Back to basics

Recently, I passed the fifth anniversary of getting officially diagnosed with ADD. The fifth anniversary's referred to as the "paper anniversary". Accordingly, I'm sure that I spent that day looking through stacks of papers, and (for added drama) probably being late for something, too.

I'm going to rip off the "What I Know For Sure" column that Oprah writes in the back of her magazine to share a few thoughts about my diagnosis and taking ADD meds:

* Prior to Diagnosis Day, I had this notion that once I started taking ADD meds, I would be interested in taking care of everything that absolutely uninterests me because I know had focus, baby. That idea, alas, couldn't be more untrue. If a drug gets developed that makes me care about housecleaning or filing my taxes, then I'll be the first in line for it.

* If you think you're an ADDer and are unmedicated and wonder what it's like taking ADD meds, do this: tune a channel on your radio a decimal or so above or below the actual station number (if you're old-school, just turn the knob a hair). The out of tune station is how I felt before meds; the in-tune station is how I feel with meds. And either way, I still wanna rock.

* I spent so many years out of focus that I didn't really know what it was like to be focused. For example, I used to think all of my work was hard to get through, but I then realized (once medicated) that it was easier to maintain a train of thought on tasks that I indeed enjoy.

* On that note, drugs don't change your psychology. So, you will still dislike your coworkers or have commitment issues or be bored by what you consider busywork. Perhaps ADD factors into your issues, but solely blaming ADD for 'em isn't going to help you cope. (Even though I've worded this in the second person, I'm also talking to myself here.)

* Lastly, and most importantly, taking care of yourself has to come first, above everything else. I learned this big-time when I got coaching after my diagnosis. Getting enough sleep, eating right, planning your day, and doing stuff you enjoy is key.

So, I'll be honest and 'fess up here: I've been missing the mark lately on that last point. Skipping sleep's been the biggest culprit. Staying up late to "catch up on stuff" never pays off in the long run. And hey, let's be honest: I look so much better when I'm well rested and not haggard looking. And when I don't get enough sleep, everything else seems to fall apart to some degree. I don't eat properly; instead, I become a Dyson vacuum for carbohydrates in pursuit of energy. And of course, the combo of these two things certainly wore down my resistance, resulting in me being knocked out sick a couple of weeks ago. As far as planning goes...I've taken to jot appointments down on post-its and stick them in the canyon of my work bag, rather than put 'em in my calendar.

One thing I have made an effort of doing, though, is making time to do stuff that I enjoy. I recently finished a writing class that's made me realize how much I've been missing my favorite creative pursuit. Which, actually, is what got myself back here, so yay for that. The grind that is my job seemed to curb my social life, and I've been making more of an effort to connect with my pals.

So, it's time to take all of the knowledge I gained in years 1-5 as an ADDer, use it, and live it. Wish me luck!

ADD Success Story - Songwriter, Esq.

Chucking a career to fulfill a creative calling probably remains a fantasy for many of us. But it's not every day that you hear about a law firm partner chucking his career to pursue his passion for songwriting. That's why I was especially delighted to read about Will Hopkins, featured last week as a Lawyer of the Day on the Wall Street Journal's Law Blog (say that ten times fast!). Will is one of the twenty finalists for the American Idol songwriting contest.

But wait, there's more. Will credits his ADD for his songwriting career:

"A doctor diagnosed me as having [attention deficit disorder] and suggested
I try Ritalin. In my mind it unleashed the creative gene again, and it was like
the light was back on. And I said, Dammit, do something with it this time."

If you do the math in the story about Will, you'll see that he had a successful career as an attorney, made partner at his firm, and then was diagnosed with ADD. I think that's like a lot of us ADDers who were diagnosed as adults. We created our lives, only to discover that there's a name for why we function the way that we do. And medication can give us that ability to focus on the talents and strengths that may have been tangled up all of these years.

I can't wait until May 20th to see if the Battle of the Davids features Will's song!

Take that, Tom Cruise!

At lunchtime today, a lady stopped me on the street to hand me a flyer.

"Would you like a personality test?"

Sheesh. I knew what this was all about. She's a frickin' Scientologist. So I cheerily replied:

"I don't think my psychiatrist would think that's a good idea."

In response, she snarked, "I bet he wouldn't!" (Oh snap! The flock must give all of the good lines to Tom.)

As an aside, her sexism appalled me. It's 2008; I'm a woman and the crazy Thetan's a woman. Why on earth would she assume that my psychiatrist is a man? In all fairness, my psychiatrist *is* a man. But still, that's a pretty big assumption! ;-)

Friend or Foe?

Welcome to all Experiencing ADDvantages readers!

When I started on Ritalin 2 years ago, I realized an interesting residual effect of being medicated: I made many poor choices in friendships.

Taking Ritalin felt like that last piece of one of those 1,000 piece jigsaw puzzles was finally put into place in my brain. I felt like a truly functioning human being. But as excited as I was about Ritalin, I only wanted to confide in a few trusted pals about it, including G. When she and I met several years ago, I think both of us thought the other was the sister that neither of us had. Both of us loved beauty products as much as we loved our favorite sports teams and flying to new vacation destinations.

The week before G. and I headed for a warm winter getaway, I excitedly shared my medication news with her. Immediately, the lollipops and rainbows in that conversation exited stage right. G. noticeably feigned enthusiam for my news, and the reason quickly became clear. She felt that I could easily manage my ADD with natural cures. And while not mentioning it directly, I could tell that she believed ADD to be a ficticious diagnosis.

