A day in the life of a neurodivergent parent and writer.
On how I manage my energy, time, and daily life.
The first thing is to acknowledge how bad I am at converting time to energy.
Spoon theory is the go-to energy management theory for autistics and ADHDers, but it doesn’t quite work for me because executive functioning and deep work spoons vary every other day. Some days, like Tuesday, my deep focus or hyper focus, happens in the mornings, and today (when you’re reading this it will happen in the afternoons) and that takes a toll. I find my wiring likes to flip flop on which is the dominant trait. On ADHD days, I’m attempting to multifocus and I can get 20-30 tasks done; on ASD Days, which my autism is the dominant trait I can get about half of that total done. At most 20 tasks.
What is routine is that certain things take more spoons than others, and the next day is a kind of recovery day. It’s my body saying, okay you went and did a lot yesterday, let’s take it slow today. It’s hard for me to start anything, and it takes longer to do something. So I resolve just to maintain the day. Maintenance involves talking a walk outside, writing three pages in my journal, and reading. None of those things take very much time at all. Maybe an hour.
(I do my planning and reflections in my journal)
Every day, there are about 20-30 actions on average. If I’m getting anywhere over 20-25 actions, the next day (recovery) will be a doozy and it’ll be hard for me to do about 15-20 actions. For me, an action to use David Allen’s Two Minute rule, is 5 minutes or less. Because, on really any given day it takes me about time and a half to get started and then process the action. Unload the bottom rack of the dishwasher. That’ll be five minutes.
A project is anything that takes three or more actions, or about 25 minutes (I break this into Pomodoro blocks, which is still the time-tested method to manage my tasks. It’s worked since grad school, and it continues to work to this day.) Unloading, loading, and washing the dishes—that’s a project. Obviously, I don’t list out my projects for the day, because that would be maddening, but when something is done, I write it down.
The way I manage this is by keeping a Done List, which I got from Oliver Burkeman. (Pictured above. I keep it in my Library, powered by Bear, because I have my iPhone with me pretty much everywhere when I’m outside the house). I break my days into a three-act story structure because time blocks don’t work. Usually, the morning is Act 1. Act 2 is from Lunch until I get my kids. Act three is from dinner time until bedtime. I usually ask myself at specific act breaks in the day how I’m feeling (see below image for how I track my energy bar—like in a video game—in my journal across the act breaks.)
I ask do I need to do less? Like lay down and read or watch a show, or show up somewhere? And I know that by the end of the day, if I’m anywhere between 20 and 30 “Done” items—I know that the next day will take me a while to get started and when I do get started, the tasks and projects will take longer than they usually do on an “ADHD Day.”
So I assign three projects for an ASD day. Sometimes that’s three meetings and sometimes it’s nothing other than one of them being a maintenance project. (Again, that’s walking, writing, and reading). I know that will be enough to satisfy myself.
That means rather than exhausting myself by working on five to seven projects the next day, that means, I probably can only do three on an ASD Day. One of which is the Maintenance Project. So I try to keep things focused on three major projects a day. One project per act. Sometimes that’s doing drop off and pick up of my kids.
In the summer, that’s taking my son to camp, taking my daughter to preschool, and driving home. And repeating it all again at the end of the day which is variable depending on when camp gets out. Maybe I get about five to six hours of work time in the summer. None of those actions take five minutes or less. Those are focus/energy/sensory-based actions.
Say, for example, on one specific day last week I had to do both kids’ bedtime because my wife had an obligation on an ASD day. That means there’s going to be a lot of arranging and constant needs that are going to go on for the better part of an hour and change. Something has to give during my “work hours.”
Like I need to lay down before picking up my kids and watch a show, or an email does not get done, or I read one less book than I intended that day. It forces me to be flexible with my energy, and that’s a good thing for someone on the spectrum because flexibility is often what we struggle with the most. Routines and rigidity are what keep us safe and regulated, experts say. But do you know who doesn’t care about your routines?
The universe.
Also, your kids.
Of the two things, you have some control of the latter and no control of the former. You’re not going to change either or it’s going to be so minuscule that it takes years to make any considerable progress. That’s why my philosophical mantra is:
“There’s no such thing as bad weather, just bad gear, and bad attitudes.”
I can always have a good attitude about anything the universe or my kids throw at me. Both are weather and my philosophy (see previous letter below).
.
I’m sorry that’s a bit of hyperbolic tough love. In my experience, that’s true. My autistic self shuts down when I attempt to control things out of my control. Like other people, my health, my ability to socialize, and solve problems. I get overwhelmed, shameful, pessimistic, and isolationist, and I have a hard time figuring out a productive outlet when I attempt to control things out of my control.
All of those things, I understand, are against my nature. I pride myself on my ability to understand myself, do hard things, and step out of my comfort zone. (I do that daily here in Indiana because I don’t speak fucking Hoosier/Southern).
I’m really fair with myself and others (a lot of the time, that errs on the side of people-pleasing), and I enjoy cultivating knowledge and wisdom that helps me think better, act wisely, and deal with problems. Right now, that’s just “maintenance.”
That is what I think is critical in understanding the neurodivergent mind—is the source of many of our “inappropriate behaviors” is what a neurotypical would say. But really, it’s a fundamental desire to control things out of our control, and when we can’t, that causes a lot of outbursts.
I don’t mean to gaslight here, but on an individual level, you’re really not going to change society or other people. So rather than try to control something you really can’t, try to control something you can—your judgments about those externals. That’s why I think it’s critical to talk about our stories, but don’t expect an outcome to go in your favor when you speak that story. Remember, we’re process thinkers—not outcome thinkers. It is natural for us to let go of outcomes, so do the best you can at who you are.
I know that fundamentally goes against our neurodivergent sense of justice, but we still have to deal with it when it does not go how we desire. It’s impossible for us to be indifferent about it, but how we can take back control of that outcome is how we respond to it. I choose to maintain myself. And what is not in our control is variable—it’s a spectrum. And that is what my autistic brain truly struggles with. Variation is a source of a lot of my distress. It’s why autism is a spectrum, and I think what helps me understand the larger world and other people in it is understanding that we’re all on a spectrum to a certain extent. We’re all—neurotypical and neurodivergent alike—trying to maintain some semblance of good character. I’m not alone. There are a lot of people struggling in the same way that I am, and that’s why I write these letters I hope it’ll reach someone who is struggling just like me and give them that spark to try something new that will help them.
Being in control of ourselves is a spectrum, having the courage to do hard things is a spectrum, and having the courage to say no is just as hard and worthy. Being fair with one another is a spectrum and it’s not black-or-white thinking, and gaining information and wisdom is a spectrum.
All of those things take a lot of time and energy. It’s a kinder, gentler, more growth-mindset approach to the world. I think that a way to solve that problem is on a much smaller scale—on a person-to-person basis. And thinking about the process and being okay with whatever the outcome of that process is.
I hope this was helpful. So please let me know.
Talk to you again in July with another Story from the Spectrum.
I’m going back to bed.
Dave