[Patte Rosebank]

Well, my psych believed me (a good thing), and says we need to proceed carefully (also a good thing). Having the diagnostics in-hand, and being able to discuss them logically really helped. Going on the assumption (and he stressed that at this point, it’s still just an assumption) that I’d scored 100% for Combined, he asked me about how I’d come to this assumption, what I was like in childhood, and about what led to my being on medications for depression and anxiety, and how they have and haven’t helped me. The more we discussed it, the more I realized that the depression and anxiety are just the symptoms of having to struggle to function with ADHD. So, for all this time, we’ve just been treating the symptoms, instead of finding and treating the cause. Now what?

The plan is to wean me off the Effexor XR (which will take about 2 weeks, and probably won’t be much fun), but keep me on the Seroquel. Then, I’ll start on a low dose of Ritalin in the morning, with my usual nighttime dose of Seroquel. I’ll also keep a journal of how I’m feeling and functioning for the next 3 months. During that time, I’ll talk with my brother and my parental units daily, so they can also assess how I’m doing. This is how we did it 12 years ago, when my original psych was trying to find the right medicine to treat my depression, and later my depression and anxiety.

When I told my dad about my new diagnosis, and that I’ll be going off Effexor XR and starting on Ritalin, he reacted with too much caution, as he’d done when I’d first told him I thought I was depressive. He’s very concerned about the safety of Ritalin, and the fact that there are so many stories of its being over-prescribed. He said, “The other meds are working for you, so why do you want to change things?”

Why? Because the other meds AREN’T working for me. I still have all the ADHD issues I always had, but now I know why I have them, and the possible ways to fix them.

The awfully big adventure has begun!

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[Patte Rosebank]

If it walks like a duck and quacks like a duck…

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[Patte Rosebank]

Gee, does all that ever sound familiar…except for the marriage part (I’m a confirmed singleton) and the special ed part.

I was a really brainy kid in a really shitty school that catered to the lowest common denominator. I did really, really well, because I didn’t even have to try. When I was transferred out of that school (because I was teetering on the edge of a nervous breakdown, because the other kids were nasty little beasts to me, and the teachers did nothing to stop them), I suddenly had to start really working to earn my grades, and it was hard, but I managed it for daily homework. However, I had a huge problem with procrastinating on bigger assignments. Even so, I made the Honour Roll every year in high school, and graduated with honours. University was when things really went to pieces. I could hardly sit still (sometimes, even keep awake) through lectures. So I cut many boring lectures to study early film comedy (esp. Laurel & Hardy) at Metro Reference Library. I managed to just barely earn a B.A. in English, but I still say I got my actual education at Metro Ref.

After graduating university, I had a succession of temp jobs and a couple of “permanent” ones that both ended badly and rather quickly—much to my relief, as the anxiety and depression of trying to fit into the corporate world was just too much for me.

My brother saw the article about Rick and ADD in the Toronto Star, and forwarded it to me, with a covering note that said, “This sounds just like you!” And it sure did.

I went to this website, took the online diagnostic, and scored 100%. I’ve been on medications for depression and anxiety for years, but still have all that trouble with procrastination, not finishing things, difficulty with paperwork and finances, inability to sit still, etc., and wondering why. So I printed out the printable diagnostics from the website, and I’m bringing them with me to my psych appointment tomorrow. I expect he’ll agree with me that we need to investigate this further.

So, here I am, aged 41, and experiencing my own “Wow, OMG, WTF!” moments. This is the start of an awfully big adventure…

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[Patte Rosebank]

I have tremendous gratitude for the fact that many a screw-up at least gives me another great story to tell.

For example, in January, I went to Vegas for the first time. While there, I got on a big TV game show, won a hundred bucks for knowing a big word, and afterwards, was walking back to the hotel along the Strip, and feeling great.

