If ADHD Were a Person, It Would Look Like This

So I have ADHD, and as I said in my previous post, I was officially diagnosed with the condition (along with depression) a little over four years ago.  It was a little bit of a shock to the system, to be honest.  I had always assumed that would have been tested for much earlier in my life, but no.  I was told, first by the staff psychologist at the Massachusetts General Hospital Weight Center (who wasn't qualified to give an actual diagnosis), and then by my therapist (who is so qualified), that I had it, and probably was carrying it from childhood.  Holy crap.  All these years trying to figure out why I couldn't seem to keep it together and focus on things, even things I was very much into.  I thought maybe (because I'd been told by many adults) I was just chronically lazy and unambitious.  But the truth is, I had a lot of ambitions, and there were a lot of things I wanted to do.  For some reason, I just couldn't get started with any of them.  So I started to doubt myself, which leads, nearly inevitably, to depression, which is another possible result of ADHD.

So I went on medication.  Wellbutrin at first, and then after my gastric bypass surgery, my therapist added Provigil, a milder stimulant than is normally prescribed for this condition.  The reason for that is that one of the side effects of the stimulants they use to treat ADHD is a decrease in appetite.  And where I just had a surgery that ensures that you eat a lot less than you used to, they didn't want to cause problems with my ability to get proper nutrition.  The meds worked, although there was no moment of "Aha!  I think I'll start training for the Boston Marathon."  It's more you just sort of notice, after a while, that you're starting to follow through on things more, and your thinking is a bit clearer.  You know how, when you take medicine for a headache, and then you realize at some point that the headache is gone, but you can't put your finger on when, exactly, it went away?  There you go.

Unfortunately, about two years into my treatment, I lost my job, along with my insurance.  And since I couldn't afford COBRA, I also couldn't afford to continue taking the meds, or seeing the therapist.  So I stopped.  I got a new job about four or five months later, but the schedule there wasn't as flexible, and so I couldn't really get back to see my therapist, and so I (stupidly) let it fall by the wayside.  And now, two years after that, I'm finally trying to get in touch with her again to see if I can get back to that place where I was able to finish what I started and follow through on my ambitions.

There's really no way to describe the cloud you get stuck in with this condition.  Add depression to that mix, and you're really lost.  I've struggled to write (both comedy and otherwise), my position in the band was threatened, and it's caused a major strain on my relationship.  All of these things I'm working desperately to try and resolve and work out now.

So I've got a call in to my old doctor, and I've started writing here again, and practicing (I promise to talk more about the music in a later post.  I realize I haven't said much about it besides the fact that it exists), and trying to do everything else I can to get back on track.