Tag Archives: Adult ADD

It’s Times Like These You’ve Just Gotta Say, When In “Post Concussive SyndROME”

…still don’t quite understand what that phrase means…

Where to start…

While I can be very good at playing my cards close to the chest (well, to not give myself that much credit, I’ll say that it’s certain cards I’m very good at playing close to the chest)—to keep things hidden, private—it just seems to be an unshakeable, unchangeable part of my nature to be completely open and vulnerable with damn near anyone one I have the pleasure of interacting with. To bare me. Good, bad, and ugly. And another part of my nature that I just can’t seem to alter? It comes incredibly easier to bare the bad and the ugly of and in me—to convey and share all my faults—than it does for me to share what’s quote unquote, good (yes, I wrote out quote unquote rather than simply putting quotation marks. It was a stylistic choice to emphasize my point, and I have the freedom as a writer to use it, godammit.).

That being said, for whatever reason that it’s so easy for me to share the bad and the ugly and all my faults and eccentricities—and beyond that, to share what I’ve learned from them, by them, and everything associated with them—I cannot for the life of me convey just what it’s like to be me. That is, to think how I think, feel how I feel, and struggle with what just what struggle life is like for me on a day in and day out basis.

Perhaps that’s why I get so emotional when I come across any form of media on the internet where someone who shares in my…afflictions…my…struggles…my…daily challenges I constantly face with what feels like no sense of relief. My emotional reaction has nothing to do with a sense of camaraderie that I feel with these individuals. When I’m faced with an article, or a video, or some such piece of media that makes me bawl up and ball up, it doesn’t stem from a heartfelt thought that I’m “not alone in what I feel and struggle with,” (though I both don’t see anything wrong with that, and am truly encouraged that there are other individuals out there that share struggles with my own) no, I break down emotionally because I’m finally facing and hearing my struggles and my difficulties through words and conveyances with a clarity and articulation that I could never have expressed myself.

Like some “out-of-body experience,” I’m witnessing everything I wish for people to know—no, to understand—about my struggles, expressed in such a way that makes such sense; in a way that I believe everyone, in whatever way they are related to me, can understand.
In a way that just…clicks.
In a way that I hope translates to a better, more rounded, and honestly—cards on the table, here—more sympathetic understanding of me as a whole.

Which is why after seeing this latest video, I feel so inclined to share it.

Lemmie back up a bit and give some background here first.
If you weren’t aware, I was involved in an auto accident on 13.August. My infant son and I were rear-ended by an F-150 going between 30-45mph while we were at a complete stop.
On the surface, with both damage to the car, and injuries sustained, everything appeared rather minimal. We were able to drive ourselves to the ER to get checked out, and thankfully my son checked out just fine at the ER and has been since, suffering only a pretty good scare. And I, looked to have just sustained some whiplash, sprained wrist, hurt shoulder, and general other discomforts.

Then came a couple days later. The car—drivable to this point, though the backside body was evidently damaged—suddenly ceased to start. Come to find out that the impact completely damaged the fuel pump (amongst other technical parts I don’t know or care to explain).

I myself went for a followup appointment with Primary Care, where it was deduced that the force of the impact no doubt caused my shoulder to dislocate, and—more than that, the impact was great enough that the dislocation could (and did) possibly damaged the ligaments in my arm. Further, I had (have) sciatica in both legs, and back pain that just won’t quit.

This was the initial diagnosis. All physical. Because I didn’t hit my head, nor did I ever lose consciousness during the accident.

I was put on leave from work for three weeks so as to give my body time to heal.

Flash forward to when I start work again. (And, I cannot emphasize this enough, this begins the heart of all of what I’m getting at.) I’m noticing all sorts of symptoms that I did not anticipate to be the case upon returning.
And they don’t go away.
In a desperate act to find out what’s going on, I post the following question to Facebook:

facebook

And then I begin noticing more and more stuff that started to worry me. I forgot my wife’s phone number…consistently. I had trouble remembering a lot of things, in fact.  And attempting to do so cause that pulsating pressure headache to flare up. I couldn’t do puzzles or math correctly, and if I focused too hard, that pulsating pressure headache would flare up again.
Soooo…I schedule another appointment with Primary Care. This time addressing everything I’m feeling neurologically—which is affecting the rest of me physically.

And then came the exams…
And after that, the diagnosis.