Suddenly, a rather agitated female security guard rushed up to me, and informed me that I had a 3-foot-long “tail” of toilet paper hanging out the back of my pants, and that people had been taking photos and laughing at me. I realized that it must have somehow gotten caught there when I was changing out of my costume in the restroom at the Tropicana, 45 minutes earlier, and that this probably wouldn’t stay in Vegas, because a hell of a lot of people had photographed or videoed it during those 45 minutes.

What to do…?

Your average person would have been mortified. I, however, burst out laughing, tossed away the TP, and scampered off on my merry way. The poor security guard looked at me as though I’d escaped from somewhere.

But, hey, I got a great story out of it. And now I can truly say that I got big laughs on the Vegas Strip!

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[Patte Rosebank]

My brother has an MBA. He’s the one who steered me to this website in the first place. So maybe, just maybe, some other MBA will drift over here.

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[Patte Rosebank]

It sounds suspiciously like a quack cure to me. Minimal solid proof that it works, but the person providing the treatments claims to have a miracle cure.

On top of that, the woman promoting the treatments is not a medical doctor (psychIATRIST), but a psychOLOGIST. To become a psychIATRIST, you have to qualify as a medical doctor first, then take several more years of study to become a specialist in psychiatry. To become a psychOLOGIST, you just need to complete a degree in psychOLOGY. You’re not a medical doctor, so you’re not able to prescribe medicines or medical treaments. If this psychOLOGIST is promoting these expensive, long-term, pseudo-medical treatments, I’d really be on my guard.

It seems like any illness is an excuse for some people to see dollar signs and sell “cures” that are high on cost, but low on proof that they actually work.

Penn & Teller (the bad boy magicians) and the Amazing Randi (a legend of magic, who uses his knowledge to catch those who use the principles of magic to defraud people) have debunked quite a few quack cures. According to them, all quack cures have this in common: If the condition gets better, then it’s “proof” that the treatment worked. If the condition stays the same, then it’s “proof” that the treatment prevented it from getting worse. If the condition gets worse, then it’s “proof” that the patient didn’t follow it as diligently as he/she was supposed to. (Note that “proof” is in quotation marks, because it’s not really proof of anything.)

Just remember the most basic rule: If it sounds too good to be true, it probably is. Before spending all that money, and subjecting yourself (or your child) to what may very well be useless “treatments”, research those treatments thoroughly (both pro & con) through legitimate medical sources; discuss them with your doctor and/or a medical specialist; find out what Health Canada and other relevant government departments have to say on the matter—-and only then, decide whether it’s appropriate for you (or your child).

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[Patte Rosebank]

Here’s another one from Oscar Levant, that also fits: “It’s not what you are but what you don’t become that hurts.”

Unrealized potential, anyone?

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[Patte Rosebank]

I just found a quotation from Oscar Levant, which seems deliciously appropriate: “There’s a fine line between genius and insanity. I have erased that line.”

Time for all of us to erase that line, and have fun while doing it!

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[Patte Rosebank]

That reminds me of when I was in high school, and struggling with Math (Advanced Math, with a view to getting into university). I was always at the top of all my other classes, but firmly at the rock-bottom of Math.

One day, the teacher had us all do the Pascal Math Contest, just for fun, not to submit it or anything.

Well!

To everyone’s amazement, I got the highest score in the class. As a reward for this, the teacher gave me 5 bonus marks at the end of the term, so I passed the course by 1 mark. But how on earth had I managed to do it? The question puzzled me for a while. Then, I figured it out. The Pascal was all multiple-choice questions. While everyone else was able to do the problems in order to find the answers, I’d had to rely on logic. How many decimal places? What was the last digit (or two)? Through this process of elimination, I’d earned a score of 90%.

This definitely seems to support your theory!

