I wrote a poem yesterday, and I love it! It took me about six hours to complete and I loved every minute of it.
It’s so funny how my brain will completely freeze up or not even start for some things, yet it will go in overdrive for others.
Super power? Maybe? I think that’s a nice, positive way of looking at it! In a way, I kind of do feel like Superman or Batman with two personas.
I’m unmotivated and overwhelmed “Dana” for mundane daily tasks, but give me something I want to do and I become “Daynah” creative genius—well, in my mind.
When I was younger I didn’t understand this, I wasn’t aware I had this super power. Life was just frustrating watching all of the other kids excel at academics while I struggled to barely pass.
As I got older I realized something was very different when I started doing something I wanted to do. I became uber competitive and borderline obsessive. The polar opposite of the girl who couldn’t remember to put her name on her papers, or never read directions and circled instead of underlined.
What I realized what I was doing actually has a name. It’s called hyperfocusing. Neurotypicals can hyperfocus too. It’s not ONLY something people who have ADHD or are on the spectrum do. It just happens more frequently and is more intense for those of us who are neurodiverse.
For example, one time in eighth grade I was so engrossed in the art I was working on, I had absolutely no idea the teacher had asked everyone to move their desks back. Have you ever heard metal legs scraping across a tiled floor? It’s not quiet. When I had come out of my trance I realized the whole class, including the teacher was staring at me. My desk was the only one who hadn’t moved.
Although hyper focusing could be viewed as a bad thing, I feel like it could be used for good if channeled correctly!
I guess the key in helping a child with ADHD is to figure what they enjoy, what they are passionate about and lead them in a direction they could use it as a means of survival—a career path!
I showed an interest in writing at a very early age and of course in the eighties I loved making skits with our family camcorder. I would take anyone who was willing to be talent and make them a household name—granted, it was just our household—but still.
Basically I was the female Adam Goldberg—whom I absolutely admire and adore. Watching “The Goldberg’s” is like watching my life—but I digress.
I actually did end up graduating from Columbia College and even though I don’t work in the television industry I utilize my degree in other ways. I work as a paraprofessional and help kids who struggled like me. However, I also help run the school musical and I’m thinking about starting a school news show once covid is over. Most recently I wrote a middle-grade book! These are all great jobs for me and my super power.
I’m going to post my poem now and it’s a bit erotic, so if you don’t like that sort of thing I encourage you to stop reading at this point. If you don’t mind a curse word and a bit of suggestive material, I encourage you to read on!
You awakened me.
Like a light switch.
I was turned on.
Sensations surged inside my body like electrical currents flowing through a circuit—your words, the conductor.
Your knowledge seduced this academically starved waif.
I devoured your erudition; savored every bit as though it were my last meal.
Licked the spoon clean.
I believed love was:
Illogical, irrational, unreasoned.
Who knew I needed a mind fuck?
Your words slid beneath my cortex like an index finger steadily running across and underneath the fringe of my lacy blue, high cut thong.
They permeated into my frontal lobe and without warning, every arrector pili muscle contracted; the hairs
on my arms stood erect.
No fight, no flight, just:
Arousal, excitation, inspiration.
I pined for more words, your words, your:
Perceptive, percipient, acute
Cognition of words.
Tete-a-tete pulled me into you like a pair of brawny hands.
One gripping the nape of my neck and the other clutching my buttox.
Mental intimacy achieved.
Feelings of euphoria swirled throughout my parietal lobes as I climaxed from the intellectual orgasm, leaving me:
Warm, satisfied, fulfilled.
And—at a loss for words.