My Ball and Chain

A Poem by Sara Elizabeth

Trials and tribulations of my A.D.D and the everyday battles. An ode to my a.d.d brain

I count the cracks on the sidewalk,

And hope they are even.

I press my face up against the glass of the navy blue wagon and jump from grass to grass

hoping not to miss a stretch too far decorated with concrete so that I can land.

My thoughts run amok in this cranium of mine.

A steam engine, full speed ahead teasing, “Catch me if you can!”

Words, mistaking themselves for a pair of acrobatic daredevils,

That I can’t dare to even compete with.

It doesn’t add up until you subtract the things I can’t deal with.

Not even sure who said one plus one equals two.

“Tidy your room,” I hear my mother say.

I clench my fists tight, because I only just did it yesterday.

And I meant to do the dishes, honestly,

But the flickering of the fluorescent light bulb above my head,

And the tap, tap, tapping of that pink glitter pencil on that stained wood grain took the front seat.

Because looking at snowflakes for three whole hours was so much easier than trying to fit my broken hand inside the box in my mind where my motivation is supposed to be.

You will never know the panic inside when I can’t even understand my own anger and fright.

I’m way too temperamental they say!

And too hard to train.

The way yelling at me makes you forget how good I can be.

A.D.D is my ball and chain.

My life is a series of almost’s, have been’s and could be’s.

Not quite sure where to begin, or how to end

I am in a constant state of barely getting by ,

Which is kind of ironic when someone who is “Full speed ahead” can so easily get left behind.

I promise, I walked in with good intentions.

Novels with references a mile long.

Circumstances leave me with a plethora of thoughts and emotions, hoping that one day I’ll be able to find that secret potion.

The truth is, A.D.D has been my slave master for as long as I can remember.

From my High’s to my Low’s,

Telling you I love you, but adding up those countless low blows.

Lather, Rinse, Repeat.

The darker hues are always fighting for recognition.

The colors of under achievement, mood swings and poor tolerance are among those attributes in which I need to color lighter.

Constantly leaving you feeling like you’ve bitten off more than you can chew.

My temper tantrums, forgetfulness and thoughtlessness to name a few.

Instead, I become defensive, because I know what you say is true.

Trying to make sense of the constant confusion in my head,

My A.D.D stays true.

© 2015 Sara Elizabeth

Author's Note

Grammar Natzi's aren't welcome. This poem is written with the utmost passion and tried my best to project my real life struggles in a raw, visual way. Comments are appreciated :)

My Review

Would you like to review this Poem?
Login | Register

Reviews

Shane Mohamed

Okay, I haven't read a good new member's poem for a long time, and this is a good one. I think you came across the perfect person to review your ADD, because I have it along with another bouquet of mental diseases, but take it from me: the more you label yourself, the sicker you become. It's a good thing you chose writing as an outlet. It's an outlet for me as well. I've seen many psychiatrist, and from the symptoms you complain from, the strongest problem you have is obsessions; therefore, I would say that you're more of Obsessive compulsive than you are Attention deficit, but it doesn't negate it. You sound like a pretty depressed young lady as well. Again, don't label yourself looking for sympathy. It's not a good path to go down to. See a professional and share your feelings and symptoms. Again, mental diseases are a sensitive issue, and without noticing it, you'll find others keeping a distance. I wish you the best.

Shane