Merry Miss Medicated

When I was young my nickname inside my family was Merry Miss Sunshine. Later in life my mother dubbed me 'brilliant' not because of my mental acuity but rather because it was hard to look at me too long without protective eye wear. In all, those two rather acutely describe how I see myself--bright, dazzling, overwhelming energy flowing in every direction kind of willy-nilly without any real purpose or control. Every now and then I'll have a solar flare and something will get done with energy concentrated in one spot.

In order to accomplish things like, say, an education that kind of energy is pretty pointless. Drop me into a party? It's on! Sit me in a classroom? People around me are just annoyed.

Years ago my Mom discovered that some of that inability to focus was due to lack of stimulation in my frontal lobes or, as it's commonly known, ADD. In the late nineties I tried a bunch of different medications in order to harness my potential and only Ritalin worked. I hated that I had to use it. Still do. But the reality is that it works. Also, it eases my mind that most of the population can't drop 60 milligrams of speed daily and feel more in control of themselves with no withdrawals when they stop. Clearly evidence of something physical, yes?

After some careful consideration I decided to end the two year lapse in medication. Mom asked me how it felt when I started again and the only thing I could think to answer was, "It feels like someone took all that energy and concentrated it into a laser aimed out of my chest. Kinda like a panic attack without the heart rate." That feeling generally lasts about two days and then it's more like a concentrated glow from my upper torso. It's so intensely odd to be able to sit down and think about something from beginning to end but I have four months to finish ten classes toward a degree I've been working on for thirteen years. It's worth the chink in my pride.

Why am I sharing? When I left the doctors office today I was very frustrated. I have a tall, skinny doctor who said to me, "Don't be so hard on yourself. I could only concentrate for two or three hours at a time when I was studying." I looked him straight in the eyes and said, "Dr. Smith, I set an egg time for 15 minutes and feel amazed if I don't break task before it rings." He just kind of sat there and then said, "Well, ok. I gave you the prescription." As I drove out of the parking lot I saw a sign that read, "Mental illness is a brain disease, not a character defect."

Not perfect, but close enough.

I hope that people who struggle with controlling their minds or urges realize they are not alone. I've talked about the sense of isolation that can pervade in single life--this is not entirely unlike that. Group them together and you have a heady cocktail of self-doubt. It's vital not to let that get the best of you--to stand up to your insecurities and step over them, beyond them into the life that you choose for yourself.

And that's all I have to say about that.

For now.