Manic Monday, or Super Me

It's odd how I get the most done on the busiest day of the week.  Wait, let me rephrase that, it's kind of a "duh" statement.

It's odd that, while at work, on Monday, the busiest day for us, I get the most non-work-related stuff done.

Maybe it's the Manic Monday mindset.  We as average m-f 9-5'ers are accustomed to "The Mondays."  We expect to have a lot to do, and a strong desire to not work, which we will have to set aside and get things done.  Is that same "Deal with it" attitude associated with surviving Monday also making it easier to focus on schoolwork and life?

Foot in mouth

Having ADD/HD, I don't alway just say things I shouldn't.  I do things I shouldn't.  Or rather, I don't do things I should.  Or the way I should. 

Ever get in a mood and start writing things or doing things or saying things you want to do (I hear this referred to as motivation...), but then you look back and you're like "Shit, why on EARTH did I commit to this?" 

My wife married Ritalin

There's been talk of meds lately.  Of course.  It's a big topic.  I just wrote about it myself the other day.  I was thinking about meds and my recent presentation (see today's other blog) and life before meds.  My thoughts wandered and before I knew it I was thinking about my wife.  This is not uncommon, as I couldn't possibly have gotten where I am today without her.  I was thinking of my needs and expectations as a husband, and how our relationship has changed over the years.  She has to provide a lot more guidance now than she did before.  I realized that I expect this from her and think that expectation is totally fair.  I mean, she's my wife, right?  Well, she is my wife, but the rest is all wrong.
When we dated I was medicated.  When we married, I was medicated.  When we conceived our children, I was medicated.  I was in control with the help of meds.  I'm not medicated any more, and thus do not have the control I once had.  She knows this, only too well.

Don't take advantage of your loved ones.  The family you were born with, the family you choose... they are all you have when it all comes down to it.  I have nothing without my friends and family.  They are my meds.  They are my motivation.  I wish I could take back so much, because so much happens when I lose control.

My huge helping of Awesome Sauce

Awesome. 

It's typically a dish served best by Tom Nardone (if you don't know who that is, you don't know awesome).  I digress...

I'm taking 3 classes this semester.  2 online and one that meets 1ce a week in a classroom.  My Monday night classroom-meeting-class has a presentation for each student, mine was due last night.  Over the weekend, I was wrapping up my preparations for my presentation, and asked the teacher for some additional photos to help support my topic.   She advised me this was not the way she had meant for me to take the topic, and that I won't be able to present.  Essentially she had sent me an email specifying her expectations as she had with presenters before me, and that email apparently did not send.  As this is an ongoing problem she has been having with her computer system at home, she assumed complete responsibility and offered to let me present on a different topic later in the semester.  I told her that I have mild anxiety issues, and asked her to clarify her expectations to see what I could come up with by the end of the day.   My mind's kitchen ran amuck looking for the perfect Ingredients,  throwing together the perfect mixture and after letting it simmer, BAM! AWESOME SAUCE.

4 hours later I had a completely different presentation than what I had spent 2 weeks researching and developing,  I went to class, served up a bowl to everyone, and they all asked for more.  I can't say it was perfect, but I did well.  If there's one thing that's always been true for me it's this: give me a deadline and project, and I will lose sleep over it until it's due.  Tell me at the last minute (totally not her fault, don't get me wrong) that I have it wrong and won't be able to present as planned, and I will likely vomit.  But I will also throw together a completely functional work in just hours and will present the hell out of it!

FEEL THE AWESOME!

If this doesn't deserve some bacon, I don't know what does!

Crazy Manic Hungry Thoughful Helpful Tired Hyper Confused Regretful. And then there was Ritalin.

What does ADHD feel like?  You know, I can count on one hand the number of people who have ever asked me that.  I always hope this blog will enlighten people who want to know, and there are certainly those whom I want to know me better, but in the end, I have come to rely on this blog more for my own sanity.

Right now. 

It's 5pm (ish) and I'm friggin Manic.  I am Crazy.  I am hungry, thoughtful,  oh wait... you read the title?  Perfect. 

Moving along...

Squirrel: The return

No, this is not a sequel, as I forgot to write the first one.  Fitting, right?

What is it about squirrels that is so relate-able to those with A.D.D. and AD/HD (yes, I like the rock n roll abbreviation more)?  It's the squirrel demeanor.  Darting here and there.  Seemingly without a plan.  Sometimes social, sometimes scared beyond words.  There is also

Dreams of Battle

Last night I was a warrior.  I went to sleep in my bed, and woke up in Ancient Mesopotamia.  I fought battles side by side with a man I called my brother, and eventually we became two generals in a great army.  We were friends, and equally vicious on the battle field.  Eventually, we became the leaders of our own armies.  And somehow,  became enemies.  The end of the dream was my sword through his belly and a knife through his jaw into his brain.  I died of heartache after.  And woke up.

I have heard that people with ADD and ADHD are very creative, but have never been able to tap into my creative side, except when I sleep.  I have amazingly detailed dreams.  They are sometimes funny.  Sometimes sad.  I have had horrific dreams of my children dying, and unsettling dreams of flying.  Dreams of love, dreams of anger.  My dreams are almost always gone from my memory within a few minutes of waking up.   But sometimes the images stick with me, like the death of my fellow soldier, and seeing myself as though from the viewpoint of a different person, letting go in sorrow, dying alone with my best friend and enemy.  In the time it took me to write this, all the other images of the dream are gone from my mind.  That creativity has gone dormant again, and so it is time to go back to bed and wake it.