Hi. Here I am!
Unlike my recent post about being one's own best friend, my lack of updates lately can't be attributed to any magnitude of self-loathing. Rather, I've been plagued by a bout of indifference lately. I'd start a blog post or six and write a portion of it. Before I could finish, apathy would overtake me.
That's strange behavior for me for several reasons. One, I really like writing this blog. Two, I have an opinion on pretty much everything. Even if I lack interest in something, I have an opinion as to why I don't care. Three, I know for sure that I'm not depressed, because I know what being depressed feels like. And I'm not in denial about being depressed, either, because (believe me) I considered that. In many other aspects of my life, I'm genuinely happy.
My case of the "I don't knows" and the "whatevers" seemed to start several weeks ago when my ADD coach and I started talking about a career change for me. She has posed a number of questions to think about concerning career stuff, and oftentimes I replied with "I have no idea" or something to that effect. Seeking for a new opportunity is kind of a big deal. I've been at my job for several years, and to a large degree, I enjoy what I do. But life at the employer's much less than ideal. I've done what I've been able to try to improve my situation, but On most mornings, I debate calling in sick but decide not to because I'll have to have to return to the office the following day anyway.
Given that I know what I like to do professionally and my current situation stinks like discount sushi, you'd think that I'd be papering the city with my resume. Instead, I've been doing little thinking about getting a new job, much less applying for a new one.
My indifference nagged at me for weeks, and I decided to investigate its source by journaling about it. But Little Miss Motivated put off writing all week. On Saturday, I tucked my journal into my purse as I headed out on errands, and insisted to myself that I sit down and write while I was out. After grabbing some lunch, I pulled out the journal and bargained with myself that I could put away the journal after I wrote for 15 minutes.
Instead, I wrote for 40 minutes and filled seven pages. I started off with the question of why I've been so indecisive about all things career. But amazingly, my writing veered into a direction I never imagined. I ended up writing about a relationship I had that didn't work for me, which I tolerated for a number of years. Just like the job, I would try to improve things, but my needs felt on deaf ears. Ultimately, sticking up for myself resulted in the end of the relationship. And you know what? The end of that relationship was probably the one of the best things that could have happened for me.
I never realized how much my job was akin to that relationship. In both cases, things weren't terrible. But they weren't great, either. And over time, after trying to do what I could to remedy each situation, I just got used to the way things were. Even though the job and the relationship aren't/weren't doing much for me, I got comfortable with them.
And therein lies the problem. For me, getting too comfortable is the eighth deadly sin. I possess a healthy competitive streak, and if I'm not constantly learning something or achieving something on any scale, I get dormant. And blah. And...yes, indifferent. The achieving part of my job left the building quite a while ago. But why have I stayed? Well, there's the paycheck. And the work's pretty interesting for the most part. I'm also pretty good at what I do, so for me it's a secure and comfortable situation.
But there's also a wee part of me, despite the competitive streak, that typically feels that I can't do better than the current situation that I'm in. That this job is as good as it gets. I know that I get this feeling when I know it's time to make a necessary change. Indeed, that's how I felt about the relationship that's no longer. And that's probably why, in my journal, I described being so comfortable as "a very deadly illness". A page later, I knew I'd finished sorting things out in my head when a powerful sentence spilled onto the page:
"Always remember that doing the thing or making the choice that is outside of the comfortable is going to be what brings you closer to being the ultimate, wonderful person who you know that you are."
To be honest, typing an entire line from my journal into this post felt risky and revealing because I know that people other than me would be reading it. But I know that every time I push myself to take a risk, the rewards pay off nicely. And now, I think I'm ready to take more leaps.
Friday, March 28, 2008
Sunday, March 9, 2008
A victory of Olympic-sized proportions!
As Day One of Daylight Savings Time draws to a close, I have achieved the unthinkable. All timepieces in my home accurately reflect the correct time! Here's the play by play, in the order of victory:
Cable box: automatically at 2:00AM
Bedroom clock: when I went to bed (yes, after 2:00AM!)
Stove clock: late in the morning after washing dishes
Sports watch: before switching to my dress watch
Dress watch: halfway through the afternoon
Bathroom wall clock: at around 10:30PM
And I didn't need to change the clock on the answering machine because I never changed the time last fall!