Not only did I sustain a concussion from the accident, but I fall into a small category of concussive victims who get (or have) what’s called Post Concussive Syndrome. It’s convoluted, and I still don’t fully get it, but from what I was told, those with this diagnosis maintain the symptoms of a concussion for any given time-frame…indefinitely.
If you’re confused as I was, my doc explained it this way: with the impact of the accident, the force was so strong that it not only caused my shoulder to dislocate, but in the process of dislocating, that force on my arm and shoulder damaged ligaments. It wasn’t as if my shoulder just popped out. It popped out with enough force to damage all the ligaments that attach it together.
With that in mind, he then explained how that same force impacted my noggin. I may not have hit my head, but my head did fly forward with the same force that threw my shoulder out (hence the whiplash). And because I told the ER that I didn’t hit my head, nor lose consciousness, they didn’t check for any neurological damage.

So that’s where I’m at.
No…that’s the start of where I’m at. And that’s where I come back around to certain parts of the internet explaining things far better than I can. Because just where am I at? Well just tonight—at work—after a particularly difficult day physically, mentally, but especially emotionally, I came across this video. And after watching it, crying, wiping away tears so I could help customers, I came to the conclusion that this was the best any only way to share what’s going on. If you only watch through her description of Post Concussive Syndrome, and what it’s like, that’s good enough. I’m not looking for how best to “deal with” me in this condition.
My goal is what I stated in the beginning of this post.

And so we begin with VIDEO #1 showcasing my neuroses:

Here’s the problem, I don’t just have Post Concussive Syndrome. That’s not the only neurological diagnoses that I’ve been given.
I’ve been diagnosed with adult ADD—Attention Deficit Disorder.

I’ve also been diagnosed with OCD—Obsessive Compulsive Disorder (or, as I joke, CDO…because that’s the letters alphabetized, AS THEY SHOULD BE…). And if you think you understand what OCD is, I encourage you to go check out the following article:
http://themighty.com/2015/02/i-have-ocd-this-is-what-its-like-to-be-in-my-mind-for-3-minutes2/

Buuuut…if you don’t want to read, on to VIDEO #2 of my neuroses showcase:

Lastly, I suffer from anxiety and panic attacks. Now this is one of those things that I tend to be able to hide pretty well…this is a set of cards I’m very good at playing close to the chest. But just because I don’t show it, does not mean that the emotional state is not there raging inside of me. For the most part, I think you can tell when my anxiety kicks up and I’m suffering a panic attack because certain “ticks” of my OCD go full throttle.

But in case you’re wondering what I’m feeling on the inside—regardless of what my exterior may present, VIDEO #3 should give a very clear image of what someone goes through:

So that’s where I’m at.

Here it is almost two weeks after being diagnosed with Post Concussive Syndrome;
here it is almost three weeks of being back to work—almost two since being diagnosed with Post Concussive Syndrome;
here it is, two weeks of toughing it out working in an environment that is completely and utterly not conducive to my condition.
Here I am—being told that the only remedy is rest, both physically and mentally—struggling to follow through with doctor’s orders.

Because honestly, how can I.

And I mean to genuinely ask: how can I?
And I’m not just talking about an inability to not work due to financial reasons. I’m talking about with a mind like mine,
How.
Can.
I.
Rest?
My mind is constantly racing from one thing and thought to another thanks to my ADD.
There’s a lack of order EVERYWHERE which flares up my OCD.
I’ve realized that not having things in the sense of order that I need makes my head ache and I get dizzy and feel light headed and nauseous now thanks to the Concussion symptoms.
So now my OCD is in overdrive simply to keep my PCS symptoms at bay.
All of this—the thoughts, the questions, the struggling with order and my own physical well being and people depending on me and needing to get better which means needing to rest but I can’t rest because I have so much that needs to get done and only I can do it and there’s no way out so there is no rest which means there won’t be recovery which means I’m stuck where I’m at indefinitely with no way out and no help out and all this pressure pressure pressure on me—all of it then flares up my anxiety and causes panic to kick in which then flares up my OCD more so then I need organization all while my ADD won’t let go of the thought that I need to just stop and get some rest but I can’t just go to sleep and I don’t know why which keeps me up even more which only exacerbates the lack of getting rest bit which then exacerbates the anxiety because I’m scared shitless about not being able to take care of myself and does anybody care? why would they? they have no reason to. and so is this why I’m writing this in hopes of giving reason to care, to look at me differently, to know, to understand, to sympathize with all of this struggle that’s bringing me to a Jack Kerouac style rant as tears fill my eyes and cause my glasses to fog up staring at a screen after 1am while my wife and son are asleep and all I want to do is go to bed but I can’t because I’m not sure if that’s at all what I really want or if all I really want is to be held and to know that it’s okay and I’m okay and all this pressure pressure pressure that I feel from EVERYONE whether they intend to or not is literally mixing me up so much inside that I can’t even convey what I feel besides sharing the videos and saying that now I’m thinking of the Eve 6 song, “Inside Out,” and all I want is to just be free to rest…truly rest…even if rest comes from oblivion, at least it would be rest, but I can’t rest.
I can’t do anything right now but try to finish this post. Because every part of me feels like it is a necessity, every part of me feels like I have to.


