Reflections on adhd meds, or: ADULTHOOD IN PILL FORM!
So I've been on ADHD meds for a week. I'm not sure how much I updated about this on here, but about a year and a half ago an eating disorder relapse landed me on a shrink's couch. This happens sometimes. I went in for anorexia relapse but brought up the possibility of ADHD, so I walked out with an attention deficient diagnosis. This is rarer in females, especially the hyperactive/impulsive type, which is what I was diagnosed as. I would say I'm really a combined inattentive/impulsive type, but treatment doesn't really differ, so--semantics.
I was thrilled. Holy BALLS, you mean I might not actually be an inherent irresponsible fuck up? AWESOME. Like, is this why I cry hysterically when faced with a pile of clean laundry? This is why normal household tasks are completely overwhelming, so my apartment looks like a meth den? This is why I'm terrible at directions, cannot fucking function if I'm bored? And why I'm loud and twitchy and have really lowered inhibitions from a starting point of zero alcoholic beverages? AWESOME.
ADHD is typically treated with stimulants.
Guess what your psych doc really, really doesn't want to give you if you have an eating disorder history?
Psychologists are not MDs, so they can't prescribe meds. Usually they consult with either an in house psychatrist (which is psych phD+MD = can prescribe drugs) or the patient's own doctor. I went to my general practitioner, a cool smart dude I kind of love who thinks he's House. Really. Anyway, GP had absolutely no problems with putting me on stimulants. WANT SOME ADDERALL, KID? SURE.
So they got into a doctor fight via e mail, with sensitive psych bro being like,
"NO WHAT ARE YOU DOING?!"
and GP being like, "WHATEVER SHE'S FINE, LOOK AT HER NORMAL WEIGHT AND MUSCLE TONE,"
while psych bro was all, "SHE'S A POWERLIFTER THAT'S TRYING TO LIVE OFF OF PEANUT BUTTER AND PROTEIN SHAKES,"
and GP is like: "WHATEVER, Concerta instead of adderall."
Which basically caused psych bro to feel disrespected and have, like, a breakdown via e mail all, "THAT'S STILL A STIMULANT HAVE YOU NOT LISTENED TO A SINGLE THING I'VE SAID?"
so GP was ultimately like, "WELL IF YOU'RE GOING TO BE A PUSSY ABOUT IT, THEN FUCK YOU."
I am 10000% sure my GP writes himself scripts for stimulants. Whatever, man. You're totally brilliant and working like three practices! Do what you want, doctor guy!
So they compromised at wellbutrin, which is typically an anti-d but which is also a smoking cessation aid and an ADHD med when they don't want to fuck your shit up with stimulants.
I promptly refused to take my medication for a full year.
("WHAT IF IT MAKES ME FAT?")
(life pro tip: do not say this to your psychologist when you are seeing him for anorexia management.)
And it was a fine year, you know, whatever. I've had a good time. I was also kind of useless a lot of the time, so I eventually went back to GP dude being like, "please halp," and renewed my wellbru script.
My apartment is the cleanest it's been in at least two fucking years. I can do things for five, six hours straight instead of 20 minutes max. Suddenly things that never made sense before click into place: use the scrubby wand, not the sponge, to clean the jar! Instead of being totally flummoxed by this and giving up. It occurs to me that if I want to clean at night and there is not enough light, I can move the lamp in the bedroom instead of trying to declutter in the dark and stub my toes on things and ultimately cry about how horrible it is.
I can write to-do lists in some semblance of order and for the first time in months I see the empty cardboard box that's meant to be trash that's been sitting on my counter gathering dust, that I just haven't SEEN. I can take it down and throw it away.
I can write in long stretches but also stop, focused but not hyperfocused. I can do things in a logical order, like take my clothes off at the hamper instead of at the edge of the tub, where they get wet.
But oh, people. People have gotten harder. Before I was famous for being able to talk to anyone, IRL, at any time, and gaze at them and make them feel wanted and listened to. And I loved people, all people, and their stories about their lives, and everyone told me how attentive I was.
Yeah, no. You know what I've been doing for years? Mostly only listening to every third word while I directed smutty action movies in my head. That was more than enough to put together what people were saying and answer accordingly--insightfully, even, and warmly. Now when I'm listening to people talk I'm actually listening to them talk and not fucking off behind my eyes and most people talk kind of slow and mostly I know how these stories must logically end so I'm, uh.
Bored?
It's like I took these magical adult pills that let me clean house and meet deadlines, but suddenly I understand what the hyper intelligent cynics of my life have always said about how they don't want to be friends with most people because most people are dull.