Normally, this process takes me days, or sometimes more than a week. Check out the video to see how fantastic I feel about this!
Cable box: automatically at 2:00AM
Bedroom clock: when I went to bed (yes, after 2:00AM!)
Stove clock: late in the morning after washing dishes
Sports watch: before switching to my dress watch
Dress watch: halfway through the afternoon
Bathroom wall clock: at around 10:30PM
And I didn't need to change the clock on the answering machine because I never changed the time last fall!
Normally, this process takes me days, or sometimes more than a week. Check out the video to see how fantastic I feel about this!
Monday, March 3, 2008
Snakes on a Brain
(Note: I realize that many people have extreme fears of reptiles. If this applies to you, please skip this article!)
Last week, I took a little break after making substantial headway on one of my latest tasks at work. The excellent Mark Morford had a new column, so I surfed over to the San Francisco Chronicle’s Web site. As I enjoyed Mark’s latest musings, a title in the “most read” box got my attention:
New threat to our way of life: giant pythons
Wow.
Here’s America’s real threat. Forget the tanking economy, disappearing glaciers, and terrorist cells. Oh yeah, and forget my work. A new cause celebre had commandeered my thought processes, especially with this quote from a government geologist:
"We have not yet identified something that would stop their spreading to the Bay Area."
Did I mention that the giant pythons currently reside in the Everglades? You know, in Florida, diagonally across the country from San Francisco?
Naturally, I’m creeped out by the story. But forget that. The logistics of potential migration of giant pythons to northern California fascinated me. By my underestimation, I spent the next several minutes on my employer’s dime trying to figure out how the giant pythons would get to the Bay Area. Obviously, they wouldn’t take I-10 to the 101 because they can’t drive. And they don’t have identification, so forget about flying. (Plus, it’s been done before.) Amtrak now requires ID, so the train’s out, too.
Or suppose the giant pythons wanted to go it alone. How would they cross the Rockies? They lack the necessary hands, feet, or paws for scaling the mountains.
This story was too important for me to keep it to myself, so I shared it two guys I work with. Not surprisingly, H. made some silly analogy about men being pythons and women being rattlesnakes. Citing a line from the article, I actually agreed with him:
Lifestyle: When young, the pythons spend much of their time in trees. In adulthood, their weight makes tree-climbing too difficult.
Next, I mentioned to S. that perhaps the military could consider drafting the giant pythons as a secret weapon. S. claimed that my idea wouldn’t work because it lacks the element of surprise. To which I remarked:
“You wouldn’t be surprised if a giant python came after you?”
When I went out at lunchtime, I reflected on my question to S. What would I do if confronted by the beasts? First of all, I’d scream like a little girl. And I’d run, of course. But the shoes I was wearing weren’t conducive to escaping from giant pythons. I could perhaps kick off my shoes, then run into a building and take the stairs to the highest floor. That’s the best option I could think of. I’m quite proud of my plan because I’m now prepared for what seems like the inevitable.
Back in the office, all thoughts of giant pythons slithered from my head. A new assignment and an upcoming conference call fortunately brought my focus back to work. I’m lucky that I got in gear so quickly, because on other days, I’d need a giant python chasing me to do some work.
Last week, I took a little break after making substantial headway on one of my latest tasks at work. The excellent Mark Morford had a new column, so I surfed over to the San Francisco Chronicle’s Web site. As I enjoyed Mark’s latest musings, a title in the “most read” box got my attention:
New threat to our way of life: giant pythons
Wow.
Here’s America’s real threat. Forget the tanking economy, disappearing glaciers, and terrorist cells. Oh yeah, and forget my work. A new cause celebre had commandeered my thought processes, especially with this quote from a government geologist:
"We have not yet identified something that would stop their spreading to the Bay Area."
Did I mention that the giant pythons currently reside in the Everglades? You know, in Florida, diagonally across the country from San Francisco?
Naturally, I’m creeped out by the story. But forget that. The logistics of potential migration of giant pythons to northern California fascinated me. By my underestimation, I spent the next several minutes on my employer’s dime trying to figure out how the giant pythons would get to the Bay Area. Obviously, they wouldn’t take I-10 to the 101 because they can’t drive. And they don’t have identification, so forget about flying. (Plus, it’s been done before.) Amtrak now requires ID, so the train’s out, too.
