“Forgive me, Father, for I have sinned. My last confession was…”
I’m not Catholic, but that whole confession thing speaks to me right now. Let’s try it like this:
Forgive me, Dear Readers, for I have
sinned neglected my blog. My last confession post was two months, three weeks, and two days ago and these are my sins issues:
- I’ve been binge-watching Coronation Street and reading novels until the wee hours of the morning
- I’ve caved to my Facebook addiction until I was so sick of cats knocking stuff off shelves I wanted to kill somebody
- I’ve stopped meditating, playing bass, and doing yoga
- I haven’t followed through on a zillion ideas and have forgotten what most of them were
- I completely forgot my mission-critical goals and projects
- I’ve become depressed and despondent
I am truly sorry I lost myself in a black hole. I have no idea where I’ve been.
There is no Priest to forgive me. No ADHD coach to absolve me of my descent into ADHD hell. I had to rescue myself. And here’s what I discovered:
- I didn’t meditate, do yoga, or practice bass because I had no privacy
- Without daily privacy I’m an irritable, nervous, crazy person who sits in her room eating chips and watching British soaps
- I need to fill my emotional and spiritual well on a regular basis or I’ll fall into an empty well
- Being unproductive, for me, is depressing, disorienting, and self-esteem crushing
When I finally realized that I hadn’t been doing the things I needed to do to manage my ADHD and mood, I made changes. My boarder (who was home 24/7) moved out and I regained my privacy.
But the truth is, my entire last year is mostly a blur (my loyal readers will recall that I went off my ADHD medication back in March 2014).
I was shocked when I realized I’d been off my medication for over a year. Hadn’t it been only a few months?
A trip to my family doctor and the decision was made.
In May, I went back on my medication. Instantly, it felt like a fog had lifted.
When I told my ADHD friend that I’d felt like I’d spent the past year in a fog, he said, “That sounds awful.”
I don’t see it that way. Losing the first 47 years, now that was awful. But so much has changed for the positive.
Off meds, I discovered that I’d learned a lot since my late-in-life diagnosis at 47. I was no longer as verbally impulsive; my friendships and part-time work remained stable. But moving my main life and work goals forward had been a Sisyphean task.
Still, even three weeks back on my meds, I’m dragging my butt. I’ve started to become more productive again, but I’m still exhausted. Today I learned the possible reason: a wonky thyroid. Perhaps it’s not just the ADHD that’s been holding me back over the past year.