But I don’t have to.

Maybe now…here, now, in this sentence, in this line, after everything that just came before, THIS is where I’m truly at.
I don’t really know where that is…
And I don’t really know what my goal in writing this is anymore. I know what I initially sought. I said it in the beginning: understanding…perhaps compassion…sympathy. But right now? Now I don’t know.
Perhaps you can tell me. What was the point.

For now, now I have finally come to the end (of this at least).
And it’s time to lay down in my bed and hope and see—just hope and see—if I can truly get some rest.

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I Gave Up Lent for Lent

Very few of us ever see the history of our own time happening. What more of our view of an event that happens outside of time? Of an event which—to us being in time is, at least, ever happening? What then?

I was outside my job a Wednesday morning not too long ago doing carpool—kid drop off for my school, when a number of parents brought to my attention the overwhelming amount of cars in our shared parking lot with the Catholic church next door. It was one of those overcast, grey days which you one can easily find all too uneventful, yet which is a prime environment for “an event” to happen.

“Why’s it so busy?” “I don’t know,” I responded, until—randomly, it hit me an instant later. “It’s Ash Wednesday.”

Then came the questions. Apparently, there’s this view out there that I am the “go-to” source of information on everything Theological.

To be frank, I had no clue what Ash Wednesday or Lent fully meant to Catholic parishioners until I took the time this last week to look it up. The most I ever knew was that Ash Wednesday the day Catholics put an ash cross on their heads to compete (so my mind made up) with the Hindu Bindi.

And as far as Lent was concerned, well, that was the time McDonalds brought back the McFish (Filet O’ Fish) so that it wouldn’t lose money during the 40 day period.

Beyond that, was only jokes I had made in High School to Catholic kids that they seemed to have a little smudge on their head, and need to go wash. And that Lent was where you gave up something you liked but could do without—something you liked, but not so much that it would be a real burden to go without it for 40 days.
So I’d joke about giving up Lent for Lent. I’d give up (in my eyes) the act of giving up.

But as I said, that day not too long ago, was a day ripe with historical significance—even if to me then and now, I cannot [fully] see it. The only thing I have the ability to do, is tell the story of what I saw; while all the while, something went on outside of my scope of view.

There’s a funny refrain which is sung in the background when your life is consumed with the thought of something else entirely. And it becomes quite clear (at least at some point in life or ultimately, in death) that it isn’t a song of refrain—as if life had suddenly been put on hold whilst you figured out what you needed to, but ultimately, that it in fact, kept going despite.

The nerve of such a thing.

I have been struggling personally, with the possibility that I may have Adult ADD. To some, this is a meaningless term shrouded in mumbo jumbo, psycho-babble which actually under all that “white-washing,” really just means that you have issues with self-discipline, or control, motivation.
It has also been assumed that someone of such a stature only wants an excuse and a prescription for stimulant and nootropic drugs, if only to experience a fictional life seen in films like, “Limitless.”

Within this struggle, my mind has been focused on nothing but what I’ve come to believe to be a sense of healing. Knowing that what I thought to be normal, a life personal to me, a struggle I must face, and then coming to a place where I found out it may not be the case; further coming to a place which stressed a proverbial light at the end of the tunnel, a treatment, I cannot seem to focus on anything else—not passions and pleasures, not hobbies, not anything.

