I have a recurring pattern, which I call “the knife’s edge”. Here’s what it looks like.

One day, I’ve decided that at some point on that day, I’m going to do something. Something that’s been weighing on me, something I’ve been ruminating about and feeling bad for not having done. Something where it feels bad to think about it, because thinking about it reminds me I need to do it. Something that has specific practical difficulties, where it’s gone poorly in the past and I anticipate it going poorly again. Something that has a lot of steps to be navigated, where those steps need to be navigated well to achieve a good outcome.

But while I’ve decided that I’m going to do it that day, I haven’t picked a specific time. And I’m doing something relaxing or diverting. And it’s the end of a long day, and I have very little willpower left.

So I’ll just sit there. Doing something diverting. Not because I want to be, but because I can get myself to do anything else. I can’t get myself to do the difficult thing that’s weighing on me, that I want to do. Because I can’t think about it long enough to plan my way through the difficulties, be at peace with potential for it to go poorly, and be at peace with the regret of not having done it yet.

Because planning and reaching equanimity take time and focus. And I have Rapid Topic Update (RTU, conventionally called ADHD). And before I plan things out and reach equanimity and go and do the thing, my attention updates away from the topic. It has no pull to my topic update, and I don’t have the willpower to stay on it anyway for long enough.

I can’t get myself to give up, either. Because giving up requires an active choice too. It carries negative emotions too. It has no pull to my topic update, either.

So if this is happening at the office, I stay at the office, long, long into the night. If this is happening at home, I stay awake, long, long into the night. It disrupts my sleep, and I feel like a failure, even more than if I give up before it gets too late.

This is the knife’s edge. I’m like a knife sunk into a wood block, unstably stuck in the middle between doing the thing and giving up, and I could fall either way at any moment, but I stay stuck.

Eventually, the knife tips. Eventually, as I get severely exhausted, the topic updates slow down, and there’s no pull towards anything. And the knife tips.

Sometimes the knife falls toward doing it, and I do it late, late into the night. And I don’t feel good about having done it, because I’m feeling so bad about staying up. Sometimes the knife falls toward giving up, and I feel relieved but sad.

That’s the knife’s edge.

Causes

The most common things I’m trying to do when I end up stuck on the knife’s edge are trying to shower, and trying to complete a piece of writing for a paper. It’s also happened with important emails, booking travel, dishes, laundry, and taking out the trash. Generally, it’s either weighty, committal actions, personal hygiene, or home upkeep.

Where I’m going from here

For years, or even a decade, I’ve had this pattern happen. It’s constantly been a distressing surprise, a sinkhole in the road that I stumble into.

I don’t want to be surprised any more.

Acceptance

The knife’s edge is part of me. When the circumstances line up, it happens. When the circumstances line up, it’s how I behave. When the circumstances line up, that’s what I do.

It doesn’t reveal a secret something about my preferences. It’s not demonstrating that I secretly want to do the distracting thing more than I want to do the important thing. My preferences aren’t what’s at issue, it’s the confluence of my willpower and my unsurfaced regrets. If anything, it’s a consequence of having a very strong preference for the important thing, so strong that I’ve built up that regret.

It doesn’t mean I’m a bad person because I land on the knife’s edge. It’s just a way things go, a fact about me. Morally neutral. The substrate upon which choices are made, not the choice itself.

I land on the knife’s edge. Regularly. It’s part of who I am.

Foresight

Now that I accept myself, I can hope to see the knife’s edge coming, watch the knife swing down into the wood block. And not just the dim awareness of repeated experience poking through the layer of denial. The full, proper awareness of a likely event in the near future. I can defuse the panic, the denial, the shame at the anticipation.

It doesn’t need to be a surprise. I can prepare for it. I can alleviate it, such as by surfacing and defusing the negative emptions, and by sculpting the topic updates that form a critical part of the trapped cycle, to help me escape the loop.

But if my preparations don’t work, if nothing’s alleviated, that’s fine. Knife’s edges aren’t something I need to regret, aren’t something I need to fear. I can be at peace.