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Race Track Thinking 

I didn't choose an ADHD brain. At times a random whispered thought, barely connected, pops in uninvited, insistent to be acknowledged and immediately included in my conversation… 

Most of the time it's a detour, with minimal disruption. Thoughts drift, barely nudges the adjacent car, and our cars wobble… we stay on course… on topic… a tweak of adrenaline seeps through… Many of my family and friends are used to these and take it in stride. 

Sometimes, my thoughts feel hijacked, and I find myself at a race track racing side by side… my thoughts linked to the original topic sometimes are like tenuous wisps of smoke, can be seen, yet not grasped.

They're moments of confusion… for everyone. The smooth glide of the conversation hits a temporary jostle… the conversation's back on course. Whew, a possible disaster averted… No harm no foul… much… It's undeniable and can't be overlooked by anyone, especially me. Many times I'll “joke” about a brain fart. It's not a joke, it's distressing and embarrassing. 

Yet… I know I'm responsible… and sometimes I'm completely at a loss what to do, much less, how to prevent it.

There are times, the urgency intensifies… a random thought's magnetic pull, strengthens… An internal fight ensues… my wheels take a turn… seemingly as if I'm no longer the only one driving. Onlookers witness a spectacular verbal crash worthy of a NASCAR race… everyone walks away… bruised, sore, limping… the conversation is in shambles. Others shake their heads… I'm confused and questioning, how in the hell did I get here? What are the consequences I'm responsible for? 

Or... Instead the battle for control is so fierce, I no longer have any control of the steering wheel. Everyone… especially myself, other adjacent drivers, and onlookers watch in horror as the cars burst into flame… horrifically sometimes… someone doesn't walk away. What the  do I do with this? 

Knowing what I want to say or how to act, and that my brain at best won't cooperate, at worst a betrayal - it isn't a state anyone would knowingly choose. 

Regardless, I'm totally responsible for the consequences. Is this the brain you'd choose?

I could feel sorry for myself and indulge in a pity party (I've done that far too often and far too long)… or put on my big girl panties and forge on, muttering under my breath… bummer heavy sigh…

Sherry Emma-Pederson Barton 
February 22, 2025
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