Confessions of an ADD'er Part 3: The Dark Side

This is part three in a series about my experiences with Attention Deficit Disorder. See Part 1 and Part 2.

Imagine yourself standing on the edge of a cliff. It is night. Behind you is a giant mass of light, noise and pain. It is a huge swirling angry cloud that you desperately want to get away from. It is all the noise, stress, personal failures, headaches, body pain, disappointment, self-loathing, bad experiences, forgetfulness, longing, and misery of your daily existence. In front of you, over the edge of the cliff, is nothing but silence and darkness. Peace. Tranquility. Glorious nothingness. All you have to do is step over the edge. . .

For many ADD'ers, the most debilitating part of their condition isn't the lack of organization, the forgetfulness or the constant buzz of information in their heads. It's the hopelessness, the inability to get out of bed, the lack of energy, the general malaise, the aches and pains, the feelings of personal failure and worthlessness and the contemplation of suicide. That's right, I'm talking about depression.

ADD'ers are 2.7 times more likely to be moderately to severely depressed than the general population. They are 7.5 times more likely to have mild depression, also called dysthymia.

The constant daily frustrations with being forgetful, disorganized, scatter-brained, thick-headed and constantly distracted can push an ADD'er into depths of misery that few people experience. Add in the normal stresses of daily life and it gets even worse. It is a misery that is beyond comprehension and beyond all rational thought.

Many ADD'ers also suffer from addiction and substance abuse in their efforts to "self-medicate." They are looking for an escape from the constant tempest going on in their heads. They may turn to alcohol or illegal drugs in an effort to silence the noise and get away from the stress.

Other ADD'ers suffer from Bipolar Disorder, anxiety attacks, learning disabilities or insomnia. Or a combination of symptoms.

Add all these things together and it's a wonder that an ADD'er ever makes it out of bed in the morning. But if you think I've covered it all, you're mistaken. There's more.

Confessions of an ADD'er Part 2: I'm Sorry, Were You Saying Something?

This is part two in a series about my experiences with Attention Deficit Disorder. See this link for part one.


What is Attention Deficit Disorder?

Here's a medical definition from add.org:

"Attention Deficit Hyperactivity Disorder (AD/HD) is a condition resulting in symptoms of inability to maintain attention, impulsive behaviors and/or motor restlessness. . .

AD/HD is a neurobiological disorder resulting from problems in the dopamine neurotransmitter systems in the brain. Most cases are genetically inherited. If a parent or close relative has AD/HD there is a 30% chance that a child will have AD/HD.. . AD/HD is not caused by poor nutrition, ineffective parenting, drugs, or allergies. . .

People who can focus only on things that interest them, and disregard less interesting things, are often faced with additional problems such as an academic underachievement, lack of social skills, disorganization, or difficulty completing important tasks. These often result in difficulty with personal relationships, staying employed, or completing an education. People may also stimulate themselves by doing reckless or dangerous activities and thus complicate their lives with physical and legal problems."

Now that we've gotten the technical definition, let me give you my definition:

Imagine that you're standing in a room surrounded by televisions on all sides. ONE of those televisions is displaying what your eyes see and what your ears hear. The remaining televisions are all playing back stuff that's already in your brain: Movies you watched, places you visited, people you spoke to, books you read, television shows you watched, television commercials you watched, the argument you had with your spouse, the fish you just fed this morning, your dog barking at the mailman, your to-do list, your messy office that you have to clean, the assignment you were just working on, your favorite song, the song that you HATE but can't get out of your head, and so on.

All of these televisions are playing at the same time, and they're all changing their content continuously. Oh, and add a few radios in as well, each playing some pop song or radio ad jingle you heard recently.

Add to that the itch on your arm, the fact that you have to go pee, the eggs you are supposed to pick up from the store on your way home, the car really needs new tires, these shoes make your feet hurt, you really should cut the grass before the neighbors complain, your kid is expecting you to show up at the school play this afternoon, your boss is talking to you and did you see that bird that just flew by the window?

That bird was really big and it almost hit the window - BUT YOUR BOSS IS ASKING YOU AGAIN FOR YOUR ANSWER!

All of the televisions and radios suddenly shut off and you're left staring at your boss with a look on your face that says,"I'm sorry, were you saying something?" As the realization dawns on you that you're expected to reply in a coherent manner, you try to think of something temporary to say to get your boss to restate their request like, "I'm not sure if I understand what you're saying," but you know that if you say that and his question was "why were you staring out the window," you'll look like an even bigger idiot than you already do. At this instant, one of the radios in your head pops back on and starts playing the one song that simply won't leave your head, despite your best efforts.

"RAH RAH AAH AAH AAH! ROOMAH ROOMAH AAH! GA GA OOH LA LA! WAH CHA BA RAH MAS!" Now of course, you know that she's not actually saying "WAH CHA BA RAH MAS." She's actually saying "Want your bad romance," but because of her odd vocalization it sounds a bit ---OH MY GAWD MY BOSS IS STILL WAITING FOR ME TO SAY SOMETHING!!

Now before you ask -- Yes, this has actually happened to me. Granted, the song wasn't Lady Gaga's "Bad Romance," but you get the idea.

The mind of an ADD'er is constantly filled with sounds and images, all competing for attention. A lot of the time, there's not even a complete sound or image - just a fragment or two. I'll hear a few notes played on a guitar over and over again until hours later I can finally remember that it's the guitar riff from the Little River Band's "Reminiscing." Or I'll hear the SAME pop song play over and over in my head. All of these sounds and images overlap constantly and make it very difficult to hang onto a coherent thought. And because the sounds and images overlap, my brain will connect them to each other. For example, the word "Reminiscing" a few sentences ago reminds me of Big Daddy Kane rapping in "Back On The Block" by Quincy Jones, ". . .as I reminisce before this the bliss that exists, but now we brought about a twist. . ." which reminds me that Siedah Garrett and Chaka Khan were also singing on the same album which makes "I'll Be Good To You" start playing in my head, and didn't Ray Charles sing on that song as well. . . and so on.

