I’ve lost 15 excess pounds. I’ve gone off anti-depressants. I seem to have quit engaging in “shopping therapy.” I’ve gone back to cooking on a fairly regular basis. I’ve started taking lovely care of my fingernails, even though that means seeing someone every two weeks for professional treatments.
Funny how these things work.
Yesterday I saw Jimmy Carter. Today I was incompletely quoted in the newspaper published from our state’s capital city, and while what what they included was fine, they left out the best part. This evening, I had three “bar” shots of Tequila (which I haven’t done in quite a long time) , at home in the safety of my own kitchen and they knocked me on my virtual posterior.
I must say that I’m not much impressed with myself.
This morning I got up and grabbed the cell phone to clip on my hip as usual. Then I realized that it was not, technically, required this morning. I smiled, because it reminded me that, this morning, two people were free. My father died in the small hours yesterday morning. If there’s any mercy in this universe, he is free of the demons which plagued him all his life. I’m now free to remember the times they didn’t stand between us.
Author’s note: The caps, exclamation points, italics and bold are an indication of the volume of my own voice screaming inside my head.
Here’s how it went:
I read an excellent and informative paragraph on DEA classifications of ADD meds (posted on a message board) which concluded with, “When taken orally at the prescribed dosages, these drugs have great medical value and rarely produce any sort of high. But make no mistake, they are narcotics, and do carry the risks thereof.” Because I was not able to successfully process that information, my brain focused on the word “narcotics.”
I got all excited, looked up the word “narcotic” to confirm what I thought I knew, and got agitated because the ADD drugs are not technically narcotics (which are the opiates, belladonna, heroine, etc.). I got further worked up because I couldn’t understand why, when the author clearly knew so much about these drugs, s/he would make such a mistake. I was completely mystified by this and it was a VERY BIG DEAL! I tried very hard to figure out a way to post to correct this ERROR! [an example of the way my brain processes in extremes and absolutes]
As a result of lessons hard learned, I managed to hold off posting until I’d had a chance to think it through, but holding off was a physical challenge. I kept leaning toward the keyboard and pulling myself back.
About this point, I took my Focalin because that’s where I was in my morning routine and it’s what works for me.
It finally dawned on me that use the of the word “narcotics” was probably shorthand for “drugs, which if misused, have a high potential for addiction.” Having figured that out, I would like to have been able to let it go at that point. What meds do for me is that I am more often able to do so. However, not in this case.
Instead, my brain took off on “But what if someone reads it and DOESN’T UNDERSTAND! What if someone who might be helped by meds doesn’t try them because they get the WRONG IDEA! I have to do something about this!”
At this point, my rational brain kicked in and responded with, “Bullshit. No you don’t. It’s no big deal and you’re probably the only one who had trouble reading the meaning. Besides, you don’t have to be in charge of the whole world.” Again, this should have been the end of it. However, this time, it led to cognitive dissonance so bad that I was rocking in my chair and my hypnotherapy breathing techniques kicked in.
The agitation continued, but I continued to fight the urge to blurt. Even with the meds, I knew I had 50-50 odds of this going on all day. I gave serious consideration to going away from the board for an extended period to avoid dealing with THIS ISSUE which had grown to such vast proportions in my head. Intermingled with all this were terrible feelings of shame and alienation.
Finally, as the meds began to ramp up and I continued to do all my calming things, the physical agitation let go (although my odd interpretations were still niggling at the back of my brain). At that point, I found that I was hungry, thirsty and feeling exhausted, which are symptoms I have observed in dogs post-seizure.
I’m a high-functioning ADD person (and have the test results to prove it) and this is how it happens for me.
Not even up to meh. Just eh. And boy, oh boy, do I have a case of it.
There’s no reason for this, really. I’ve gotten over the sick, I have a little bit of work, the floors are done and even the weatherstripping on the back door has been replaced, so there’s no cold air coming in. Really, life is just fine. Even the weather is clear and sunny, if cold.
Darned if I know what it is. I’ll just be glad when it’s something else.
