Losing Track of Time

Losing Track of Time

I’ve always had mornings where I woke up in a panic, convinced I forgot to set my alarm, something that has happened in reality only twice in the past 10 years or so. Some of those mornings are work days, and I wake up a good 45 minutes - if I’m lucky - to three hours before my alarm gets up. And then, I’m up. Awake. Wide awake. Three hours before I have to get out of bed? Doesn’t matter, I can’t get back to sleep. Then there are the Saturday or Sunday mornings I wake up panicked about getting ready for work. Sure, other people do that sort of thing, but do they do it almost every weekend? As for knowing how long something actually takes, I’m not very good at judging. How long does it take to make the same breakfast I‘ve made for years, the breakfast I make before work - when I had a job - and make on the weekends? I‘ve no idea. Well, no, that’s not true. I know it takes somewhere between ten minutes and half an hour. Took me a few years to be able to figure out that much. Any more specific than that, I can’t do.

So what’s causing this complete lack of understanding about time? Well, experts say it’s ADD. Yet another symptom. It’s a tricky thing, there are things that happen to everyone at some point and time. Everyone has a hard time judging time now and again. Everyone has trouble focusing on something, especially something they’re not interested in. Everyone has difficulty prioritizing at times. For me, it’s daily. This isn’t an occasional thing, this is normal for me. Each day, when I wake, I have no idea what day of the week it is. I do have some idea what time it is, but that’s in part due to a game I play in the mornings. Once my eyes open, and I realize that there’s no chance of going back to sleep, I try to determine what time it is. Originally born of frustration, now it’s just something I do. Not consciously, one might even say it’s a bit compulsive. But that’s a whole ‘nuther disorder. Throughout the year, I try to judge the time based on the light coming through the window. At two in the morning, this is a bit trickier, of course, and the game does change based on the time of the year. 6:30 AM looks very different between June and December. But I’ve gotten pretty good at it. Up to a point. Before 3:30 AM, after 9:30 AM, it’s much more difficult. Still do it sometimes, based on how tired I feel, based on anything else I’ve done that evening, or what I’ve read before going to sleep, or if I’ve taken anything for pain. Chronic pain, got prescriptions for that, only take them when I have to.

Then there’s the day of the week. Everyone has had days when they were just off, when they thought it was Wednesday on Tuesday, Friday on Wednesday. It happens. The more stressed a person becomes, the more likely it becomes. Based on that reasoning, I’m constantly in a state of stress. I’m really not. I just have no sense of time. None. I keep calendars in my house for the specific purpose of knowing what day of the week it is. I can be watching a television show that only comes on Wednesdays, and still need reminding what day of the week it is. It’s even worse if the networks move a show temporarily, or permanently. I’m lost, then. In the mornings, I watch the Today show on NBC. No reason other than it was on the air until 10:00 AM, and I didn’t have to leave the house until 9:30 to get to work. Before my shift changed, I watched CBS this morning, simply because I watch CBS Sunday Morning when I’m up and home, and it‘s familiar. No Good Morning America since I was a kid. But that’s not the point. The Today show is on 7 days a week. While I can’t necessarily remember what day it is, I can usually use that to at least tell me whether or not it’s a weekday. Even when the weekend hosts substitute, I know.

The first time I took an ADD medication, I realized that it was possible to have some sense of time. Still not perfect, but better than without. It was amazing. It was like someone had turned on a switch I never knew was there. At the time, I was packing up to leave a convention. There was one more session I wanted to attend, but I needed to check out of my room before going. I was not only able to pack myself up, but my erstwhile roommate in 15 minutes total, leaving plenty of time to grab a quick bite before going to the last session. Before that little pill kicked in, both I and my roommate were staring at the room, trying to determine where to start, trying to find the fastest way to get everything packed up and out of there.

How long does it take me to take a shower? What if I wash my hair, how much longer? How much time do I need to sort my laundry? Do I have enough time to vacuum the entire house during this commercial break? Do I have time to stop at McDonald’s before going to my meeting in 15 minutes? If I leave the house at 9:40, do I have enough time to get to work, even with traffic? With or without medication, I still have a miserable sense of time. The difference with medication is at least I don’t distract as easily.