…well, that’s how I feel sometimes. ADD is a bitch of a stumbling block. Some people believe that ADD or ADHD sufferers are just fidgety or flighty. It’s common to brand those with the ailment as being disruptive or difficult. It can be all that, I’m not here to enlighten or detract from common conceptions. I’m on my blog talking about me and my demons.
I’m a smart girl. My IQ tests put me in the 140s. So why do I feel so fucking stupid so often? I only began to understand this association with ADD a couple of years ago. After a lifetime of hardships in understanding what can seem so simple for others- I struggle, fight, bite, bleed and cry as I try to understand. This is something I never understood until I finally felt so low for a handful of reasons that a bout of clinical depression set in and I sought the help of my local therapist and psychiatrist. Within the first session, my therapist asked if I’d ever been diagnosed with ADD. No… I was in there for depression and frustration. I was seeking his help with my inability to finish anything- to cope- to continue- to be less argumentative… I wasn’t here to become a ‘Ritalin kid!’ I was 30, depressed and needed to find out why.
Every test pinpointed me. Every test my mother and husband took- pegged me for ADD. We were shocked and simultaneously brought to snickering fits over me and my fucked up little brain spelled out so plainly on the photocopies before us. “Hey- that’s you!” was commonly uttered as we ticked boxes with our answers…
That was it. I was a textbook case. I took a prescription (Adderall XR). I got better. Then I stopped my medication after a year and a half of it.
Perhaps I was wrong to do so. I’m back to being that confused, dim-feeling girl who wants only to shine just bright enough to avoid challenges. Order. I need order. Don’t mix up the pieces… I won’t cope well and you’ll see me cry.
This is a personal post about my brain. I’m not asking for anyone’s advice for I know what I need to do. I have to find that balance again. I’ll try to avoid prescription drugs. I’m looking into more natural remedies and going to make an effort to get back into my yoga practices. I felt better with that discipline in my life. It was structure. It felt good on several levels of my being. If I can rein in the powerless frustrations and brick walls just a little…
…then maybe I’ll do all the things I want to do. Then maybe I’ll stop hiding behind half-hearted accomplishments and really try something to grow my mind with. I want to be able to handle the challenges. I want to feed my brain and soul. If the only way to do that is to stifle the demons with drugs, then so be it. I was better then. I was less mad. I got things done. I felt good. I cried less and actually felt intelligent. This is a disjointed and difficult post. It’s not structured well and is uncomfortable but necessary for me to write. Sorry about that…
So I need to find a new path. A medicated one. I only fear losing ‘me’ in the haze of efficient brain activity. Isn’t it the quirks that make us who we are? Or perhaps its those very quirks that prevent us from becoming who we can be.