Let's face it. Doctors would have you think that ADHD is an epidemic. They diagnose you ($$$) give you medicine ($$$) , refer you to a psychiatrist or a therapist ($$$) and make sure you keep coming back to "try and get better" ($$$).
ADHD is not an epidemic. It's simply a biproduct of the information age we live in.
Take this morning for example. And if this hasn't happened to you, then maybe I'm crazy.
I'm taking a walk ... I start thinking about work. Need to send an email and resolve a scheduling conflict next week.
But before I send my email, I need to check the production grid to find out when my show airs. (I'm a TV producer for a weekly magazine show -- the show airs different times each week, usually Fridays).
So I get home, cozy up to the laptop and turn it on.
My home page is my Yahoo email account. I see that I got a Facebook message from a friend of mine.
I go to Facebook to answer him.
We send messages back and forth for a few minutes, then my phone rings.
It's him on the other line. We talk for a while, and I find out he works out at my gym. He works out in the mornings, and I work out in the .... well, I never go.
We agree to meet at 7:15 (yawning already) this week to start working out together.
Next message on email account is a group meetup. I answer ... now I have plans for Monday morning and Monday evening.
My answer leads to another email... "hi how are you?" ... we email back and forth a little bit ... turns out she's playing in a poker tournament on Thursday ... I go back to the web to join the poker game ...
Another email from my mom ... need to call my grandmother...
Pick up my cell phone ... there's a text message on there ... Someone from my basketball rotisserie league with a question about his roster...
I go back to the web to answer his email ... another facebook message ...
And the cycle begins anew ...
Time to take a shower and go to work...
I never checked the schedule to see when my show airs .... I never emailed our scheduler to resolve the potential conflict.
I never even called my grandmother.
But I found time to write this ... ADHD, or the era in which we live?
So far this morning, I've taken a walk ...
And now that I'm going to the gym again ... the morning walks will soon stop ... thank God! They're not as productive as I thought.
Saturday, April 17, 2010
Saturday, February 6, 2010
Today, with the inspiration of a good friend coursing through my veins, I sat down to write a blog. I went to Blogspot.com. I was prompted for my email and for a password. I filled in my email, and, just for the hell of it, typed in my normal password for all things that won't corrupt my identity (we all have that ONE password -- don't we?)
Well, much to my surprise, a page opened up with my picture and the title "Life of the Unemployed.".
I had signed onto this website, created an account, and started a blog back in May of this year.
I completely forgot that I did this.
Depression contains a great many symptoms, and rears its ugly head in many ways. Sadness, loneliness and feelings of helplessness are the common ones.
Forgetfulness, lack of focus, and general airheadness (not a word, forgive me) are the symptoms hidden below the surface. Not as well-known, but sometimes even more harmful.
Lets rewind just a bit. I take you back to 10 am this morning, Saturday, February 6th. I have the day off from my freelance gig that I was fortunate enough to get back in September. I have virtually nothing to do, so I decide to sort through my inbox on my Yahoo! account, and clean out some 2000 emails that have accumulated over the last year.
I began diligently deleting the emails I no longer needed, and keeping the ones I thought might be useful at a future date. I read the headline of each one, and in a few cases, opened them up and read the emails themselves.
Not a good idea for a guy who's borderline anxiety disorder and severe depression.
Going backwards, there were the emails traded with my ex-wife in October and November about who's keeping this and who's keeping that, and why I'm such an asshole, and why couldn't I just have stayed sane, this whole thing wouldn't be happening.
There were the emails traded with my current boss back in August about coming up to the big city to take the job -- salary, hours, resumes, etc...
There were the emails from July, traded with newfound brothers and sisters of severe depression disorder. We had all met at a mental institution for people with suicidal tendencies, and we had become good friends. Funny what a dormlike atmosphere can do for human beings. We, of all ages, suddenly acted like we were 18 again, guzzling coffee from midnight to six, giddy at the fact that there were no doctors, no volunteers, no authority late at night. Not wanting to go to bed because you don't want to miss out on all the fun everyone was having. And these were sad, lonely, and depressed people.
