In the past three years, I certainly made it a mission to get that much sleep. But I would fail in certain ways. I would stay up because I wasn’t tired, try to go to bed early and toss and turn for hours, or wake up suddenly at 2 or 3 a.m. and not be able to go back to bed. I tried to find solutions for these sleep problems, but I ultimately accepted my fate that I could just go to sleep when tired and stay awake when not tired.
Mixing in tasks of things I didn’t want to do, including reading a boring book before bed, would assist greatly in my ability to go to bed on time. I would still, sometimes, wake up suddenly in the middle of the night, but I would spend 20 minutes doing one undesirable task, 20 minutes doing another, and move onto another. This would put me back in a fatigued and exhausted state, so even if I couldn’t get nine hours of sleep, I could suffice with seven and a half.
It wasn’t like I would never have huge periods of emotional darkness and hopelessness throughout the day. I accepted that these are normal, and that no one is absolutely happy and satisfied all the time. During these times, I would have to redirect my attention to something that would cheer me up, if I could. Sometimes this would be a long nap if I had the time. Sometimes I was just hungry and hadn’t eaten in a long time, or just needed some water. Sometimes I needed a break.
Other times, there was nothing I could do. There was a very good reason why I was not in the best mood. I could have just been yelled at by a parent, gotten not the best feedback in another area of life, had a disagreement with my wife. I remember one time I was dismayed for hours because a bunch of my peers were talking about a party that seemed really fun and where I wasn’t invited. I felt like I was getting upset about something incredibly frivolous, that I was way too old and mature to get the fear of missing out (FOMO) like I was in middle school.
However, if I felt it, I felt it. I wouldn’t wallow in negative emotions, but I would understand the feelings were natural and that I just needed to feel them, and perhaps I would need to direct my attention to other things. It wasn’t because I was trying to force myself out of a negative emotional state — which is something I’ve tried in the past to little avail. It was that I just needed time to get through that particular feeling and sometimes, time blocking 20 to 30 minutes on different priorities would help the time pass by more quickly.
I started to be even more accepting of my symptoms and condition, and I also saw results because I was significantly more prepared in all areas of my life. This past semester of law school, I achieved my best grades in law school all while holding down my full-time, very draining job. I achieved all A’s and got the highest grade in the class in one of my classes.
I went into every class having a good idea of what every case was about and was more prepared than I ever had been because I had spent all this time reading boring cases and taking copious amounts of them. I hadn’t necessarily wanted to, but I did rely on a system of spending 10 minutes on one case, 10 minutes on another, 10 minutes on another. Reading case law wasn’t my favorite thing to do in the world, but it helped me be super prepared for every class and my final exam.
Takeaways
In short, I developed a system to manage my ADHD to optimize my mental health and my productivity. I would often start a task by blocking a certain amount of time, whether it was 10 or 20 minutes. If I loved it, I would make judgment calls to continue or not continue. If I didn’t continue, I would move on to something else.
I found that I wasn’t going from zero to 100% progress in most projects and tasks — instead, I was gradually putting more and more dents until I was close to the finish line, where the task would almost finish itself. It was almost as if there were a certain activation energy and barrier of a certain amount of time and effort I needed to put into a task before it could feel completely natural and I could be completely in the zone. This system would allow my impulsiveness or hyperfocus to take over when it felt appropriate.
In all situations, I allowed my gut, judgment, and discernment decide whether to stay on a particular task for just 10 minutes or stay focused on it for hours. This system has helped me set better boundaries with myself and get better sleep. It allowed me to be proactive rather than reactive to crises.
That isn’t to say it’s been all good. Initially, I was making more careless mistakes in my work. I corrected this by time blocking time to edit, look my work over prior to hitting “send” or “submit.” For especially important work, I would do this several times instead of giving in to my impulses to hit “send” right away.
Because I was jumping from task to task more often, my mind could become a lot more scattered since I was so focused on the task at hand. I would find myself losing keys, my phone, and my wallet even more often than usual. On one occasion, I lost my car key on a run and had to pay a locksmith almost $500 to replace the key. As for this drawback, I’m trying to reinforce a system, again, of where exactly essential items need to go so I don’t need to retrace my steps — phone in the right pocket, wallet and keys in the left, hair brush, registration, and insurance all in my car glove box.
As James Clear said, “you do not rise to the level of your goals. You fall to the level of your systems.”
I had to quickly think the worst of myself and assume that I was at my most forgetful, most scattered, and least motivated on any given day and time. Of course, this was not always true and I could rise to the level of my goals in periods of hyperfocus and high levels of motivation.
But it was the times I wasn’t motivated and wasn’t at my best when I could do better and be more disciplined, where I couldn’t always rely on my innate ability to just step up when it counted. In these time periods, I wasn’t going to conquer the world. But I could make a small dent and build momentum for the next day or come back to the important task I needed to get done an hour later.
This mattered a lot more than I would have liked to admit. Just by getting a start, whether it was by writing a title to an article, starting the Word document on a report, folding three articles of clothing, or washing maybe 1/10 of the dishes, I got past a major mental barrier for the next time I gave the task another go. Breaking these mental barriers would be a major improvement from where I was before. Suddenly, the impossible seemed slightly more possible. I put in a dent and was one step closer to the right direction, and the task would seem a lot more attainable later.
When I couldn’t put in these dents and small periods of work, I needed to forgive myself and just realize it wasn’t the right time. My mental health, sleep, and other needs were more important.
But I found that I was still the same person — impulsive, unable to initiate and engage in tedious tasks, hyper-fixating on interesting tasks, and forgetful. The solution was not to eliminate those symptoms as I previously expected, but to find better ways to manage those symptoms.
It’s certainly not perfect, but I think I’m in a much better place than I was three months ago — and it taught me that experimenting with new approaches to life can work out or backfire, but daring greatly to be better and healthier is what counts.
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This post was previously published on MEDIUM.COM.
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