Now, I don't think Tom Cruise and the Thetans got to G. before I broke my news. Nor is G. a skeptic about pharmaceuticals. In fact, she takes many of them herself. I explained to her that ADD isn't the just little kid that runs around the restaurant. It's also the adult who has never read a book in a Starbucks because the conversations and espresso machines derail one's train of thought.

I can't remember how our conversation ended that night, other than me feeling alienated and misunderstood. I swept the matter under the rug while we were away, and didn't raise it again for another 4 months. I decided to tell her how the ability to focus and concentrate had changed my life. She mentioned the natural cures yet again, and then remarked that my home must be really clean because one of the Desperate Housewives took Ritalin and then cleaned her entire McMansion in one fell swoop. When I told G. how Ritalin works on the ADD brain, she changed the subject on me. Within a couple of days, the friendship was over. It wasn't only because of the lack of support for my ADD. I'd also had enough of her passive-aggressiveness, which permeated our friendship.

Because my mind felt off and awkward for most of my existence, my self esteem had always resided at the lowest levels. I know for sure that's what kept me from saying anything in response to the hurtful remarks that G. had made to me even before I went on Ritalin. In some respects, I felt as if I was lucky to have any friends at all. As a result, I tended to befriend many people who fell into two camps: Camp Narcissist and Camp Commiserate. The former includes people who should be named Mimi, because that's all they talk about. And the latter includes fellow low self-esteemers who like you best when you're down in the dumps like them.

To be sure, I had chosen these folks as my friends. But now I realized that the friendships either had to change or cease to exist. In some cases, I indeed salvaged the friendships, and usually this came from talking about my struggles with ADD and how they affected my life. Many friends of mine had no idea how much I was trying to overcompensate for my distracted brain. But in a lot of other cases, the friendships had to die on the vine.

On the flip side, I treasure the friendships that I have. These pals enrich my life. To be honest, I'm also very cautious when making new friends. I'm not aloof with people; I easily make acquaintances. But I do consider whether the person will enrich my life or only cause grief. Oftentimes, I don't figure out the latter until a few months down the road. But fortunately, I've been spot-on about the former, and have forged some wonderful friendships since ADD-Day.

A couple months ago, I saw an excellent quote in a magazine from the actor Jack Black: "A friend is someone who doesn't f----n' want anything from you. Just wants to hang." Reading that reminded me of several people I know, which are the ones with whom I could sit on a park bench and drink a Slurpee and tell stories and just have a blast all afternoon. They're the ones that call to see if you're doing OK when you're feeling blah, and the ones whom you buy crazy regional snack foods for when you're travelling because you know how psyched they'll be to receive them. (Of course, vice versa on both accounts). After reading the quote, I dialed up a few pals and told them, "I just read something that reminded me of you..."

Ritalin and the Two Sides of Me

On Super Bowl Sunday, I celebrated my second aniversary of being Powered by Ritalin. When I reflect on the past couple of years, a recent compliment pops into my mind. A manager in one of my employer's main offices phoned me with accolades regarding how I handled a recent meeting. She also said she's noticed that my ability to take command in such meetings had catapulted in the past couple of years. Coincidence?

That manager's compliment sums up one side of me. I occasionally lead or participate in high-level meetings in which I must be clear, articulate, on my game, and thinking fast. Pre-Ritalin, I used to dread these situations because after a few minutes I would feel like I fell face first into a mud puddle because everything said in the meeting would just form a traffic jam in my brain.

Post-Ritalin, I relish these opportunities. I'm able to address what's being said, and even go off on tangents because I can easily return to my main points. Even better, I can do all of this with little effort. I've thus discovered my new ability to think on my feet. While other colleagues require detailed notes before they speak in public, I can expound for a while with just a few bullets.

But then there's the other side of me. This other side of me forgot to do laundry the night before one of these meetings last week. I realized well after midnight while I was still surfing the Internet that I had no clean hosiery to wear to the meeting in the morning. I quickly handwashed a pair and rolled it in a bath towel to speed up the drying process. However, I forgot to unroll the towel and hang up the hosiery before I went to bed. As a result, I had to blast my hair dryer on them so as not to don moist legwear. And though I knew what I planned to wear, I chose not to iron until the morning. I could have used the hosiery-drying and ironing time to eat breakfast. Instead, I arrived at the meeting with an empty belly and ample gratitude for the person who brought donuts.

Another one of the meetings involved overnight travel. Though I'd only be gone for a couple of days, I still could not decide what I wanted to wear. I partially attribute my indecision to a temporary post-Thanksgiving weight gain in all of the wrong places and not liking the way my clothes fit. I ended up going to bed at 3:30 in the morning without having my attire selected, and had to get up 2 hours later to catch my flight. I ended up packing my stuff right before I left for the airport, and the 10 minutes of crunch-time decision making worked out just fine. Had I curtailed the procrastination, I wouldn't have needed to frequently squirt drops in my red eyes, prop myself up with caffeine, or scarf down every carb that came within an arm's reach.

On the job, I'm able to keep the harried and frantic side of me hidden away. I show up for these professional confabs by presenting my poised, confident, and smartly attired. But on the inside, I feel as exhausted as someone who just finished a marathon because of all the hoops I make myself jump through to get myself out the door.

Shortly after becoming Powered by Ritalin, a former friend (I alluded to her in a previous post) expressed her skepticism about ADD in general. She mentioned that one of the characters on "Desperate Housewives" took her kid's Ritalin and then cleaned the house in one fell swoop. Then she asked if that was how the drug would affect me. If only! ADD drugs provide us with an ability to do things, not the discipline. I'll continue to muddle through the latter, because discipline doesn't come in pill form.