It's weird.
I'm hoping this evens out--I mean, it's only been a week, and I've loved talking to random people for my entire fucking life, so I think it'll work out.
But man.
Doing shit in normal person order is weird.
I was thrilled. Holy BALLS, you mean I might not actually be an inherent irresponsible fuck up? AWESOME. Like, is this why I cry hysterically when faced with a pile of clean laundry? This is why normal household tasks are completely overwhelming, so my apartment looks like a meth den? This is why I'm terrible at directions, cannot fucking function if I'm bored? And why I'm loud and twitchy and have really lowered inhibitions from a starting point of zero alcoholic beverages? AWESOME.
ADHD is typically treated with stimulants.
Guess what your psych doc really, really doesn't want to give you if you have an eating disorder history?
Psychologists are not MDs, so they can't prescribe meds. Usually they consult with either an in house psychatrist (which is psych phD+MD = can prescribe drugs) or the patient's own doctor. I went to my general practitioner, a cool smart dude I kind of love who thinks he's House. Really. Anyway, GP had absolutely no problems with putting me on stimulants. WANT SOME ADDERALL, KID? SURE.
So they got into a doctor fight via e mail, with sensitive psych bro being like,
"NO WHAT ARE YOU DOING?!"
and GP being like, "WHATEVER SHE'S FINE, LOOK AT HER NORMAL WEIGHT AND MUSCLE TONE,"
while psych bro was all, "SHE'S A POWERLIFTER THAT'S TRYING TO LIVE OFF OF PEANUT BUTTER AND PROTEIN SHAKES,"
and GP is like: "WHATEVER, Concerta instead of adderall."
Which basically caused psych bro to feel disrespected and have, like, a breakdown via e mail all, "THAT'S STILL A STIMULANT HAVE YOU NOT LISTENED TO A SINGLE THING I'VE SAID?"
so GP was ultimately like, "WELL IF YOU'RE GOING TO BE A PUSSY ABOUT IT, THEN FUCK YOU."
I am 10000% sure my GP writes himself scripts for stimulants. Whatever, man. You're totally brilliant and working like three practices! Do what you want, doctor guy!
So they compromised at wellbutrin, which is typically an anti-d but which is also a smoking cessation aid and an ADHD med when they don't want to fuck your shit up with stimulants.
I promptly refused to take my medication for a full year.
("WHAT IF IT MAKES ME FAT?")
(life pro tip: do not say this to your psychologist when you are seeing him for anorexia management.)
And it was a fine year, you know, whatever. I've had a good time. I was also kind of useless a lot of the time, so I eventually went back to GP dude being like, "please halp," and renewed my wellbru script.
My apartment is the cleanest it's been in at least two fucking years. I can do things for five, six hours straight instead of 20 minutes max. Suddenly things that never made sense before click into place: use the scrubby wand, not the sponge, to clean the jar! Instead of being totally flummoxed by this and giving up. It occurs to me that if I want to clean at night and there is not enough light, I can move the lamp in the bedroom instead of trying to declutter in the dark and stub my toes on things and ultimately cry about how horrible it is.
I can write to-do lists in some semblance of order and for the first time in months I see the empty cardboard box that's meant to be trash that's been sitting on my counter gathering dust, that I just haven't SEEN. I can take it down and throw it away.
I can write in long stretches but also stop, focused but not hyperfocused. I can do things in a logical order, like take my clothes off at the hamper instead of at the edge of the tub, where they get wet.
But oh, people. People have gotten harder. Before I was famous for being able to talk to anyone, IRL, at any time, and gaze at them and make them feel wanted and listened to. And I loved people, all people, and their stories about their lives, and everyone told me how attentive I was.
Yeah, no. You know what I've been doing for years? Mostly only listening to every third word while I directed smutty action movies in my head. That was more than enough to put together what people were saying and answer accordingly--insightfully, even, and warmly. Now when I'm listening to people talk I'm actually listening to them talk and not fucking off behind my eyes and most people talk kind of slow and mostly I know how these stories must logically end so I'm, uh.
Bored?
It's like I took these magical adult pills that let me clean house and meet deadlines, but suddenly I understand what the hyper intelligent cynics of my life have always said about how they don't want to be friends with most people because most people are dull.
It's weird.
I'm hoping this evens out--I mean, it's only been a week, and I've loved talking to random people for my entire fucking life, so I think it'll work out.
But man.
Doing shit in normal person order is weird.