The Positives and Negatives of Expletives and Distraction

I have a foul mouth. Along with avoiding cheese and keeping my calorie intake under 2,000, it’s a daily struggle to keep the F word from slipping past my lips. For example, I had just cleaned up the family room and went to make myself a cup of tea in the Keurig, when I heard the gawd-awful sound of Legos clattering onto the freshly swept hardwood. I collapsed dramatically on the kitchen counter and facedown, screamed into the Formica abyss, “ARE YOU F%#$-ING KIDDING ME?!”

See? It’s a struggle. You must sympathize with me over the Legos. But here’s the thing: maybe it’s not that big of a deal. The swearing, I mean. You don’t have to worry about clapping your hands over your children’s ears, I can read a room. While at times I find it to be completely vulgar, inappropriate, and unnecessary, at other times, depending on the situation, a carefully curated curse word can evoke hilarious and completely relatable reactions from friends, family and bystanders. But most importantly, when needing to release some pent up emotional steam, it is oh-so-satisfying.

Contemplating the whys and wherefores of my penchant for uttering obscenities led me to think about other negative aspects of my persona.

I’ve been a card-carrying member of the ADD (Attention Deficit Disorder) club since 5^th grade. I used to take medication for it when I was in school. But I’ve learned to deal with it as an adult, I guess. I get easily distracted and it’s very hard for me to stay on task sometimes. And, if I’m not super interested in a subject, my ability to zone-out mid-conversation is prize-winning. I suppose it could be considered just a quirky personality trait.

The only time I was truly embarrassed about my ADD was in 8^th grade. It was during band class, and I was frolicking about in my own little world when I should have been paying attention. Suddenly, our band director’s voice pierced through the fog, “ELLEN, DID YOU TAKE YOUR MEDICINE TODAY?!” I was so humiliated. I remember shooting my best friend a desperate look. I was half embarrassed and half terror-stricken that if my mother heard about this, she would literally rip my band director limb from limb. I didn’t tell my mom until adulthood. Her response was pretty much what I had expected. I did have to remind her that the band director in question wasn’t employed at that school anymore, and I didn’t know her forwarding address. And no, she couldn’t be fired for something that occurred in 2002.

No one talks about the positives of having ADD. I’m creative. Ideas come to me in a flash. I can start a conversation with just about anyone. I also can completely zone out when my husband watches wrestling or football and, choosing instead to read a complete novel. No interest = nonexistent when it comes to ADD.

My therapist says I need to work on oversharing. But here’s the other thing, I do keep things close to the chest. It just depends on what the subject. My political and social views are one thing I’m not too loud about. What’s the point? It just feels like screaming into the void anymore. But I have views and I have opinions. I have stomped for candidates, and I have donated my time and money to movements that I hold dear. But I don’t really share that stuff on social media. It only causes strife and pointless argument. And I’d rather share an on-point meme anyway.

I feel there are positive aspects to almost everything. I worry that I’m being too loud or overcompensating with humor. But I also could be breaking some invisible wall of tension for someone. I zone out to a clinical degree. On the up side, perhaps I’ll miss someone saying something offensive that would make me fume and obsess and stick with me for days? I swear too much. This could also be read as I speak with passion. I might make someone laugh. See? Silver linings.

Sometimes I feel like I’m performing. When meeting new people, I often overcompensate with humor and self-deprecation. It is impossible for me to be act coy or act stoic upon first introductions. Instead, I perform like I’m auditioning for SNL or filling in for Ellen (the famous one) on her day off. My only saving grace is that I don’t employ props. I hate props – unless you find yourself in need of a dirty joke as you’re picking out your produce, then I’m your girl. But here’s the thing, it’s automatic. I cannot help myself. When I’m completely extra during conversation, I’m just being myself. So what’s the point of giving a flying f . . . ing poop? If I make someone laugh and brighten their day, that’s awesome. If people think I’m loud and annoying? #*&! ‘em!