Ironic.
How did I end up in a mental institution, you may ask.
Let's go back even further. Back to October of 2008. After 13 years with one company, I'm handed a pink slip. Just like that. 28 of us at once. No notice. It's just business, we were told.
I begin looking for another job immediately. I get two offers within two weeks. One on the west coast, one in the midwest, either one meant putting our house up for sale and moving out of the city we had grown to love. And it also meant my fiancee giving up her job, as a nanny for three beautiful children.
I chased the salary. I took the job in the midwest. Big mistake.
It took me three weeks to realize this was not the job for me. My boss and I came to a mutual understanding that I would be let go at the end of the year.
(Author's note: just heard that this company has now gone through 5 people in my position since I left)
So to sum up -- laid off twice, selling a house in a down market, and getting married (in Seattle by the way -- over 1500 miles away from where we lived). Welcome to 2009. It's no wonder Prince didn't sing about this year.
My fiancee was fantastic leading up to the wedding. She was planning everything. She didn't miss a detail. But the stress of the wedding (and the sale of the house -- we closed one week before the wedding) finally got to her on her wedding day. She freaked out (no better way to explain it). She told our bartender to fuck off; she left the reception in tears. It didn't go perfectly and that wasn't good enough for her. She had put so much effort into this one day -- and it didn't help that I had done virtually nothing when it came to the planning process. There are duties that a soon to be husband should perform, and I didn't.
The stress of the wedding, the joblessness and the potential homelessness was too much for us. We fought during our honeymoon.
We returned from our honeymoon homeless and unemployed, living in her parents basement.
There were no jobs. Literally. None. We had nothing to do, and all day to do it. The fighting increased. She held the imperfect wedding against me. Same for the honeymoon. My depression became a larger part of my life.
Hoobastank -- The Reason.
"I'm not a perfect person.
There's many things I wish I didn't do.
But I continue learning,
I never meant to do those things to you.
And so I have to say before I go,
that I just want you to know:
I found a reason for me to change who I used to be.
A reason to start over new, and the reason is you."
After a month in her parents basement, she took a job in Texas. We moved, and stayed with some very generous friends for a little while. Eventually we got our own apartment. Moving a four bedroom house into a one bedroom apartment with a garage is not simple, but we managed.
The job search was not going well. There was an opening in my position in Washington DC. I had not been offered so much as an interview, but I didn't let that deter me. I told the person posting the position that I would be in DC anyway visiting family and maybe I could drop by to check things out. He said sure -- he was eager to meet me. This was a guy who 6 months earlier had told me my resume was fantastic and he would try to get me in anyway he could. I flew to DC and went to visit him. He took me on a tour of the facility, introduced me to everyone from his boss to the interns. We spent an hour and a half there. Then we went into his office. I felt that I would get a job offer right then and there. So what was said next hit me like a hurricane.
We've filled the job already. Sorry bout that.
Uh, do you guys validate?
It was about a month later that my depression worsened. I found myself unable to focus, unable or unwilling to do the mundane everyday things, like take a shower. This must have been when I tried to start blogging, and I created my profile on Blogspot. I just couldn't bring myself to follow through with it. (By the way, I have no idea where that picture was taken... I don't remember doing anything like that)
One evening, after a particularly bad argument with the wife, I was in the shower, and I just started crying uncontrollably. It was about the third time in a month.
I checked myself into the mental hospital the next morning. I was diagnosed with severe depression. I spent five days in the hospital, and another month in an intense outpatient group therapy, that has seen bloom several friendships, one of which is most likely lifelong. For that I am grateful.
The marriage was on the rocks, there was no doubt about that. My wife visited me a couple times in the hospital, but acted like everyone had cooties the entire time she was there. Supportive she was not.
