I don’t like to think of myself as being highly susceptible to reverse psychology, but when it comes to my inner manipulator, I’m a real patsy. This is no more apparent than with the effect “to-do” lists have on me.
Not so much the list in and of itself, but the way in which my brain responds to the compound word “to-do” at the top of the page, which registers with me as a directive, and so deep within my subconscious, the sheet of paper itself is seen as a finger-wagging authority figure. If you’re a parent like me, you can appreciate how young children don’t respond that well to you as a finger-wagging authority figure, which is to say it drives them to open rebellion. From my own experience, when playing the heavy doesn’t work, you need to find some way to appeal to your child’s motivations, such as offering a reward for improved behavior or completed chores, or gamifying the tasks at hand they refuse to do. (Even that doesn’t always work, but that’s a topic for another day.)
As someone with ADHD Inattentive Type, I’m painfully aware of my executive functioning impairment, particularly in the areas of time management, staying on task, and attention to detail. Although these are grown-up skills or traits, having a deficit in this area does not make one childlike in any way, but rather leaves afflicted grown-ups feeling like they have to furiously paddle against the rapids to get where they need to be (i.e. accomplishing basic day-to-day tasks), particularly while other grown-ups seem to be effortlessly coasting by, as if riding with the rapids, all while hoisting their paddles in the air, and cheering as if they’re on an awesome roller coaster. Meanwhile, once they’re at the finish line, clinking Corona bottles and cooking hamburgers on a grill, I’m still way back, paddling for my life, but apparently not making much headway.
(That’s what it sounds like when my sense of frustration starts to editorialize. If nothing else, it has an active imagination.)
Part of the way I cope with (or compensate for) said impairment of executive functioning skills is to make a list, and surrender myself to it as if it were my master. Typically, I list absolutely everything I can think of that needs to be done, and then start with the easiest items first, in order to establish momentum, and then let the sight of red Sharpie lines of crossed-off items serve as motivation keep moving forward with the harder items. Whatever items remain will in turn form a starting point for the next day’s list.
This is utterly fantastic when it works, except that it doesn’t always turn out that way.
In fact, sometimes I can feel myself running out of steam just writing those two wretched syllables, “to-do”. And so while I’m not childlike per se for having such a struggle in this area, it acts as an obstacle to basic adulting, and may call for a solution that amounts to treating my executive functioning impairment as if it were a childlike instinct, and thus doing an end-run around my inner manipulator. In short, I’m now experimenting with a new way of approaching the necessity of lists that takes my kind of brain into account, focusing as it does on motivations rather than directives (and implied consequences), and in a way that resonates with those pastimes that often drive me to unnecessary distraction.
And when it comes to go-to distractions, I can always count on futzing with either my primary computer (a Unix box running the current version of FreeBSD), or, even worse, with my secondary computer, an aged laptop that runs whatever weird or antique operating system is fascinating me at any given moment.
And so earlier this week I had an ‘Ah hah!’ moment in which it occurred to me that maybe I should treat my accumulated tasks and deadlines collectively as if they comprise a computer operating system to be hacked and upgraded on a daily basis.
Upgrade.
The word hung in the air all around me, as if it were there all along. Why hadn’t I noticed it before now?
Soon I opened up a steno book, and at the top of the page simply wrote, “Upgrades”, and underlined the word. Below that, I created a double-spaced list of things I needed to do. Underneath each numbered item, I jotted down what I perceived as the benefit(s) that would come with finishing each respective task. These benefits included (but weren’t limited to): easing a certain financial burden, improving a certain professional relationship, making use of a certain opportunity for my children, and getting a certain person off my back.
While I didn’t physically write the word on paper, in the moment I extended the operating system metaphor implied by “Upgrades” by thinking of these resulting benefits as features, in keeping with the added or improved functionality that comes with any software upgrade.
And so, instead of the aforementioned finger-wagger getting on my case, with a simple change in heading (and frame of mind), the tired old “to-do” list transformed itself into a software developer saying, “Come and get this cool stuff — it’s yours for the taking”. While it may not be as easy as simply issuing freebsd-update fetch and freebsd-update install from the command line of this particular computer, it certainly feels more like a friendly invitation to something good, rather than a stern list of objectives to fulfill, with an unspoken/unwritten ‘or else!’ attached to it.
So far, this approach is working quite well for me. And although it has only been a few days (and thus too early to tell if this is a long-term solution or a momentary novelty), for now at least it is a motivational inner game strategy that provides a way forward through the rapids. With enough diligence and hard work, maybe there will eventually be more than just empty Corona bottles and discarded paper plates waiting for me at the finish line.