My eye was too fixed on the hopeful light at the end of the tunnel, and my mind too focused on bringing that light into proximity, that I not only couldn’t see the tunnel itself, nor the things in it I’d stumble over, but that that light wasn’t something at the end of a journey, but something which surrounded that journey, if only seeming to be at its end.

While I’m stuck in a place of dying and rebirth (as the “light at the end of the tunnel” is consistently associated with), life—the light, itself is occurring outside my poorly constructed viewpoint.

So I found myself, waking one day (that’s today!), in to the middle of Lent. As I became aware after searching and studying, Lent is a time of preparation and penitence for the coming of Easter. And, Easter, as is understood in the West, is the time associated with the death and resurrection of Christ. I specify “the West,” because it is apparent that inconsequential of your belief in the mere (small) man known as Jesus, or the God (giant) who is known as the Christ, we are all too close in knowledge of Him to be unbiased in our opinions of Him. This has led to the formation of two great armies—battling not only about the man Jesus, but fighting to the end on the vital point of Easter; whether it fits into the celebration of Spring, or whether the celebration of Spring fits in to it.

I myself, am in the camp of stating that both are a symbol, and that neither do what they are symbolizing [complete] justice. Whatever you consider to be the myth, the error lay in the simple truth that the deliberation of the mythology something more mythical than the myth itself.

It has always seemed the case that ‘people of intellect’ have thought that religion and beliefs to be this way. That while they know the truth of all things, those that practice religions are not in on the truth. Let them believe in a symbol of what is actual and real, to be God.
The truth lay in that Jupiter is no God, but a mere planet. Neptune is no deity, but merely the ocean.
The coming of Spring is no return of a God, but a mere cycle of our planet’s rotation around the sun.

Quite plainly, of course, it is in fact the other way around. Jupiter is a representation of the planet, but the planet is a representation of something even greater. Neptune is a representation of the ocean, but the ocean is a representation of something even greater.

The celebration in that Spring represents the returning of the God, and the fertility in that homecoming; and the celebration of the resurrection of Jesus from the dead to life are, admittedly, both mere representations of something “no eye has yet seen, and no ear has yet heard.”

Jesus spoke of the coming of Easter—His death and resurrection as the Now. He spoke of it presently, before it even occurred historically. That that extra-temporal event which was occurring was “the time for judgment on this world;” that it was when “the prince of this world [Satan] will be driven out;” and a time when, “I, when I am lifted up from the earth, will draw all men to myself.” [John 12: 30-33]

I know many to believe and preach that Judgment will occur at the end of time. These are also the same to believe that it’s at the end when evil—Satan, will be finally done away with. But what if this is already occurring? What if it’s an event that is outside of time and thus, taking place regardless and quite independent of what transpires in our lives?

Well then it would mean that it isn’t something which could occur in our lives—as if we choose it, but that our lives occur in, as it choosing us.

And those people that believe it happens at the end of time are at least partially correct, but genuinely miss the scope of it. They see the earth as flat, and that someday, we’ll fall off the end of it—when the timeline ends. But what they don’t see is that the universe—the space we fall in to is all around us, is holding us up, is occurring just outside our scope.

History in the making, outside of history itself.
An event which [seems to] make us; not us making it.
Ash Wednesday is a day of mourning and repentance to God, sacramental in the mythos and doctrine of a return of focus and contemplation of Christ’s sacrifice.
Yet frankly, that sacrifice occurs whether it’s observed or not.

I have not myself been in a state preparation for the coming of Easter. It’s truly been one of the last things on my mind—as it seems all holidays have been right up until their occurrence. Yet Easter has been occurring without my focus on it; and in a sense, my lack of preparation doesn’t mean that it hasn’t been preparing for me.

If Jesus’ words were true, every moment (the Now, and…now, and…now) is a moment where I am not only being judged, but drawn (the Greek word is helko—which is commonly associated with “romance,” thus, I’m being romanced) to Him.

And this which occurs, occurs without me even having the ability to perceive its occurrence.

So this year, I really am giving up Lent for Lent.
I’ve given up attempting to understand a mystery which—by all rights, wants to remain so.
A mystery that I cannot figure out, but seems to me, one that has figured me out.

By doing so, I’ve realized that it is not so much the mystery which I’ve given up, but myself.

And that, it seems, is the true heart of the observance of Lent.