I moved out shortly after I got home from the hospital. It was something I needed to do.
Several weeks later, I received a job offer from a company about three hours away. I moved, she did not, and we began the divorce process.
I'm sorry that I hurt you,
It's something I must live with every day.
And all the pain I put you through,
I wish that I could take it all away.
And be the one who catches all your tears,
That's why I want you to hear:
I found a reason for me
to change who I used to be,
A reason to start over new,
And the reason is you.
Laid off, hired, laid off, married, homeless, divorced. In a span of 13 months.
Obviously, there is something symbolic about going back through old emails and deleting them. If that wasn't enough symbolism for one day, I cleaned out the trunk of my car as well.
It felt really good.
Later that afternoon, I went out to get my car detailed. I took a wrong turn, and found myself driving in circles trying to find this place. I pulled into a gas station (the third time I drove by it) and asked for directions. Upon exiting, I noticed that the guy holding the door open for me was an old friend from LA. Small world. I remembered that he was from this city, even played some football for the college here in town. We talked about who we've kept in touch with, traded phone numbers and made tentative plans for beers later in the week.
After 6 months in a brand new city, maybe I've found a friend.
Let's hope.
Well, much to my surprise, a page opened up with my picture and the title "Life of the Unemployed.".
I had signed onto this website, created an account, and started a blog back in May of this year.
I completely forgot that I did this.
Depression contains a great many symptoms, and rears its ugly head in many ways. Sadness, loneliness and feelings of helplessness are the common ones.
Forgetfulness, lack of focus, and general airheadness (not a word, forgive me) are the symptoms hidden below the surface. Not as well-known, but sometimes even more harmful.
Lets rewind just a bit. I take you back to 10 am this morning, Saturday, February 6th. I have the day off from my freelance gig that I was fortunate enough to get back in September. I have virtually nothing to do, so I decide to sort through my inbox on my Yahoo! account, and clean out some 2000 emails that have accumulated over the last year.
I began diligently deleting the emails I no longer needed, and keeping the ones I thought might be useful at a future date. I read the headline of each one, and in a few cases, opened them up and read the emails themselves.
Not a good idea for a guy who's borderline anxiety disorder and severe depression.
Going backwards, there were the emails traded with my ex-wife in October and November about who's keeping this and who's keeping that, and why I'm such an asshole, and why couldn't I just have stayed sane, this whole thing wouldn't be happening.
There were the emails traded with my current boss back in August about coming up to the big city to take the job -- salary, hours, resumes, etc...
There were the emails from July, traded with newfound brothers and sisters of severe depression disorder. We had all met at a mental institution for people with suicidal tendencies, and we had become good friends. Funny what a dormlike atmosphere can do for human beings. We, of all ages, suddenly acted like we were 18 again, guzzling coffee from midnight to six, giddy at the fact that there were no doctors, no volunteers, no authority late at night. Not wanting to go to bed because you don't want to miss out on all the fun everyone was having. And these were sad, lonely, and depressed people.
Ironic.
How did I end up in a mental institution, you may ask.
Let's go back even further. Back to October of 2008. After 13 years with one company, I'm handed a pink slip. Just like that. 28 of us at once. No notice. It's just business, we were told.
I begin looking for another job immediately. I get two offers within two weeks. One on the west coast, one in the midwest, either one meant putting our house up for sale and moving out of the city we had grown to love. And it also meant my fiancee giving up her job, as a nanny for three beautiful children.
I chased the salary. I took the job in the midwest. Big mistake.
It took me three weeks to realize this was not the job for me. My boss and I came to a mutual understanding that I would be let go at the end of the year.
(Author's note: just heard that this company has now gone through 5 people in my position since I left)
So to sum up -- laid off twice, selling a house in a down market, and getting married (in Seattle by the way -- over 1500 miles away from where we lived). Welcome to 2009. It's no wonder Prince didn't sing about this year.
