Up until I turned 49, my life seemed okay. I didn’t analyze it, I didn’t really pay it much attention, I just assumed it was okay. I thought it could be better, but whose life couldn’t, right?

It’s true, I’d had more than my share of jobs, and I couldn’t find a hobby that I liked well enough to stay with it, forsaking any others. And yes, there was room for improvement in my tax return filing skills. But I was okay.

In 2009 I became aware that I might have ADHD. Lots of research and one diagnosis later, I became a certified member of the ADHD tribe.

Shortly thereafter, in an effort to better my life, a prescription was written for stimulant medication, with my name on it.

I want to tell you about my current medication. It’s changed. It’s changed rather suddenly, but for reasons that grew subtly. And I’m happy about the change in some ways, but disappointed in others. And I’ve learned some things that I’ve found rather surprising.

Before we discuss this change, I want to say that emotionally biased opinions of my medication are not welcome. If you are planning on telling me I should or shouldn’t do something, I would caution you to consider that I am not telling you how to approach your treatment. I’m not telling you to take medication or not. I’m giving my opinion on the efficacy of medication.

 

Yes, it’s true. ADHD stimulant medication has side effects. And as we all know, side effects are bad. Only drugs with no side effects should ever be allowed.

So that leaves us with … nothing. Even sugar piles used as placebos have potential side effects.

To avoid the risk of side effects, you can no longer eat. There is no food that you might not potentially be affected by. Even if you’ve eaten it before with success, you may develop a reaction to your favourite vittles any day now.

Stimulants motivate people. Stimulants make people more active. At one time (and probably still) stimulants were used as diet pills.

People with ADHD are often very active, especially those of us with the “H” switch turned on and the hyper drives set to warp ten.

I’m one of those. I can go through the day feeling like I’ve accomplished nothing, yet I won’t have stopped “doing” all day long.

To itemize my accomplishments you sometimes have to be very creative. I moved a book from my night stand to my dresser, some receipts from my dresser to my desk, a dirty coffee cup from my desk to the kitchen counter, my phone charger from the counter to the hall table, the newspaper from the hall table to the end table, my shoes from beside the end table to the side door, my keys from the door to the key rack … you know I could go on.

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So, on Wednesday, we talked about how we focus on things like TV. I suggested that It wasn’t really a positive thing, more like something we can’t help. And while the focusing is something we’d like to be able to harness, I didn’t think I could find any help in examining this particular habit.

I did allude to the idea that drama might play a role in focus, and, bad TV aside, I still think drama is a great focusing tool. If you can find drama in a dull task, you have a better chance of making it to the end of that task.

My mother had a way of making my tasks more difficult. Don’t get me wrong here, she knew what she was doing. If I was suffering in my attempts to get through a particularly tedious task, she would make it more challenging. Bingo, focus accomplished.

 

Mary: “Doctor, I think I might have ADHD.”

M.D.: “Were you diagnosed with it as a child?”

Mary: “No, I wasn’t.”

M.D.: “Then you can’t have ADHD. It starts during childhood.”

The above is my version of a conversation that was related to me by the person I’ve called ‘Mary’ (not her real name). It’s pretty accurate as far as her memory of it is concerned. If she has ADHD we might suspect that her memory isn’t trustworthy. But the doctor assured her that there was no chance that she had ADHD. There has to have been a childhood history.
What’s wrong with this picture?

It was with a gaping mouth that I began reading tweets that indicated that Adam Lanza had been diagnosed as having Asperger’s Syndrome. I was astounded, but not surprised. I was astounded that this was being released to the media, but not surprised that the media and the public were taking up the cry. And I was even less surprised by the shallow draught of the public opinion that fuelled this new spat of updates on social networks.
In fairness, I was surprised that someone with Asperger’s could have done what this young man is alleged to have done. It doesn’t track. Asperger’s is a disorder that leaves those who have it scrambling to understand the rules of the world. But few, if any, would get up in the morning and wonder if a mass killing would be okay.

 

When I was younger, I often found myself in situations that were nigh on to intolerable. Lineups come to mind, waiting rooms of course, chores that seemed endless; all would work me into a state of agitation that made the occasion impossible to deal with.

When I was younger, I’d often find myself in situations that were nigh on to intolerable. Lineups come to mind, waiting rooms of course, jobs that seemed endless; all would work me into a state of agitation that made the occasion seem impossible to deal with.
Thank heaven for …

Yet, in my youth, I seemed to have the answer. I would reach a point where I would think I was going to explode … and I would stop. I would take myself out of the picture mentally, zoom out, as it were, and look at a bigger picture, a greater world.

Did that title grab you?
A headline article in last Friday’s Toronto Star sent me into a fury that has left me fuming. I’ve written reams of words that seem saturated with potassium nitrate. I’ve ignited them with the sparks flying from my synapses into a flame of sulphuric passion. I’ve filled pages with incendiary sentences and ballistic paragraphs with smart target technology aimed at the folly I’ve perceived in this article and its supporting articles.