My 16 year old daughter was diagnosed as Attention Deficit Disorder and then, at the age of 57, so was I. A lifetime of struggle was placed into a context that made sense of a lot of failure and frustration. This blog documents and celebrates what has happened to me since.
Monday, November 13, 2006
He and I have a history with bowling. Our parents taught us to bowl early and kept us in junior leagues until we graduated from high school. They didn't need to force us to do it. We liked it. Neither of us were great bowlers, for different reasons, but we both had a good time, most of the time, although we were both frustrated by our inability to do as well as some others. We were low middle of the pack in our abilities.
He kept at it, over the years, and has developed into a decent bowler. He is actually in the Southern Oregon Bowling Hall of Fame but mostly because of his work with junior bowlers and with Special Olympics. He works at a bowling "center" (we are not allowed to call them "alleys" any more).
I didn't keep at it. I bowled for a while in the Marine Corps and actually saw my average jump about thirty pins. I left off, in high school, in the low 150's and got up to the low 180's. But I didn't see any reason to keep it up. It still frustrated me. I had an unbreakable tendency to rush the line, to (I now understand) get to the line before the ball did, and then to throw the ball hard. That lack of timing and hard throwing ruined my form and made me inconsistent. Inconsistency in something like bowling is an assurance of erratic--and mostly poor--performance. Such performance is frustrating and a low tolerance for frustration is made even more damaging to a person when a lot of frustration is what their poor performance brings them. I think they call this a cycle of some kind...
I did take a bowling class in college when I needed a PE credit and it was ok to be at the top of the class. How many years did I have behind me, at that point? It was a bunch of beginners. I felt like Dick Weber.
I have had a ball in my hand a time or two since then, usually when my brother and I got together. Mostly it was after my girls were born and they wanted to try it. Each time I went I realized that I was not really good at this, that the middling skill I had developed once had eroded and left me erratic and frustrated. One time I would throw a beautiful strike and the next time I'd knock a couple of pins off of one side. Spares were really hard. I had no desire to do it again very soon.
But last night was different. Last night was the first time I bowled since my ADD diagnosis and since I started on medication. Like so many things I have done a lot in my life (and not done very well), I found bowling a much improved experience.
I was able to concentrate in a whole new way. I always knew what I was supposed to do to be able to bowl well. It was never lack of knowledge of the technique that held me back. It was always an inability to control myself, physically, mentally and emotionally that was the problem. I "could" not employ the technique I knew I was supposed to be using.
The setting last night was not conducive to good performance, for me. Lots of distraction. It was open bowling, with young children on lanes on both sides, who knew nothing of the taking of turns. They rushed up when they were ready and hung out at the foul line--often partially on our lane--as they watched the results of their rolling (or bouncing) of the ball. And my own family was not "centered" on bowling the way a team would be, so it was not always easy to keep my mind on what I was doing. Finally, of course, I was caught up in the good natured (?) competition with my brother.
But I realized, almost from the first ball, that things were going to be different, last night. And different they were. I didn't set the world on fire but for one who had not had a ball in his hands for a long time, I did very well. I was thinking, all the time, about what it was I was supposed to be doing and was able to actually do it a lot of the time. I realized that I could, with some time, to get back into the groove, be much better at this than I ever was before. I wanted to join a league, do this regularly. I felt, as I have so often felt since I started on medication, to revisit the "site" of previous humiliations and conquer. Yeah, you know, like going back to the seventh grade and taking science, again. Or going back to that first date...or the second or third one, for that matter.
Will I do it? Will I make bowling a part of my life? No. Not likely. Who has time? My life is already full and too full. But, standing there, holding that ball, looking at those pins, I had another reminder that I am disabled, and have been disabled all of my life. A lot of the frustration I have felt in my life at being unable to perform as well as I wanted to was not due to something about which nothing could be done, something beyond my control. I was not, as I believed (and still on an emotional, habitual level, believe) doomed to a life of being "no good" or "substandard." I can do something about it, now. I can.
I don't have to go back and show myself, in every situation in which I failed that I can succeed, although it would be satisfying in some ways to do that just to show some people that I am not as bad at things as they thought I was. It's plenty to be able to move forward with what is happening in my life, now, to apply what I have learned to what's on my desk, today.
But, man, I wish I could have another shot at playing baseball as a kid and as a young man.
ps. I saw a great cartoon in the New Yorker recently. Typical drawing; man is on the couch, psychiatrist sitting there with his pad. And the psychiatrist says "If you're happy and you know it stick with your dosage."
I read that and grinned, from ear to ear.
Golf! Oh, my! Where are my golf clubs?
- Tmothy Travis
- I am a convinced Beanite Friend, a member of Bridge City Friends Meeting, Willamette Quarterly Meeting and North Pacific Yearly Meeting of the Religious Society of Friends. Notwithstanding the doubts of some who claim the name, I am a Christian who does a Buddhist practice and believes that God talks to everyone, all the time. I have worked in the judicial branch of government, as well as being a trial lawyer, a public school teacher (counselor and coach), a kite merchant, and a Marine Corp Sergeant. I am currently working as a consultant to public and private agencies on issues of child welfare, juvenile justice, and substance abuse treatment courts.