I thought it was time for an update about my experiment with going off ADHD medication. Yesterday, I confessed about caving in to the temptation to touch a dead screech owl’s beak and talons to see what they felt like (smooth and bone-like, if you’re wondering).
As far as I was concerned, the Screech Owl Incident was one strike against my non-medicated ADHD status.
This afternoon, I received a second strike. That’s when I came up with the “Three Strikes, You’re Out” rule for my ADHD medication experiment.
There are two kinds of people: those who will kiss their cat on the cheek or their dog on the lips and those who won’t. I once had a vet who kissed her dogs on the lips. She’s lived to tell the tale.
As most of you know, I recently made the decision to go off my ADHD medication. I’ve been hypervigilant in monitoring what changes occur in my decision-making, relationships, and ability to find my keys.
I’ve noticed some differences but I’m happy to say not enough to go back on medication. It hadn’t been working very well anyway.
I’ve been racking my brains trying to figure out why I can’t think of an April Fool’s Day post. I love writing humor, why would this be so hard?
This morning on Twitter one of my wise and wonderful Twitter peeps pointed out the obvious: her ADHD son has been dreading April Fool’s Day for weeks. Aha!
April Fool’s Day with ADHD is no joke.
How can you get creative and have fun with a day that scares the hell out of you? Writer’s block was inevitable.
I’ve been off my ADHD stimulant medication for about two weeks now.
When I started taking meds, I promised myself that one day I’d get off them. It looks like that day is here.
I didn’t plan it, exactly. My prescription ran out and my doctor was on holidays so I couldn’t get it renewed.
The medication hasn’t been as effective over the past few years as it had been, so, after about two weeks with no major disasters, I decided to make my move.
Given that some adults don’t respond to ADHD medications (notably Dr. Ned Hallowell, co-author of Driven to Distraction among them) I figure there must be a way to do this.
Truth be told, I’m perfectly willing to go back on meds if my experiment fails.
Suddenly, impeccable professional that I am, I burst into tears. And no, it’s not because I’m jealous (I am; but that’s not why I’m crying).
They said it could never happen.
He was still an eccentric dresser. A night hawk.
At first, nobody noticed a difference.
“I told you so,” said Marg.
He couldn’t deny it.
Recalled it vividly, in fact.
Recently, a woman we’ll call Jane asked me some questions that I think we’ve all asked at one time or another, so I’d like to share my response with all of you.
“I was only diagnosed with ADHD at 25. Trying to be something I’m not is the story of my life. My question is: What are we good at? Almost everything requires paperwork and some ability to keep a semblance of organizational skills and professions require the passing of exams…the bane of my life. What are we suited for?”
I remember asking the very same questions not long after my diagnosis. Almost a decade later, I can share the good news: adults with ADHD can do just about anything they put their minds to!
That said, there are five steps we need to take to steer clear of our pre-diagnosis roadblocks.
I sat on the back step in the morning sunlight. The birds sang “Spring is coming.” At minus seventeen degrees celsius, with snow banks on my deck taller than me, it was hard to believe.
I popped in the earbuds. Adele played, but not so loud that I didn’t catch the regular tap-tap-tapping that started up to my right.
A woodpecker, I thought.
I glanced at my neighbor’s deck. His teardrop-shaped feeder appeared to be unoccupied. I waited. Then, sure enough, a downy woodpecker emerged from the south side, settling in profile on the west side and continuing her tapping.
In ADHD and Gullibility – Part I I shared an incident where I nearly got caught by a telephone scam artist. Those of us with ADHD might be smart, but unfortunately that doesn’t inoculate us against being taken advantage of.
In today’s post I’ll explain why we can be sitting ducks for practical jokers, scammers, and con-artists, and what to do about it.
As kids, a lot of us with ADHD were either drowning in social awkwardness; having too much fun splashing in the pool; or too busy fantasizing about sailing the seven seas to have learned to read social cues.
Remember the first time someone pointed at something over your shoulder, you turned around and they pulled a fast one on you? I still blush when I get caught. You’d think at my age I wouldn’t get caught. Or blush.
Apparently, I’m not alone in my gullibility and sometime naïveté. There are some good reasons why adults with ADHD might be more gullible or overly trusting than others.
I’ll explore the reasons for this in Part II. For now, here’s a story about how last week, I nearly got caught.