ADD'ers don't "allow" their minds to wander; their minds are doing it all the time, which is why doctors prescribe stimulants to people with ADD and ADHD. Stimulants provide an extra "boost" that allow the brain to discard extraneous stimuli. Think of it like a receptionist in a busy office. The receptionist decides what information is important, what is not, and what is IMPERATIVE. The receptionist only allows the important and imperative stuff to go back and see the boss. In a regular brain, this function is automatic. In the brain of an ADD'er, this function is diminished. As an example, even as I type this, I hear Lady Gaga in my head shouting "LOVE LOVE LOVE! I WANT YOUR LOVE!" Please help me.

Attention deficit is the big above-water part of the iceberg that is ADD - the part that everyone can see and recognize. There is even bigger part; a part that is below the water and hidden. It's this hidden part that can make life unbearable for an ADD'er, and I'll touch on that in the next installment.

Confessions of an ADD'er Part 1: Forgetful Jones

Author's Note: An "ADD'er" is a person with Attention Deficit Disorder. These essays are from my experiences as an adult with ADD.

Hello.

It's very nice to meet you. What was your name again? Please don't be offended; I'm terrible with names. You see, the moment that you tell me your name, I've got it. It's there, right in front of my brain. And in the next instant - the next microsecond of time - it's gone. Gone like it never existed. Gone like we never even met.

I've read that I should use memorization techniques like repeating your name back to you as I shake your hand. I do.  I'll even repeat your name to myself a few times in my head as we make polite conversation, but the polite conversation is sabotaging my efforts to remember your name. I'll say your name to myself as I'm walking away from you. But the instant my attention gets drawn to another person or thing, your name is as good as gone.

But sure, you say, lots of people have trouble memorizing names. You may even have trouble memorizing names yourself. And you'd be right. But we've now reached the spot where “normal” stops, because this isn't limited to just names. It also includes directions. How to get to the shopping mall? Easy. It's down this road to Front street, turn left, then go about a mile and a half and turn right on Elm. You can't miss it. Only I will miss it  because as you're telling me the directions, they are entering a bottomless pit of information. The moment you stop talking, it's as if you never even opened your mouth. Why I even bothered asking you in the first place is a mystery.

The problem also exists with instructions. My boss would tell me a list of things to do. Nothing extravagant; just three simple tasks. Thing one, thing two and thing three. By the time thing three leaves his mouth, thing one is already hopelessly lost and thing two is in the process of vanishing. I make a desperate mental effort to recover thing one and hang onto thing two, which means that I never even hear him say thing three. I walk out of his office, confident that I haven't a clue as to what he wanted me to do, and if I just started working for the company, I have no idea what his name is.

Ever have a moment where you get up  and go to another room to do something or get something and then forget what it was you were doing? Normal, right? Sure. Only to me it happens over 70% of the time, and I don't even have to leave the room for it to happen. I don't even have to get up. I'll know that I was going to do something, but the something has vanished. I'll open the pantry to get a teabag -- with my teacup in my hand -- and stand in front of the pantry like a complete idiot while I try to remember what it was I was doing. The phrase that most often leaves my mouth is, “Okay, what am I doing?” I utter that phrase nearly a dozen times a day.

"Honey-Do" lists? Gone. Very Important Things that I MUST do? A fuzzy haze. What happened yesterday, the day before or the week before? You're kidding, right? I almost never know what day of the week it is, and my perception of time either drags like watching the second hand tick by in school while waiting for dismissal, or zooms by so fast that I wonder why it's getting dark so early.

I'm not saying that I forget everything, because I don't. But unless it has a particularly strong meaning or fascination to me, or it was a particularly strong stimulus, it may as well never have happened. The memory is in there. I know it is because if I sit myself down and make myself think -- hard -- I can catch a glimpse of what it is I'm trying to remember. Not the entire memory; just little flashes that pop in and out of my head.

I can generally remember things I have to do while I'm doing them, but only while I'm concentrating on doing those things. Consequently, I HATE being disturbed or distracted from what I'm trying to accomplish because I know that once I stop working on a task to do something else, it's extremely hard to go back to my stopping point because I will have forgotten where I was.

Writing things down certainly helps, but unless I write down everything, including what it is I'm writing down, why its important and what I need to do with this tidbit of information, its almost useless to me. A phone number and a name is useless. I need a phone number, a name, who this person is, when and why I need to call them. Experts say that writing things down helps you remember them because it makes you think about it multiple times, which is great, but I tend to write things down so I won't have to rely on my memory. Once it's written down, it vanishes from my head.

I used to carry around a little notepad so I could jot stuff down as necessary. It worked out rather well, but I stopped using it because handwriting is such a chore. It's also dreadfully slow; especially when you add in the need to include context information. I would frequently forget the details of what I was writing down as I wrote it, simply because it was taking so long. Having a PDA helped out quite a bit, as it allowed me to quickly jot things down and organize the information. Sadly, PDAs have lost their fashion-trend status and are no longer manufactured. You either have to spend lots of money on a "smartphone," or get a cheap "digital organizer" with much less functionality. My current phone has note-taking capabilities, but it's limited to 140 characters per note - the size of a text message or Tweet. And I can't organize the information - which makes it useless. Very handy for grocery lists, though. . .

Forgetfulness is just the tip of the iceberg that is my daily ADD experience. There are many other challenges and frustrations that I and other ADD'ers deal with every single day.  I'll go into those experiences in future "Confessions of an ADD'er." Up next: The Attention Deficit part of ADD.