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[Patte Rosebank]

I’m the rarest Myers Briggs type, an INFJ. My brother is an INTJ, which is the second rarest type. He can focus and get stuff done. I can’t. He’s a high-paid, successful business analyst with an MBA, and he’s writing the second edition of his book, now that the first edition has sold out. I have a BA in English (which I somehow managed to just barely get) and my history consists of many years of office jobs (mostly temp), which required so much energy on my part to try to fit in to the office culture, that I simply can’t do them any more. For the past few weeks, I’ve been working on the prototypes of my own line of clothing and accessories, but (you guessed it!) I’m finding it really hard to just knuckle down and do it.

My brother and I are both quite sensitive to some sounds (people & animals chewing and slurping, the cacophony of voices in restaurants and other public places, repetitive sounds, the thumping bass of a stereo), to the point where we have to get out of there, or explode in a rage.

We’re positive that the ADHD tendencies came from our mom, who is a textbook case, and in serious denial. If I’d had my video camera to capture her big Christmas Day freak out, I could have turned it into a training film…but I’d have been disinherited for sure!

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[Patte Rosebank]

I worked in an IT firm, 12 years ago. After a couple of good years, I got transferred to a new boss, who was a Type A, overachieving bully, who got along great with computers, but lousy with people. Despite medical certificates stating that I had clinical depression, which was causing my anxiety and difficulty with concentration, he continued to torment me. Even when my mom went into hospital for an emergency triple bypass (which, of course, did wonders for my emotional state), he seemed completely unable to show any compassion whatsoever.

Finally, he falsified a quarterly revue to justify immediately terminating me. A quarterly review which included the gem, “Basic logical concepts appear to be beyond her limited capabilties (sic)”. (Yes, he misspelled the word “capabilities”.) The intensive psychological testing I subsequently underwent determined that I was in the 93rd percentile for intelligence (i.e. only 7% of people are smarter than I am—So much for basic logical concepts being beyond me), but under severe stress, anxiety and depression. Armed with this information, and proof of my boss’ refusal to make any concessions for my disability, I took the matter to the Human Rights Commission. It took three years, but I eventually won a settlement of 10 times what the company had originally offered me. Unfortunately, by then, I’d racked up huge bills for medications and therapy, which instantly wiped out the settlement.

The topper is that, three years ago, that bullying boss dropped dead of a massive heart attack, at the age of 50. And pretty well anyone who ever worked for him was glad to see the end of him. And I’m still here!

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[Patte Rosebank]

I took driving lessons when I was 17. I remember struggling to stay focused (or at least, awake) during the in-class sessions, and feeling completely overwhelmed by all the information coming at me from all directions while behind the wheel—whether with the instructor, or during practice sessions with my dad, who had won a safe driving rally and was a stern taskmaster. When I took my test, the tester nearly blew out my right ear by screaming, “STOP!”, as I started to advance into a left turn without noticing another car coming at us from across the intersection. Naturally, I flunked the driving test, but I already knew I was one of those people who simply weren’t meant to drive. I swear, most of the people on “Canada’s Worst Driver”, have exactly the same concentration issues as I do, but they either don’t realize it, or lack the sense of responsibility to say it.

Ten years after the driving debacle, I had a whole bunch of psychological tests, which determined that, although I am in the 93rd percentile for intelligence (meaning, only 7% of the population is smarter than I am), I have tremendous difficulty in separating the critical from the trivial when presented with a lot of information. Therefore, my initial conclusion that I wasn’t meant to drive was a very sound one. And, living in downtown Toronto, it’s a very economical one. After all, you can buy a lot of TTC fares and cab rides for the cost of driving a car for a year.

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[Patte Rosebank]

Bloody hell! That sounds like me trying to do anything at all. My apartment always looks like a bomb hit it…a fabric & trims bomb, with some feathers thrown in for good measure. This happens when you are a costumer and a burlesque performer. In fact, I’m still finding rhinestones lurking along the baseboards, from when I made a costume covered in THOUSANDS of rhinestones for a performer, two years ago. I still don’t know how I managed to focus enough to spend 160 hours covering the thing in rhinestones and feathers. Maybe all those sparkly things stimulated my magpie-like brain just enough.

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