I've read recently on a couple of blogs that the term "ADDer" has been deemed offensive by some folks. I've seen it referred to as a "cultlike" term (like perhaps, Scientologist? Heaven's Gate? Jim Jones?). I also saw it pronounced as un-PC, in the "I'm not just my ADD" manner.
Wow. I had no idea that a term that others have considered a term that I've often used to be so derogatory.
As you might expect, I also have an opinion on the subject: if you're looking for a cause to fight for, this isn't a worthy one. Feeding the homeless and saving the environment? Worthy. Offended by the "ADDer" label? Not worthy. In fact, I think that worrying about "ADDer" is what Cheryl Richardson called a first-world problem, meaning it's something that garners concern when we have all of the trappings of a comfortable life as opposed to people in third-world nations.
I don't mean to turn this into a "eat your peas because children are starving in Africa" lecture. Quite the opposite, actually. Count me as someone who proudly wears the ADDer monniker.
Is there more to me than my ADD? Of course! I'm a spicy snack food afficionado, a loyal and patient friend, and an American Idol addict. And those labels just scratch the surface. Unless you're Madonna, Cher, or Prince, one word will never describe the entirety of you.
But after being on this planet for 37 years, discovering that I am an ADDer was the best thing that could ever happen to me that didn't involve George Clooney. For the first time ever, I could focus, listen, and pay attention. I've heard many stories from my inattentive ADD childhood of absorbing myself in books instead of playing with the other kids. I learned to overcompensate in school and worked my tail off to get really good grades, only to crash and burn on any exam that included reading comprehension, including the SATs. I suffered through hundreds and hundreds of pages of reading every week in graduate school, but couldn't remember a word of what I'd read, which in part compelled me to leave my program. At work, I would still be in the office at 9:00PM working on a simple assignment by desk lamp because our office powered down the overhead lights at 8:00PM because nobody was expected to be in the building. And along the way I lost all too many things: money, friendships, sleep, keys, and the list goes on.
I come from a family of tidy morning people who are always 10 minutes early and can focus like a microscope. Interestingly, many of my friends also fit that description. As a result, I've felt out in left field for most of my life. One of the reasons that I write this blog is to have some sort of connection with other ADDers out there. After all, we're the only ones who know what it's like to be inside of our own heads. For me, having the label of ADDer provides me a connection to others to which nobody in my offline life can relate. And that's a label that I'm glad to have.
Showing posts with label support. Show all posts
Showing posts with label support. Show all posts
Monday, April 14, 2008
Sunday, March 2, 2008
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..."
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..."
Wednesday, February 6, 2008
We can be "Heroes"...
(note: if you've not yet seen season one of "Heroes" and want to avoid any potential minor spoilers, please skip this post!)
I recently started watching season one of "Heroes" and immediately became hooked. Thus far, I've watched about half a dozen episodes, so I'm still at the point where the heroes are realizing that they possess special powers. Discovering their powers bewilders the heroes. Furthermore, the heroes who share their knowledge with others fail to find understanding among the "normal" folk. So, even though the heroes can do cool stuff such as fly or regenerate parts of their own bodies or travel into the future, they feel abnormal. They only begin to appreciate their amazing abilities when they meet the other heroes.
Therein lies the reason why I love this show. This show has made me think a lot lately of my ADD "assets" as superpowers. Because my ADD wasn't diagnosed until adulthood, I can relate to feeling different than other people and not knowing why I can't be just like them and be able to pay attention, not blurt out what's on my mind, or space out at inappropriate times. True, ADD doesn't give me the ability to see tomorrow's newspaper for the lottery numbers and allow me to retire before I'm 40. However, ADD's given me the ability to think on my feet, which is a huge asset in my career. ADD helps me realize my true talents and abilities by letting me hyperfocus on them. And ADD plants creative ideas in my head like dandelions in a roadside field.
It's not been an easy road for me to view the positives with ADD. In some cases, it's been a lonely one, just as it's been for the heroes. I've felt misunderstood for a good portion of my life for not being a neatnik like the rest of the family. It's delayed promotions at work, caused sleep deficits, and even ended a friendship (though in retrospect, that may have been for the best). It wasn't until I finally started getting support - from close friends, my old therapist, my coach, and my drug doc - did I realize that I could view ADD as a positive.
New research actually proves the importance of support. Last week, the New York Times' health blog discussed a journal article on the perspectives of children with ADD. Not surprisingly, the article's titled "I Have Always Felt Different," and is based on interviews with college students who were diagnosed with ADD as children. One line in the conclusion certainly rang true for me: "A strong theme throughout these interviews was the value of being understood and supported."
I still have a lot more episodes of "Heroes" to enjoy, and I'm looking forward to seeing how the show unfolds. In the meantime, we folks with ADD should try to embrace the positives that the disorder provides. I certainly have a hard time doing this myself. But with the right support, our gifts can benefit the world, just like the heroes' gifts.
I recently started watching season one of "Heroes" and immediately became hooked. Thus far, I've watched about half a dozen episodes, so I'm still at the point where the heroes are realizing that they possess special powers. Discovering their powers bewilders the heroes. Furthermore, the heroes who share their knowledge with others fail to find understanding among the "normal" folk. So, even though the heroes can do cool stuff such as fly or regenerate parts of their own bodies or travel into the future, they feel abnormal. They only begin to appreciate their amazing abilities when they meet the other heroes.
Therein lies the reason why I love this show. This show has made me think a lot lately of my ADD "assets" as superpowers. Because my ADD wasn't diagnosed until adulthood, I can relate to feeling different than other people and not knowing why I can't be just like them and be able to pay attention, not blurt out what's on my mind, or space out at inappropriate times. True, ADD doesn't give me the ability to see tomorrow's newspaper for the lottery numbers and allow me to retire before I'm 40. However, ADD's given me the ability to think on my feet, which is a huge asset in my career. ADD helps me realize my true talents and abilities by letting me hyperfocus on them. And ADD plants creative ideas in my head like dandelions in a roadside field.
It's not been an easy road for me to view the positives with ADD. In some cases, it's been a lonely one, just as it's been for the heroes. I've felt misunderstood for a good portion of my life for not being a neatnik like the rest of the family. It's delayed promotions at work, caused sleep deficits, and even ended a friendship (though in retrospect, that may have been for the best). It wasn't until I finally started getting support - from close friends, my old therapist, my coach, and my drug doc - did I realize that I could view ADD as a positive.
New research actually proves the importance of support. Last week, the New York Times' health blog discussed a journal article on the perspectives of children with ADD. Not surprisingly, the article's titled "I Have Always Felt Different," and is based on interviews with college students who were diagnosed with ADD as children. One line in the conclusion certainly rang true for me: "A strong theme throughout these interviews was the value of being understood and supported."
I still have a lot more episodes of "Heroes" to enjoy, and I'm looking forward to seeing how the show unfolds. In the meantime, we folks with ADD should try to embrace the positives that the disorder provides. I certainly have a hard time doing this myself. But with the right support, our gifts can benefit the world, just like the heroes' gifts.
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