Or suppose the giant pythons wanted to go it alone. How would they cross the Rockies? They lack the necessary hands, feet, or paws for scaling the mountains.
This story was too important for me to keep it to myself, so I shared it two guys I work with. Not surprisingly, H. made some silly analogy about men being pythons and women being rattlesnakes. Citing a line from the article, I actually agreed with him:
Lifestyle: When young, the pythons spend much of their time in trees. In adulthood, their weight makes tree-climbing too difficult.
Next, I mentioned to S. that perhaps the military could consider drafting the giant pythons as a secret weapon. S. claimed that my idea wouldn’t work because it lacks the element of surprise. To which I remarked:
“You wouldn’t be surprised if a giant python came after you?”
When I went out at lunchtime, I reflected on my question to S. What would I do if confronted by the beasts? First of all, I’d scream like a little girl. And I’d run, of course. But the shoes I was wearing weren’t conducive to escaping from giant pythons. I could perhaps kick off my shoes, then run into a building and take the stairs to the highest floor. That’s the best option I could think of. I’m quite proud of my plan because I’m now prepared for what seems like the inevitable.
Back in the office, all thoughts of giant pythons slithered from my head. A new assignment and an upcoming conference call fortunately brought my focus back to work. I’m lucky that I got in gear so quickly, because on other days, I’d need a giant python chasing me to do some work.
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..."
Sunday, February 24, 2008
Being our own best friend
I started realizing in the past couple of weeks that people are reading what I have to say on this blog. Sweet! I'm delighted to have an audience for my words and experiences, and am glad y'all are along for the ride.
I've found one downside that unfortunately comes with knowing that an audience exists. It's not you, dear reader; it's me. Over the past week, I've had an idea or two each day that I wanted to blog about. But each time that I fired up my computer and started writing about my fabulous idea, it babbled on with no end or I couldn't remember my original point. Showing my true colors as a person with ADD, I saved the post as a draft with the intent on returning to it later and posting it on the blog. Of course, it didn't happen. Because I was looking to create some sort of masterpiece, I continued to procrastinate.
Also characteristic of ADD-me, I got irritated with myself about not finishing my writings. Now, I know that doing that is counter-productive. Would I tell a blogger friend who hadn't published all week for the same reasons that s/he needs to get in gear? I wouldn't, because I know that writing is a personal thing for everyone and harping on someone to blog won't help matters.
When I sat down to write this, the only things I had in mind we contained in the first two paragraph. My goal with writing this post was just to update the blog and procrastinate no longer. Indeed, I've achieved that goal :-)
But interestingly, after I wrote the paragraph beginning with "also characteristic," which seemed to roll off from my fingers onto the keyboard, I realized how much of a dark cloud I'd put above my head concerning my writing. I actually felt better after writing that paragraph, because it made me think of the unnecessary pressure I'd put upon myself. I shouldn't do that, and neither should you. By having ADD, we have enough to handle. Why mentally pummel ourselves when we haven't achieved some goal with an adjustable bar?
This reminds me of a little story. A few years ago, I did my friend E.'s makeup on her wedding day. Because of a delay at the hair salon where she was getting her updo, she arrived at the chapel only half an hour before the ceremony. She still had to get dressed and I still had to apply her maquillage. While I was applying her makeup, she wanted me to do it quickly and even suggested skipping some of the products. I mentioned to my dear friend that doing everything properly and without rushing would only take maybe an additional 5 minutes. I also mentioned that I'd never been to a wedding that started exactly on the time of the invitation. But more importantly, the wedding doesn't start without the bride.
E. relaxed after I said that. She and I then enjoyed our precious minutes of girl bonding before the I-do's. The wedding was perfectly lovely, and I know for sure that nobody knew or cared that the wedding began a few minutes late.
So, the next time you or I think about how we have that pile of papers to go through or how we left the left the house a few minutes later than we were supposed to, or how we have to resort to take-out yet again because we forgot to grocery shop because we have no idea what we need to buy, let's think about where that pressure's coming from. The only person who we know for sure will be with us every moment of our lives is ourself. We may as well be a friend to that great person.
