When it was first suggested to me that I had Adult Attention Deficit Disorder, my knee jerk reaction was, “Hmmm? What did you say? I wasn't paying attention...” (Whacka whacka!!) Sorry. Part of MY ADD involves losing myself behind humor and not nescessarily GOOD humor! Another part of my ADD is self deprecation.
ANYWAY!!!
When I first learned that I might have this. (Still it bothers me to have to say I HAVE something... oh no, I'm not PERFECT!)
It made sense to me. It was suggested I go look at some books on the subject and a couple were suggested to me. Ok, first of all, when a BOOK is suggested to someone with ADD, they might as well say to a blind person, the cure for your blindness is at the end of this maze... I flipped through a couple of the books. Some of it made sense... didn't like that there weren't pictures or illustrations in the book and that it was just text... uninteresting and unappealing visually.... but they had a book to tape version and so I got that and listened to it and it made sense.
So, we rolled up our sleeves, my therapist and I and began clinical testing for ADD. He warned me that the tests would exhaust me. My brain would be tired. I didn't quite understand this concept as my brain never seemed tired but always WIRED. So I began the tests over a couple of sessions. They were long and boring and logic based and visually based and yes after I did the tests, my brain was wiped out. It's hard to describe. When your body, your legs, arms, THOSE parts of your body get tired, you can feel it and understand it. But the mind being tired is deep and weird. Being a musician and having worked on recordings, spending all day listening to playback after playback, my ears would get tired and that is a very odd thing. You truly can't make your ears work like they should. You can still HEAR things but it turns into jumble. You can't pick out the details like you could when you have clean slate ears. Same thing with tired eyes. A tired mind is in a way kind of relaxing. I had never felt my mind shut down the way it did. It was kind of relaxing and nice. It was a break from the chaotic state my mind was usually in.
So, the test results were tabulated and I had ADD.
So I began to learn about it. It made sense to me. I started taking ritalin. What I didn't do was research. I guess I felt that now that I knew what was going on with me and that I could talk about it to my therapist and that I was taking a magical pill everything would be fine. It was fine for awhile. What it did was wake me up. I felt like I had awakened from a long dream and suddenly saw my reality. Also knowing that it wasn't just me being a scatterbrained ditz-bag I could back myself up when things got out of control. But I didn't do any further reading on the subject. Actually at that time there wasn't so much to read. I didn't think of going into any kind of group discussion with other ADD people. But perhaps the time wasn't right. I had to live with it for awhile.
And so I did.
It wasn't until just these last months, having gone solo for almost a year without therapy and taking my ritalin day after day that I hit a ceiling and realized that things were flat-lining. I was STILL scattered, un-productive, angry, frustrated... it was almost as if the three MOVES I did in that time were tests to push me to a point where I had to seek more information and more help.
So now I am back in therapy. I am reading some great books on the subject. I have a great physician who is very interested in helping me get myself chemicaly balanced. Things are on the up and up.
The more knowledge you have the more power you have.
The more questions you ask, the more knowledge you can attain. Just reading doesn't do it, you have to ask specific questions. With my new therapist, I have asked questions, trying to distinguish the different TYPES of ADD. It's not a black and white thing. One never has a cookie cutter version of anything.
He described to me the version of ADD in which all of your “files” are always in the front of your mind. THAT was a major breakthrough, “ah-ha” moment. That was a perfect description of my brain. No wonder I wanted a file cabinet when I was in second grade. But just having the cabinet will work, you have to know HOW to do the filing.
Filing can be confusing because there are so many ways that you can do it. You can file alphabetically, you can assign date related numbers to your files, you can file by category... I always liked the idea and the immediacy and ease of filing things alphabetically until ofcourse something began with THE. Visually, I like to see color and sections, logical sections put together. But that is tangible outside files, the files I have in my desk. I used a system (that word again) called “File Solutions” that works well as long as you don't get in the way and overcomplicate it.
But the challenge is how to put all of my “thought files” away... away and in the back of my head where they need to be. Some of these files that still are in my forefront shouldn't even be easily attainable. Most of these files though are memories of experiences that trigger negative feelings. The other day being stood up for example made me realize how many of those similar negative file memories are still in the front of my head. They are moments of my life that occured and I never ever took the time to get over them or heal them. It's sad because most everyone else associated with those moments has moved on and wouldn't even remember the event. But I do. It's as if I have a clog and the gunk won't go away, it won't pass through and my mind is like a swamp. A yucky slimy bog that stinks too. (get the pic?)
BUT when the smell finally GETS to you and makes you feel incapacitated, THEN you do something about it, right?
