Tag Archives: life with ADHD

My ADHD: Medicated vs Non-Medicated Part 2

 

Author’s Note:

Like I said last Saturday, not everything sucks when I’m not medicating my ADHD. This is the second part, but you can find the first part here.

There are several pros that, on the right day and viewed under optimal conditions, actually beat out some of the cons.

~

Adult ADHD
Duck and I like being creative-and I have no idea what happened to my hair. I’m not really balding, I promise
Hyper focus

Medicated:

What? What? What? What?! I’m trying to do something here.  Whadda ya mean we’re under a tornado warning and the ratty little ankle biter next door is doing cartwheels across the yard? The sky is blue-oh… right. My mistake. Go get in our safe place, I’ll get the flashlights in like 2 seconds…what? What? What? Ooops. Did it again, didn’t I?

On meds, my hyper focus is solid and almost impossible to break. I can hyper focus through events that most people wouldn’t recover without a lifetime of tics and twitches and all I did was snarl at the intruder who broke my train of thought.

Un-medicated:
Hey Duck. Oh, geez. You’re right. Looking nasty out there. Let’s get moving. No worries, babe. Next time we’ll have a camera on the little piece of-heh-never mind. Not important. It’s going to be okay.

It’s very easy to break away and without the internal guilt and drama over losing track of time and being snarky over getting interrupted.

Patience– full count.
Social outings– work in progress.
Relationships-nah…

Creativity

Medicated:

Oohh I’m stuck again. The images I see in my head and the ideas I have are being held hostage in my head. Dammit, its 3 am and I can’t sleep until this is out of my head. aarghh! Where’s the plunger?

It’s as if my brain and hands are under contract negotiations and it isn’t going well. Maybe there was a grievance, who knows?

Un-medicated:
Hmmm….yes, so if my villain were also sort of likeable and had surprising human characteristics that would explain his fall from grace and his cynical views without overdoing it. Perfect!

Duck hates my creativity right now because it’s been wreaking havoc on his social life when he tests his limits. But it sure has helped tone down the ‘I’m a man now (I have acme-look-see the red spots?) and I do as I please’ issues.

Personality

Medicated:

It’s very simple. I have none.
Some of you have had the pleasure of dealing with OnStar’s virtual advisor and know that female robotic voice. (If not, be sure to experience it soon, you shouldn’t miss out on this) Yeah, that would be me. Without asking you if the city and state you verbalized was correct.

I am a walking, talking individual with little to no real interaction outside of discussing the task at hand. No sense of humor or ability to have a modicum of patience or flexibility until my 8 hours of med enforced brain lockdown is up.

Un-medicated:
Yep, the flood gates have opened and I’m overflowing with my own special brand of personality and eager to inflict it upon unsuspecting individuals. Not a day goes by at my job that I’m not laughing out loud, throwing myself (sometimes bodily) into my work and enjoying every minute of it.

When I’m not on meds, I can remember to stop long enough to look around me as my blinders aren’t on. I can see and appreciate the rainbow I saw last week. The one without any rain preceding it. I can take time to play the floor is lava with Duck and crack up over my lack of coordination without much embarrassment.

Life with Adult ADHD
We have fun

It comes down to the fact that I can stop long enough and focus on what things make me happy and not just on getting from A to B with grim determination. Whether those things are supposed to be fun things or not. I have a deadline and I’m on a mission to meet it.

It’s a tough decision I’m going to have to make very soon. I received my benefits package yesterday and am even now weighing the pros against the cons.

Do try to remember these are my personal experiences and are to be taken as such. For further info on Adult ADD/ADHD, go to any of the ADHD links found on my Resources Page.

Anyway, my name is CeeLee and this is my ADHD.

 

 

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My ADHD: Medicated vs. Un-Medicated Part 1

Author’s note:

As most of us with ADD/ADHD know, October is ADHD/ADD Awareness Month.

This year, my contribution is going to be radically different. I’m breaking away from my normal humor and gunning for brutally honest.

For reasons of my own, I’ve been un-medicated for over a year. Having the opportunity to see both sides of my ADHD, the differences are well…different. And challenging.

While this may not help or reach a single person and I’m not quite sure how well it’ll translate, I’m still doing this.

Because I’m CeeLee and because I can.

This is my face and my ADHD.

~

medicated and un-medicated, ADHD is challenging
I’m just one face of Adult ADHD
My ADHD: the not so fun, but still kind of funny
Speech patterns.