I've found one downside that unfortunately comes with knowing that an audience exists. It's not you, dear reader; it's me. Over the past week, I've had an idea or two each day that I wanted to blog about. But each time that I fired up my computer and started writing about my fabulous idea, it babbled on with no end or I couldn't remember my original point. Showing my true colors as a person with ADD, I saved the post as a draft with the intent on returning to it later and posting it on the blog. Of course, it didn't happen. Because I was looking to create some sort of masterpiece, I continued to procrastinate.
Also characteristic of ADD-me, I got irritated with myself about not finishing my writings. Now, I know that doing that is counter-productive. Would I tell a blogger friend who hadn't published all week for the same reasons that s/he needs to get in gear? I wouldn't, because I know that writing is a personal thing for everyone and harping on someone to blog won't help matters.
When I sat down to write this, the only things I had in mind we contained in the first two paragraph. My goal with writing this post was just to update the blog and procrastinate no longer. Indeed, I've achieved that goal :-)
But interestingly, after I wrote the paragraph beginning with "also characteristic," which seemed to roll off from my fingers onto the keyboard, I realized how much of a dark cloud I'd put above my head concerning my writing. I actually felt better after writing that paragraph, because it made me think of the unnecessary pressure I'd put upon myself. I shouldn't do that, and neither should you. By having ADD, we have enough to handle. Why mentally pummel ourselves when we haven't achieved some goal with an adjustable bar?
This reminds me of a little story. A few years ago, I did my friend E.'s makeup on her wedding day. Because of a delay at the hair salon where she was getting her updo, she arrived at the chapel only half an hour before the ceremony. She still had to get dressed and I still had to apply her maquillage. While I was applying her makeup, she wanted me to do it quickly and even suggested skipping some of the products. I mentioned to my dear friend that doing everything properly and without rushing would only take maybe an additional 5 minutes. I also mentioned that I'd never been to a wedding that started exactly on the time of the invitation. But more importantly, the wedding doesn't start without the bride.
E. relaxed after I said that. She and I then enjoyed our precious minutes of girl bonding before the I-do's. The wedding was perfectly lovely, and I know for sure that nobody knew or cared that the wedding began a few minutes late.
So, the next time you or I think about how we have that pile of papers to go through or how we left the left the house a few minutes later than we were supposed to, or how we have to resort to take-out yet again because we forgot to grocery shop because we have no idea what we need to buy, let's think about where that pressure's coming from. The only person who we know for sure will be with us every moment of our lives is ourself. We may as well be a friend to that great person.
Friday, February 15, 2008
Unplugged!
(Note: Welcome to all readers who linked from the ADHD Blog Carnival!)
I spent the last several days on a much needed break from my everyday life. Usually at this time of year, I've jetted off to somewhere warm for respite from the winter weather. But this time, I headed to a holisitc-ish retreat center that's a few hours away from home.
It wasn't so much the meditation and yoga that attracted me to the place. Rather, I relished the thought of being in simple surroundings with no TV, newspapers, or Internet. Part of me -- the ADD part, of course -- did worry about being bored, and so I brought three books, three magazines, and two journals. I guess I had big plans to write the great American novel or ADD-Libbing posts for the next six months! One duffel bag contained everything I needed for the week. Before I left home on Sunday, I kept thinking I would run out of clothes, and so I stuffed in some extra things at the last minute.
The retreat was perfect for clearing my mind. My room faced east, and I enjoyed waking gently to the sunrise each morning. I ate plenty of healthy food, and they nicely offer two kinds of hot sauce for people like me to add some much needed spice. I didn't find myself thinking about the mindless media minutiae, such as Britney's latest antics. I learned a bit about aromatherapy, which I always wanted to know more about. I met a couple of some fun new people I plan to stay in touch with, and I fit in some exercise, too.
Of course, after a few days, I began to miss some parts of my regular life. A couple of days into the retreat, I holed up to make a few cell phone calls home to get connected to people I missed. The following day, I decided that I needed to reconnect a bit with the rest of civilization, and ducked out in the afternoon to visit a little local museum and buy a pair of shoes. Oh yeah, and I happily treated myself to a real cup of coffee - they definitely watered down the organic, shade-grown, fair trade stuff that they served only between certain hours. I definitely felt even more recharged after my afternoon excursion.
