The funny thing about ADD is that it doesn’t make any sense at all. Right this moment, I’m actively avoiding my work (which was due several days ago — pneumonia to the rescue?). I actively am choosing to write this nonsense instead of the other nonsense I have a vested interest in writing. Yet I’m also, in the back of my mind, dreading the moment when I finally finish this monstrosity of an assignment, marking the end of the “crunch” and the beginning of a week-long lull before my final exam (my one and only!). I’m literally dreading it. It’s the most bizarre feeling; for as much as I resent having to exert mental energy to finish a complex, multi-step task such as this one, I don’t quite know where I’ll channel all my resentment and mental energy come next Thursday when it’s REALLY over. It used to be that stimulant medications made all kinds of things seem like complex, multi-step tasks that I could settle upon in the absence of an actual task. However, tasks like using a toothbrush to dust the baseboards, or implementing an effective filing system for all four of the bills that still come in the mail, have lost their appeal. I’ll probably spend most of the break staring idly off into space, in typical Strattera fashion, and perhaps abuse a variety of substances to avoid the boredom of a quiet, unchallenged mind.
Don’t get me wrong, ADD sucks and makes everything I do ten times harder than it is for everyone else. But I’m not looking forward to experiencing for the first time the unsettling tranquility of being, not bored, but boring.
I’m starting to worry that in suppressing my ADD symptoms, I’m erasing the only part of me that feels alive, alive and a part of the world.
The other funny thing about ADD is that the feeling will pass just as quickly as it came, probably before I even finish editing this posting.
And now, all I’m thinking about is pumpkin log and sticky buns and those ridiculous Pillsbury sugar cookies with the reindeer on them and for the love of Christ, there had better be Dram Buie. Maybe Christmas break won’t be so bad after all.
When a bottle of shampoo runs out in my apartment, generally it remains in the shower for any number of weeks or months until it has multiplied and taken over the sacred altar of cleansing, until it becomes hazardous for an ADD kid to step into the tub (without looking or remembering that he himself had neglected to take every single one of those shampoo bottles out).
So, still writhing in pain and crying out with rage at my most recent Tony Hawk Dove-boarding Extreme incident, I hurled the culprits over the shower curtain onto the bathroom floor. And as you can imagine, I’m now faced with a choice…
Either I let shampoo bottles accumulate to dangerous levels, or I hurl them over the shower curtain as soon as I run out. Granted, later on I generally put the bottles in the recycling — the trash turnaround rate of floor-dwelling Dove bottles is astonishingly speedy. So my question is this: am I alone in chucking my empty Lethal Luges out of the shower? Or are there fellow irrational beings who face this same problem?
I also compulsively go to Public Library booksales and buy inordinate amounts of the shittiest books imaginable, especially on $5-box Sunday (A WHOLE BOX OF BOOKS — ANY BOOKS!! — FOR $5!). It’s just so cheap… and there are so many books… but after four years of hoarding all the novels based on movies and all the novels with pictures of women in rural areas sitting in pity-evoking but somehow “self-reliant” poses. Or at least that’s what I think when I look at Stony Hollow Here My Woman Cry or whatever the hell that weird book is called.
And, in all honesty, I haven’t read a single one of those damn books. It’s embarrassing.
All right! Now that I’ve satisfied my Catholic urge to confess my sins from behind a veil of anonymity (internet = confessional? that’s gotta be a sacrilege right there), the post comes to a close. And anyway — the empty soda bottles in my car which I have intentionally avoided mentioning until just now are FAR more shameful and overwhelming than a shampoo bottle on the floor or an extra bookshelf. I hope that one day I can stage some sort of ADHD-exclusive messiest car contest. Everyone would have to take pictures or video or whatever of their cars (and obviously, our cars are never clean) and everyone would have to identify where the shit came from, maybe depict scenes where people yells at them to throw some piece of garbage away and they refuse.. or perhaps in some sort of semi-serious emergency, an acquaintance (like a professor or a colleague, but one you don’t know well or one that is your superior somehow) has to sit in the backseat or something on top of the massive conglomerate of the majority of your belongings that maintains a permanent residence in your backseats. OH MY GOD and bonus points if they’re germophobes or OCD or something like that.
…Wow, that was an elaborate plan. I hope this really pans out someday. Competitive ADD-ing..? Eh. I’ll find a better name for it.
Parting words: books are heavy as shit to box up and move EVERY SINGLE YEAR, and if you have any weird ADD stuff that you do (like my shampoo shot-put or my Dewey Decimal fetish) feel free to share it in a comment or something. Your insanity would offer me MUCH consolation. Ha.