Medicated.

I. need. to. get. to. blah, blah… Louieville, Ky.
OnStar: “I think you said Louisville, Ky. Is that correct?”

Calm, clear, concise without a hint of twang to hinder the process.

And…

Un-medicated.

Aahhneedtogettooo blah, blah Lullvulle, Ky.
OnStar: ” I think you said Lewiston, Maine. Is that correct?”

My speech pattern goes to high-speed mode (unlike my WiFi) and even live people have to tell me to slow down so that they can understand. It can be very frustrating for everyone involved.

Priorities.

Medicated.

Okay, Duck. Homework first, I’ll get you a snack to have while doing it, and then you have to, yes, have to-get a shower before bed. What did you just say? I’m your Mom, young man. There is no such word as ‘no’ when talking to me, and you best remember that.

Prioritized if not completely organized.

And…

Un-medicated

Oh schizznit, Duck, you have to get a shower, do homework, I really should feed you and have cuddle time and get you to bed..oh crap, is that my cell? Hold those thoughts because I’ll forget. How am I going to get all this done? Where is my cell? Why are you watching TV? Where is my cell? Are you hiding my cell?? C’mere, you brat and quit laughing at me, it isn’t funny.

Because everything is the same priority. Urgent, ASAP, and PDQ. And exhausting.

Memory.

Medicated

Oh look, today is my weirdo sister’s birthday. So glad I remembered to set the reminder for myself. Even if she does like running in the rain, I can tell her happy birthday on Facebook and she won’t know I’m still giggling over taunting her about it last Tuesday.

I can remember to set the reminder alert to help me if I get busy at work or caught in traffic and still maintain good family relations. Always recommended.

Un-medicated

Seriously?! I had my keys just a second ago, I’m going to be late for work! I’ve checked the dryer and the fridge, the counter and microwave, just where the hell are they-oh. heh, they were in my hand the whole time. That’s just perfect. Wait. Is today the 3rd? Ohhh nooo, I missed wishing my sister a happy birthday and she’s gonna be so mad and now I’m late for work. And-and-and-ugh! Why can’t I keep things straight???

I’ve forgotten to remind myself to set the reminder alerts and worse, I’m so distracted that I can’t see the keys for the forest of panic and confusion in front of me. And I feel awful because of all of the above, for the rest of the day.

But not everything about my being un-medicated is this bad. There are plenty of advantages too. We’ll look at those next Saturday.

Please remember these are my personal experiences and are to be taken as such. For further info on Adult ADD/ADHD, go to any of the ADHD links found on my Resources Page.

A Duck Stomps into a Store

ADHD observations from the water park
He’s so much nicer when I dunk him
Today is the day (oh joy)

I’ve been dreading this task on my to-do list for a month or more. I’ve just gotta do it. Besides. I’m no coward. Not much of one anyway.

Taking Duck shopping for school clothes or for any inner/outer body apparel isn’t easy. I’m starting to believe that my mastering the fine art of small talk with Attila the Hun in a single afternoon may be easier to accomplish. 

Though for once, I’m in total agreement with Duck.

I hate shopping for clothes. I’m not a clothes horse and neither is he. I’d rather clean the bathroom after giving the dog a bath, take a trip to a PortaPotty left out in the hot sun for a year, or donate blood and pass out from low blood pressure than do the run through department store hell.

One of the fastest ways to make me snarly is to catch a glimpse of my fading tan and body flaws, displayed in horrifying HD-like detail, in a changing room mirror.

Meaner than the realization I’ve overslept on a work day and smarter than the spider outwitting my shriek and eye covered swats, clothes shopping bites.

You can drive a Duck to a store, but you can’t make him like it.

Duck however, shares none of my loathing for shopping reasons, he hates it for a much less complex one. He hates it because it isn’t fun.

And he isn’t afraid of voicing his displeasure about it.

Duck’s a firm believer in freedom of speech, even with the whispered threats through clenched teeth and a fake smile, threats of eternal groundation, of doing my laundry for years, even that of further Xbox explorations, to be done under his user name, once we make it back home, isn’t phasing him.

What to do, what to do.

His declarations of woe are growing louder by the moment, something that anyone within 1000 yards having poor to moderate hearing can’t un-hear. It’s ear rape of the worst kind.

