“Isn’t it great to realize that it’s not something you’ve been doing wrong?”

“Isn’t it great to realize that it’s not something you’ve been doing wrong?”

That was my response to a member of my community who, after being diagnosed with ADHD and starting on medication, had suddenly found that his life had turned around.

It was my own willingness to share my diagnosis of ADHD only a few years ago, along with the trials and tribulations involved, that led several members of my community to seek help for their own psychological ailments – many of whom, thank God, are now better placed to grapple with the unique challenges they face.

But my diagnosis didn’t emerge from a simple visit to a therapist – it was the opposite. Having met with psychologists in various offices from New York to Boston (prior to living in Kansas, we were always on the East Coast), I always found myself facing the same problem: What everyone else found easy seemed not just difficult but nigh-on impossible for me; yet the things most people found daunting seemed easy.

Imagine, for example, that someone came up to you right now and informed you that, in about 30 minutes’ time, you would have to stand up in front of 500 people and deliver an hour-long lecture on some abstract and arcane area of Jewish thought. If you’re like most people, that thought terrifies you – even if you substitute the topic for one with which you are familiar.

But not me – I’d be fine with that. Truth be told, I’d probably have 10 minutes spare. Sure, I’d be nervous, I’d be stressed. But I’d barely break a sweat while sketching out what I was going to say.

But what if now, instead, someone asked you to respond to a text or email with a simple “yes” or “no” – or asked you to fill out a simple form that included your basic details. That’s the type of thing that terrifies me.

Now, let me tell you: Even as I write that sentence it looks ridiculous. And a part of me is embarrassed that such a statement written by me, a community leader, will be printed for the public record.

And that was always my problem when I met with a therapist.

As I’d sit in front of them, I’d do all the talking – which included me convincing myself that there was an easy solution. “You know, as I say it out loud it sounds ridiculous – what if I just set aside 30 minutes a day to process all of these small tasks, and I’ll do it effortlessly!”

But I never could. As easy as it sounds, the idea of setting aside 30 minutes a day for these brief tasks became my Everest. While I rarely struggled to set aside several hours for major projects, these small things were impossible.

All of which led me to another visit to a therapist here in Kansas – only this time, I decided to change my tactic. Rather than trying to explain to him why I wasn’t struggling as much as I thought I was, I would lay it all before him.

And I still remember the way I framed it: “Asking me to answer emails is like asking me to touch a cockroach.” It wasn’t that it was boring. It wasn’t that I didn’t like it or that I wasn’t motivated to do it – the idea of doing it sparked a physical aversion.

Which led to my therapist’s life-changing response: “Have you ever been tested for ADHD?”

The test – which was far more rigorous and intense than I had imagined – revealed me to be a textbook case of ADHD. To boot, I was informed that I was part of the second-most diagnosed group of people with ADHD: men in their 30s who, having got by until now, suddenly recognize that they are failing at things that they shouldn’t be.

And while my diagnosis didn’t change anything, it brought awareness: Now I know what I’m up against, I am better positioned to fight it. Additionally, I am blessed to have ADHD medication that works for me (not all are as lucky). Though here, I remember the advice of my therapist. “It’s a bit like getting a pair of glasses for the first time. It doesn’t mean you magically start reading five books a month, but at least you can finally see the words on the page.”

And that’s how it’s been. There has been no magic cure. Things aren’t always easier. But I’m finally armed with the capacity to handle it.

Rabbi Mark Glass is the outgoing rabbi of Congregation Beth Israel Abraham and Voliner.