So what I think I could do is to take each one of these memories, these moments in my life and start to heal. Face the moments for what they really DID to me and go back and SAVE the me that was hurt at the time and felt that there was nobody who would understand my hurt and want to help. Much of my hurt at that time was because I was dealing with being gay. I could seek my older sisters council but she didn't really understand the depth of it. She would always tell me to just get over it and move on. A LOT of people would tell me that. “GET OVER IT” was kind of a catch phrase when I was in College. I think it was the pre-cursor of “Just Do It”. So, ok, I would “get over it” but not really. I would move forward but the emotion of the hurtful moment would keep me connected to the moment and the more experiences I would have that were similar would exasperate the original hurt. Hurt piles up after awhile and when you seek ways to avoid the hurt feelings and “go with the flow” and “chill out” you THINK that you are appeasing the pain but you aren't. You are just putting it off. You are procrastinating. Someday it will catch up to you again. Some day twenty or so years later something will happen that triggers that old memory and you realize that you have been STILL attached to that hurt and anger after all of these years.
It makes me wonder what it has done as far as stunting not just my emotional growth but my physical growth as well. I have a lot of body tension. I used to say that I was always tense because I liked getting back rubs. But ofcourse that isn't the case. I have always had a difficult time letting go. The only times I could totally let go was by seeking “medicinal” means to do so. I used to say that I smoked pot to give myself a break from having to be me. I would agree with others that yes, I WAS uptight. It was something that ran in the family. My Dad was always high strung. Oh well, I guess I was too... BUT THAT ISN'T the case.
MY uptight feelings were rooted in self dissatisfaction. I was primed as a pre-teen by my OTHER sister that I was physically unattractive, that I was a fem, that I was so gross and skinny. Yes, can you imagine? Skinny at that time apparantly meant that you were gross. She would use the word gross so freely and she really made me feel awkward and terrible. I am not blaming her completely, but at that time and knowing that I was gay, I equated gross skinny and fem with ME. Yes, I knew that I WAS that way because I was gay. It was what I felt WAS the problem. And it WAS me. I knew it. I was freaked, I had to keep the secret. I HATED secrets and I had a whopper. So I had to avoid getting upset about things and issues related to being gay.
“Why are you so upset?” would be asked of me and I would say that it was nothing because if I talked about it, if I exposed it, the jig would be up and I would have to face the unknown consequences of being gay. At that time, all I ever heard in relation to being gay was that it was bad, it was terrible, sick all those nice words. I actually had family members point fingers at me and FORBID me from ever being THAT WAY. Any mention of gay on TV was laughed at and ridiculed. As funny as Paul Lynde was I saw him as kind of sad and lonely and isolated. I didn't want to be a clown.
So I got in the habit of non-communication. But I acted out by being promiscuous and wearing my heart on my sleeve and allowing anyone and everyone to BE better than me and more important than me. When I would HAVE my moments of success in life, I always felt that they were fleeting and that I had to make sure that everyone agreed that I WAS good and talented... I became needy and self obsessed. I didn't like to talk about myself because I didn't want people to think that I was full of myself. But I WAS full of myself and had no means to tap it or file it away. It just kept adding up and piling up.
It's all in my head.
Yes.
That is the problem.
I have a physical image of my head in the forefront and that behind me and not nescessarily IN my head is the warehouse where all of these memories can go. When someone says they put it behind them, they actually DO put it behind them in the warehouse that is not just in the back of the head but behind them. On a metaphysical level, there must be some kind of energy that is behind us and that exists and follows us and is always available to us. My energy is a great empty source. What would happen if I DID put those memories back there? Perhaps they would mellow and fade a bit and if I did need to access them in my creative work, I could and they would be different. They would have perspective. It's hard to gain any kind of perspective when it's all up front.
Nobody can leave the past behind. If they think that they can they are kidding themselves.
The past is useful. But it should be there to use. It shouldn't USE you.
When something seems to take on a life of it's own, that is because you are not dealing with it completely. Things that get out of control do so because they are not attended to in the moment. ANYTHING gets out of control when it is not monitored. A water faucet on full with a plugged up sink will in a short time turn your home into a disaster.
So imagine what happens if you just leave your emotional faucet running for years and years.
I am accused of being UN-emotional. But when I DO cry I sob and sob. I have a handful of movies that will make me cry. Sometimes I watch them just TO cry.
So, it's either that I have put a stopper in my emotions or that I have just let them go without supervision that I am at a point in my life where I am numb.
I was telling Jason the other day that one of things about my personality (and I am certain that this TOO is an ADD by-product) but I sometimes just feel apathy towards everything. I don't care. I don't care about my family, don't care about my career, I don't CARE about HIM!!! And I KNOW that I DO care but something is blocking me from exposing that part of myself and sharing that part of myself.
KNOWING it is the first step.
Time to heal. Time to begin caring not just for myself but for the world and world around me that I have created and that is a part of my life. One step at a time.