We are drawing attention and not the adoring, ‘Oh look at what a wonderful well behaved son she has’, kind. Clearly, I need to act fast.

What to do, what to do.

Jeez…if grounding won’t work, what will?

Well, if ya can’t make him stop… roll with it. Time to take a page from my Dad’s playbook. It did work on my sister…

Gathering my courage and dropping my dignity, I clear my throat.

“Ladies and gentleman, can I have your attention please? My name is Chris Lee and this is my son, Duck.

A truly lovely young man when he isn’t causing us all to suffer from tinnitus because he hates clothes shopping, his interests are fossils, Xbox, and pretty girls.

Can we have a round of applause for his admirable command of the English language in expressing his displeasure today? Take a bow, Duck, you’ve earned it.”

Duck’s diatribe falters and halts. He’s staring in shock and wanting to run far, far away. Too bad for him that I drove.

Silence…

Giggles and then outright laughter from the back of the store before the applause.

A standing ovation, how cool is that?

Thanks Dad, I owe you one.

Duck whispers through his clenched teeth (wonder where he gets that?) that he’s very angry and doesn’t like me at the moment. I whisper back that I have a whole store who likes me now, so who needs him?

A mute Duck pouts out of a store…

Duck’s Growing is a Pain

Growing up is tough. For all parties involved
Growing up is tough. For all parties involved

Duck’s been laboring under the misconception that he’s eleven going on thirty these past few weeks.

I’m not having it.

He’s been stretching his wings and testing his skills of negotiation and delegation, along with my patience and sanity.

Duck’s in trouble.

He’s not sure why he’s in trouble, after all, he feels he’s been perfectly rational, laying out his arguments in a logical (to him) and concise manner, lacking only the power point presentation to drive his salient points home further.

But he knows it’s hit the fan.

He’s trying to do damage control by giving voice to fervent promises on how ‘it’ll never happen again, I’ll change my behavior, I give my word on this, Mom’.

Meanwhile, he’s on the couch next to me and watching me play Xbox. Badly.

Because he can’t play right now.

Turns out I have less coordination on Xbox than I do after having a couple shots of Jack Daniels. How cool.

He’s mourning his losses with pain more properly reserved for mourning the loss of a best friend.

With bitterness and angst.

I’ve got him right where I want him.

Any minute now.

Wait for it…

Mom!! What are you doing?? Jump! Hit the x button, the x button, no, the X button, THE X BUTTON!! That’s NOT the x button! The xbutton-xbutton-xbutton-oh stop, just stop! Please!! Oohh mannn!

Giving a Duck screech of frustration, he throws his arms up in the air and then covers his eyes, unable to witness the chaos ensuing on the screen.

Yep.

Nailed it.

Duck slumps into the couch, exhausted by his efforts and whines.

Have I watched enough yet? Am I done being punished? Don’t make me watch this anymore. 

And then the horror…

Wait. Are you signed into my account?? My friends are seeing this??? Oohh nooo!!! Mom, please be merciful. I’m, like, totally dying over here.

Mission complete.

Growing pains are hard for me to deal with.

It means my Duck is starting to move away from his sweet, ever questioning nature to the brand spankin’ new smartass, always challenging, forever arguing and bargaining nature.

That testing his boundaries is to be expected.

I know this has to be, that he will change, that this is really a good thing disguised in the trappings of a sullen argumentative troll, I do.

But it doesn’t take away the suck factor, not in the slightest.

None of the previous punishments have seemed to stick with him until I had this idea.

Said idea being why not get a new game, the very same one that he’d told all his friends he was getting and have him watch me play it?

The absolute simplistic beauty lies in the fact that I’ve never held an Xbox controller before today.

And it’s working.

I see another piece of him shrivel up and explode into dust particles with each succession of missed jumps, wrong buttons, and my general lack of survivability.

His whines have degenerated into pleas and then to almost inarticulate howls, begging me to stop, to turn it off, anything but end the carnage.

I’m half expecting to see a tear shed.

He understands that he won’t be cuddling up to his Xbox for another week and he’ll miss it (with more passion than I suspect he misses me) but he accepts his fate gladly if it means he doesn’t have to watch me die in a thousand various ways.

I do know he’ll forget what he said to bring him to this punishment, but I also know he’ll remember the consequences for some time.

And maybe, if I’m real lucky, he’ll think before he decides to dictate his terms of living under my roof again.

Oh look. I jumped off a cliff. Again. Too bad for me.