(Part 2…of Sorts)

There will come a time when I—as we all will be, am faced with the Truth, that is, what is real. The funny thing about it will be that I feel it will turn out to be exactly what we all never could completely understand it to be. The mystery of Truth is that even when it will stare into our eyes, we will be no less astounded by its mystery; that is, even when it ought to no more be a mystery that is precisely what it will remain.
For it is not it (Him) who will change, but us.

Many under the impression (dogma) that when the Bible speaks of Justice, of Judgment, it refers to us “getting what we deserve.” Yet this view is inherently flawed for it is still based on our view of what Justice truly is. If this were the case, we would not be in reception of something wicked, but of nothing at all. For what we truly “deserve,” if you want to call it that, is not a bad something, but nothing. We are “deserving,” of neither good nor ill, Heaven nor Hell, paradise nor punishment, but merely non-existence at all. The opposite of God is not Satan, not Hell, but nothingness.

So what is Justice? And ipso facto, what is the “judgment” Jesus refers to? It plainly does not entail humanity, “getting what it deserves,” but must entail God getting what God deserves.

And what is God getting what God deserves? What about, “all glory and honor and praise?” Well what would give Him all glory and honor and praise short of a completion of what He started–namely, the Creation of Man in His image.

This is to say that, while scholars and theologians have got it right, God is good, and we are not (and further, they squabble over which point is more important to focus on); it is in them both which we see the “light.” For God is indeed good, and I indeed am not good–that is to say, my sinful nature “keeps me from Him,” but it is in the very heart of my sinful nature that I come to rightly see just how good God is.

As William James concluded, the only reason for God to create would be out of Love. So why create a man (me, and ipso-facto, mankind) destined to fall short? Why, if for nothing save for the revelation to that man–through falling short, through sin, through never being good enough, never earning it, that He (God) loves him (me, mankind) for no reason at all.
It is in this light which make my sinful nature something to be viewed not as a curse which keeps me from God (though it does, there should be no denying that fact–no remaining on that as the focus should also be avoided), but as a necessity–one in which, through I am able to truly see how much God loves me. And that, at the heart of it all, who and what I am is loved by God for no reason.

With this, the thought of being created with a sin nature, having a story of the “fall,” being set up to fail, fall, miss the mark (vastly) is for nothing but to prove the aforementioned to me (and by me, I mean to include all mankind).

In this, the “judgment” that Jesus refers to occurring “now,” is a revelation to all that we are created for no reason but love, and loved for no reason but being created.

Thus, that “judgment” which occurs can take many forms and even look like destruction. And perhaps it is. Perhaps I am being “destroyed,” but perhaps this only looks this way from my perspective. A slow and steady destruction of the me which—as I get older, there seems to be more and more of, to the point where even when all my mind can focus on is that me, destroyed to see a love of me completely outside of anything I can build up of myself that I deem lovable.

Maybe what is really happening is that I am actually being “created.”
Created in the image of God.
And what to me seems like a lifetime—my lifetime, is to God merely one day.

The ashes placed on the foreheads on Ash Wednesday come from the burnt palm leafs of last year’s Palm Sunday. Traditionally, the palms were a symbol that was laid down when Jesus entered Jerusalem to die; but more symbolically, a symbol of us laying down our lives for Jesus. As such, the act of burning the palms to create the ashes of next year’s observance of Lent can be taken as symbolic of us being burned to ash.

Many can point to the Jesus who said that there are those that God will utterly destroy, basing not only their views of others and their fate on this, but their views of God. Yet this is the same Jesus who says in other places (without distinction or specification as to whom) that he has come to save the sick, the lost—thedestroyed.

Perhaps this-destruction and salvation, is all part of God’s original intention to create mankind in “our [God’s] image.”

Maybe when Jesus said in the Book of Revelation that, “Behold, I am making ALL THINGS new!” This entailed them first being burned, being destroyed.
It is then feasible, that I (and all I’s in this world)—whether we observe it or not, are in Lent every day. Something that does not need to be observed, but something for us to be observed by; something far beyond a 40 day period of fasting and sobriety, but that life itself can be considered Lent. For we are all in lacking, we are all in a missing of what is real, what is true, what is good.

But Easter is coming. And whether I’m prepared for it or not is moot: for it is preparing me. And when it finally comes, ALL men will be drawn to being made new,
to being made [completion],
to celebration,
to thanksgiving,
to truth,
to Jesus.

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