While it is certainly true that ADD/ADHD are diagnosed way too wily nily, especially in children, there are cases, like mine, in which the disorder fits like a glove. Now I’ve only ever had 2 doctors concur that I am indeed ADD. The others simply consider lack of focus and thought organization as a byproduct of bipolar disorder and that is a pertinent point. It is not the entire story, though. Personally, when I was able to take the ADD meds, my focus became laser sharp and I could organize my thoughts into nicely color coded files in my head. There was no ‘getting high’ or popping the pills ‘for energy’. It just made things better. Unfortunately, insurance will no longer cover even the bottom of the barrel generics anymore and I certainly can’t shell out $65 a month fot them so…no more color coded brain files here, just daily utter chaos.
It’s so easy to turn it into a joke, I do it myself. “So I was reading this awesome book about this guy who was haunted by his dead wife…which reminds me of a show I was watching last week, when my kid interrupted…OH MY GOD THERE’S A BUNNY WEARING GOLD LAME!SHINY!”. Dramatic but not inaccurate. I try to stay on topic, try to focus on one thing at a time, but my brain simply does not process things in that manner. No amount of therapy and self bullying and tidy little postie note lists in an effort to rein in my mental chaos changes the fact that it’s a hot mess up in my brain.
And that makes my current situation even more hellish. Moving is a stressful thing for even the most focused, calm together people. But for me, unable to focus or organize properly, and on a ticking clock to get it all packed and transported…This is where my condition truly hinders my ability to function in a meaningful capacity. Right now the way I so hurriedly packed then got so panicked I stopped trying to remotely organize…I’m not sure where our bedding is, our dishes, our bath stuff…It’s all there in a jumble of boxes and trash bags and baskets but…it’s a hellish game of Where’s Waldo. It will take weeks for me to pull it all together into some semblance of a sane home for my child and myself.
To think that I am forced to live with this chaos because of the price tag attached to a medication that could improve the quality of my life drastically really pisses me off.
After a rough night of waking in a panic, then not being able to get back to sleep due to the spinning thoughts and panic…when I finally did nod off, I kept jolting awake in ten seconds, heart thundering, feeling in danger…for no good reason…It was all I could do to get up with my kid this morning. I just wanted to stay asleep because I am fucking exhausted. The physical toll it’s all taking on me is overwhelming, too. I had wanted to come running out of the gate this morning, start packing the SUV and getting the rest of our shit out of here. Instead…I am trapped because now my body has decided its week long walk out on basic digrstive functions is off and I need to be near a toilet. So gastrointestinal cramps, sheer exhaustion, and inability to color code even one damned file in my brain to accomplish SOMETHING, ANYTHING…I am mad at myself, mad at my lackluster psych ‘team’, and I am fucking frustrated that the ONE organ in my entire body I need to cooperate to actually use all the other organs as well, keeps giving me two middle fingers.
Got dealt another blow this morning. Stepmonster found out I can’t have the water to the new place turned on until the landlord pays the old bill former tenants left-over $300!!!! And of course, I owe him the $400 deposit so he will want it to come out of that and I ain’t got it!!! Dad and stepmonster (she’s really not a monster, but St Elmo’s Fire is one of my fave 80’s movies and it was what Demi Moore’s character called her stepmother, so I just like using it, it makes me smile) are going to try to slide the landlord some money and I’ll pay them back but it’s just like…come on! Nothing with this whole thing has gone smoothly, not one fucking thing.
To make matters even worse…I’ve done the math and…even though I can get internet service for $39 a month…I need $85 for deposit and connect fee! I am gonna be trapped in Bumfuck with no internet, no gas to drive to town to even use free wifi…And maybe on the grand scale internet is the least of my concerns but it really IS a major thing for me. It’s my sanity, being able to write my posts and interact indirectly since phones cause me so much anxiety. I have at least 6 more weeks before the ass trash worthless state can, or will, force the sperm donor’s employer to start withholding child support so…no internet for six weeks at least!!! In a corrosive depression!
I guess my ‘let one thing go right’ plea was answered inasmuch as us finally getting the absent minded landlord to actually sign the lease so we have a place to live…But damn, no internet? Not bad enough my car is DOA and I am driving someone else’s which uses even more gas when I couldn’t afford the one using less…So I won’t be able to run to town even for groceries and I won’t have the ability to even stay sane with my internet activities.
Sounds like a suicidal ideation coming my way.
Too dramatic? Well, when your entire existence is spent on sensory overload and the one thing that enhances your life to a tolerable point is the ability to interact via the internet thus somewhat controlling my panic triggers…No, it’s not dramatic. It’s important and I am screwed. I mean, my fundraiser raised ten bucks and that was trying to find a place to live! People raise more money to decorate their kid’s room in Elsa stuff and I can’t even inspire a few people to help me keep a roof over my kid’s head. Maybe no internet will be a good thing. Obviously I have deluded myself into thinking my writing is decent enough for anyone to care enough to read it and say, “Hmm, maybe I’ll skip that mocha smoka half fat full pregnant mare urine foamy coffee drink for one day and toss a five into this campaign since it’s worthwhile.”
My bitch is showing, yes. No, I am not sorry. Frustrated anger is the perfectly legitimate way to feel at this juncture in time.
And while I may not get many views or likes or comments at least I am amusing to myself. I started this post as a ‘living with attention deficit disorder’…and somehow switched to ten other topics without even realizing it! I have to laugh at myself. Because when I think how annoying it must be for others to deal with me and my chaotic thought processes and self expression…
AT LEAST THEY CAN CLICK THE CLOSE BUTTON OR WALK AWAY.
I am stuck with me. And laughter is the only medicine I don’t have to wait days for my useless doctor’s office to call into the pharmacy.
For the hell of it, fundraiser link.