My fiancee was fantastic leading up to the wedding. She was planning everything. She didn't miss a detail. But the stress of the wedding (and the sale of the house -- we closed one week before the wedding) finally got to her on her wedding day. She freaked out (no better way to explain it). She told our bartender to fuck off; she left the reception in tears. It didn't go perfectly and that wasn't good enough for her. She had put so much effort into this one day -- and it didn't help that I had done virtually nothing when it came to the planning process. There are duties that a soon to be husband should perform, and I didn't.
The stress of the wedding, the joblessness and the potential homelessness was too much for us. We fought during our honeymoon.
We returned from our honeymoon homeless and unemployed, living in her parents basement.
There were no jobs. Literally. None. We had nothing to do, and all day to do it. The fighting increased. She held the imperfect wedding against me. Same for the honeymoon. My depression became a larger part of my life.
Hoobastank -- The Reason.
"I'm not a perfect person.
There's many things I wish I didn't do.
But I continue learning,
I never meant to do those things to you.
And so I have to say before I go,
that I just want you to know:
I found a reason for me to change who I used to be.
A reason to start over new, and the reason is you."
After a month in her parents basement, she took a job in Texas. We moved, and stayed with some very generous friends for a little while. Eventually we got our own apartment. Moving a four bedroom house into a one bedroom apartment with a garage is not simple, but we managed.
The job search was not going well. There was an opening in my position in Washington DC. I had not been offered so much as an interview, but I didn't let that deter me. I told the person posting the position that I would be in DC anyway visiting family and maybe I could drop by to check things out. He said sure -- he was eager to meet me. This was a guy who 6 months earlier had told me my resume was fantastic and he would try to get me in anyway he could. I flew to DC and went to visit him. He took me on a tour of the facility, introduced me to everyone from his boss to the interns. We spent an hour and a half there. Then we went into his office. I felt that I would get a job offer right then and there. So what was said next hit me like a hurricane.
We've filled the job already. Sorry bout that.
Uh, do you guys validate?
It was about a month later that my depression worsened. I found myself unable to focus, unable or unwilling to do the mundane everyday things, like take a shower. This must have been when I tried to start blogging, and I created my profile on Blogspot. I just couldn't bring myself to follow through with it. (By the way, I have no idea where that picture was taken... I don't remember doing anything like that)
One evening, after a particularly bad argument with the wife, I was in the shower, and I just started crying uncontrollably. It was about the third time in a month.
I checked myself into the mental hospital the next morning. I was diagnosed with severe depression. I spent five days in the hospital, and another month in an intense outpatient group therapy, that has seen bloom several friendships, one of which is most likely lifelong. For that I am grateful.
The marriage was on the rocks, there was no doubt about that. My wife visited me a couple times in the hospital, but acted like everyone had cooties the entire time she was there. Supportive she was not.
I moved out shortly after I got home from the hospital. It was something I needed to do.
Several weeks later, I received a job offer from a company about three hours away. I moved, she did not, and we began the divorce process.
I'm sorry that I hurt you,
It's something I must live with every day.
And all the pain I put you through,
I wish that I could take it all away.
And be the one who catches all your tears,
That's why I want you to hear:
I found a reason for me
to change who I used to be,
A reason to start over new,
And the reason is you.
Laid off, hired, laid off, married, homeless, divorced. In a span of 13 months.
Obviously, there is something symbolic about going back through old emails and deleting them. If that wasn't enough symbolism for one day, I cleaned out the trunk of my car as well.
It felt really good.
Later that afternoon, I went out to get my car detailed. I took a wrong turn, and found myself driving in circles trying to find this place. I pulled into a gas station (the third time I drove by it) and asked for directions. Upon exiting, I noticed that the guy holding the door open for me was an old friend from LA. Small world. I remembered that he was from this city, even played some football for the college here in town. We talked about who we've kept in touch with, traded phone numbers and made tentative plans for beers later in the week.
After 6 months in a brand new city, maybe I've found a friend.
Let's hope.
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