Being disconnected from TV, news, and Internet was definitely a great thing for my ADD mind. I wondered a bit about what emails I might be missing, but otherwise, the urge to get myself online dissipated. As for all of the reading and writing material that I brought, I finished two of the three magazines, got a third of the way through one book, and definitely did not fill up wither journal. Seeing how much I didn't read made me think about how much we try to pack into our stimulated ADD brains (i.e., a lot!). I always worry that I'm going to be bored, and so I cart along way too much stuff to prevent boredom.
I've two takeaways from my time away. One, I'm definitely going to try to have time that's free of TV, news, and Internet. I know that this will be difficult for me. It's one thing to be somewhere that lacks these things, another to be at home with my computer and TV staring me in the face. I definitely felt energized by not getting sucked into these things while I was away, and so I'd like to maintain this energy.
Two, being in my simple surroundings gave me a renewed desire to work on clearing my clutter. I found it easy to get by for several days with just one bag of clothes and toiletries. And oftentimes when I'm at home, I feel psychologically weighted down by all of the stuff in my home that I don't use or really care about. This weekend, I'm going to list a bunch of things on Freecycle and also bag some stuff for charity.
If I can do both of these things, I can have the best of both worlds: a clutter-free environment AND TV and Internet available at my disposal for (hopefully!) healthy periods of time.
I spent the last several days on a much needed break from my everyday life. Usually at this time of year, I've jetted off to somewhere warm for respite from the winter weather. But this time, I headed to a holisitc-ish retreat center that's a few hours away from home.
It wasn't so much the meditation and yoga that attracted me to the place. Rather, I relished the thought of being in simple surroundings with no TV, newspapers, or Internet. Part of me -- the ADD part, of course -- did worry about being bored, and so I brought three books, three magazines, and two journals. I guess I had big plans to write the great American novel or ADD-Libbing posts for the next six months! One duffel bag contained everything I needed for the week. Before I left home on Sunday, I kept thinking I would run out of clothes, and so I stuffed in some extra things at the last minute.
The retreat was perfect for clearing my mind. My room faced east, and I enjoyed waking gently to the sunrise each morning. I ate plenty of healthy food, and they nicely offer two kinds of hot sauce for people like me to add some much needed spice. I didn't find myself thinking about the mindless media minutiae, such as Britney's latest antics. I learned a bit about aromatherapy, which I always wanted to know more about. I met a couple of some fun new people I plan to stay in touch with, and I fit in some exercise, too.
Of course, after a few days, I began to miss some parts of my regular life. A couple of days into the retreat, I holed up to make a few cell phone calls home to get connected to people I missed. The following day, I decided that I needed to reconnect a bit with the rest of civilization, and ducked out in the afternoon to visit a little local museum and buy a pair of shoes. Oh yeah, and I happily treated myself to a real cup of coffee - they definitely watered down the organic, shade-grown, fair trade stuff that they served only between certain hours. I definitely felt even more recharged after my afternoon excursion.
Being disconnected from TV, news, and Internet was definitely a great thing for my ADD mind. I wondered a bit about what emails I might be missing, but otherwise, the urge to get myself online dissipated. As for all of the reading and writing material that I brought, I finished two of the three magazines, got a third of the way through one book, and definitely did not fill up wither journal. Seeing how much I didn't read made me think about how much we try to pack into our stimulated ADD brains (i.e., a lot!). I always worry that I'm going to be bored, and so I cart along way too much stuff to prevent boredom.
I've two takeaways from my time away. One, I'm definitely going to try to have time that's free of TV, news, and Internet. I know that this will be difficult for me. It's one thing to be somewhere that lacks these things, another to be at home with my computer and TV staring me in the face. I definitely felt energized by not getting sucked into these things while I was away, and so I'd like to maintain this energy.
Two, being in my simple surroundings gave me a renewed desire to work on clearing my clutter. I found it easy to get by for several days with just one bag of clothes and toiletries. And oftentimes when I'm at home, I feel psychologically weighted down by all of the stuff in my home that I don't use or really care about. This weekend, I'm going to list a bunch of things on Freecycle and also bag some stuff for charity.
If I can do both of these things, I can have the best of both worlds: a clutter-free environment AND TV and Internet available at my disposal for (hopefully!) healthy periods of time.
Saturday, February 9, 2008
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.
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.
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