Marriage

I married a very high-energy, work-motivated man. Adderall is the only way I can keep up with my husband. In the last two weeks, I have been amused to see him falling asleep on the couch or for naps with or without the children while I keep on doing.

I don't write this as a point of pride. I find it funny. And when I am resting after all of this, I will also find it a bit sad.

Margaret Talbot on "Cosmetic Neuroscience"

http://www.newyorker.com/reporting/2009/04/27/090427fa_fact_talbot?currentPage=all

http://www.npr.org/templates/story/story.php?storyId=103274576

And in the New York Times:

http://well.blogs.nytimes.com/2009/04/21/boosting-brain-stamina-with-drugs/

One of the comments posted to Brian Lehrer (WNYC, not linked above) was from a freelance writer who called his use of the stimulant key to his "economic survival."

Wow.

That really startled me, and made me realize that some small reason for my own use mimics his. But my motivation also includes a drive to overachieve, a drive for recognition beyond my existing circles. A drive to find my voice in a world and time where downtime no longer exists.

***

Beyond the first post, I haven't charted how it has made me "feel." That only interested me for about three days, anyway. I noticed pretty quickly that my body adjusted, save for a more rapid heartbeat when I am lying down at night, which by the way I find pretty **cking alarming.

So for two weekend days I went off entirely. The first day I felt really crummy, but I couldn't attribute that Adderall because I had been getting such little sleep with all these deadlines. The second day was better.

Another day I took 10 mg (2 pills) and enjoyed a few hours of unmitigated focus.

Given the alarming heart effects (I have yet to discuss this with the doctor), I am inclined to use it on an as-needed basis, though I need to research whether the heart would better tolerate regular or infrequent use.

I mean, it wouldn't be THAT infrequent. It's like saying, "No, I'll leave the cape in the closet this month. I don't need to fly there."

Gotten

In the fall I took a class at a local adult school called, "Adult ADD: What Is It?" It sounded fun: a little how-to-organize your life class which always draws the womenfolk. The teacher, a professional organizer and mother to ADD boys, covered too little material to magically organize MY life, but her lists of traits rang familiar.

Later, she turned the pathologized traits around: how can they help you?

I appreciated learning that my madcap ways made me creative and even fun.

But sometimes I just want to get shit done.

With two children who are now walking, talking little people who usually respect others and aren't ill, I am ready to breathe some life into the career I have always planned for: writing and teaching.

I already do both. But in a crazy way. My husband watches the kids while I go to campus, but the rest of the week I need to respond to student inquiries, grade papers, run virtual meetings, create lessons. Oh, and I'm finishing my first book to be published in the fall.

And I leave everything until the last possible minute. Everything. Especially the really, really important stuff. I've only improved in small things: putting the keys back in the same spot, having the gift wrapped an hour before the party.

But you should SEE the laundry. And the FILING.

So that's what brought me to the doctor's door.

I know what you're going to say. You need someone to help out. My husband runs his own business and freelances on the side to pay for little luxuries like property taxes. I am angry at the universe that the bulk of domestic duties has fallen on my shoulders, but I am also realistic: I want a career where I can work from home. And that wasn't a result of "wanting to be there for the kids," although that's nice. I've always wanted to hole up and work and save myself the time others spend on the small talk shuffle.

Too bad my perfect work environment requires SELF-REGULATION.

I hadn't been at the doctor's office for three years. Our family pharmacy has no record of prescriptions for me, either. I preferred Omega-3 and SAM-E and essential oils. But deep in my thirties, I was ready to bend my objection to brain medication. I was getting old enough to forget some of the principles forged at 22. I was ready to surrender.

It didn't take long to plead my case. I was sincere and I played sincere. I was 95 percent sure he would write it, given his reputation. He asked the nurse if they had any Adult ADD questionnaires. They didn't. He wrote the prescription anyway.

***

Tonight is the first night. My feet are cold. I was less hungry today. Before going to the doctor, I was eating frosting from the freezer in pure deadline anxiety. I exercise two or three times a week, and walk daily, but the cravings only improve on weeks of really intense exercise. Other days spent working from home can be out of control.

I created this blog to explore the space of contradiction in this medication. In many ways, I felt it would help me live as the best self, the one that gets buried under the chaos. But I also want my life to be even better than that: polished, efficient, brilliant, engaged. Full of achievement that my ego can finally bask in. I want to get rid of my flaws instead of honoring them.

I want my rightful spot among the writers, models and academic performers of Adderall Nation.