kettish
01-25-09, 03:43 AM
Hi there. :) My name's Allison. Just thought since I was new I'd go ahead and post a history for y'all.
I grew up in a small Southern town daughter to some really poor teachers. Really poor. REALLY. In elementary school I did exceptionally in my classes, but towards the end of fourth grade started having problems-paying attention, doing assignments both in and out of class, etc. I didn't have any friends (and didn't understand why that was until just recently) and was generally picked on.
Still, my parents loved me, I had good siblings, my teachers liked me well enough, and we moved often. I grew up thinking all life was change, confusion, and learning to adapt to the two.
When I got to high school though my mother finally settled us in Atlanta. I started having problems. Tired all the time. Snappish. Still wasn't doing homework, etc., and my stepfather told me for so many years that I was lazy and irresponsible that I believed him. I also got involved in writing games (roleplaying), and became increasingly obsessed with them, to the point of exhaustion. I went to two different therapists in that time period, both of which told me I was depressed and had a general anxiety disorder to boot. I didn't want to take medication for it though, because my parents had always given me the impression that it wasn't right. I went to therapy, tried to do well in school, still almost failed high school. Other than my school work I didn't really get into trouble; I knew that the minute I tried something, I was always the one that got caught. So I kept my nose clean!
After a few years of talk therapy once a week, I graduated high school by the skin of my teeth and joined the Army. (Hell, I didn't want to go back to school! *shudders*) It was amazing. They told me what they wanted me to do, how they wanted me to do it, and then they let me go at it. THAT, I could do! I loved every second of it. Unfortunately...it didn't love me. Lol. I was given a medical discharge after being in for nine months for 'tendonitis' that was really a back nerve issue.
I did meet the most amazing man while I was in, though. ;) My husband, now. I'm pretty sure he's ADHD, actually, but that's a topic for another post!
After I got out I went through some bad times. Two months after I got out, Vince (DH) deployed to Iraq, and I was left alone, barely able to walk, in pain, and alone. (I know I said it twice. It was the most important part.) I went back to the army docs and told them what I'd been told for years: I was depressed. But this time I knew I couldn't handle it on my own, and didn't have two years to establish a good rapport with a therapist. So I asked for meds.
Doctor gave me amytriptaline, which, oddly enough, helped with the nerve pain (it's used for that as an off-label prescription) but not the lethargy. I would spend days at a time in bed with my computer, talking to my husband when I could and waiting for him to get back on the rest of the time. I slept, I ate, I used the bathroom and took my dog out. That was it.
My family became understandably worried about me. My grandma suggested I try going to school to take my mind off my hubby being gone; that sounded plausible, I supposed, and she was offering to pay for the first semester...how often do you get offered free college? I agreed.
Predictably enough, it was a disaster. I couldn't sleep at night, or wake up in time for my classes, or do the assignments...I couldn't even manage to take my trash out or do my dishes, I was supposed to write a paper on ethics in the educational system? Didn't happen. I withdrew before midterm so that I wouldn't get failing grades (and so my Gran could get a partial refund). I couldn't get up to go anywhere early-doctor's, interviews, nothing. I lost several job opportunities because of it, and I maintain to this day that if I'd been on meds while the VA was processing my claim for disability, I'd've kicked their butts between their ears and gotten more than twenty percent!
Time went by, and I sort of wallowed. The insomnia kept me from making friends, which kept me from getting out, which kept me from making friends...and so forth. Eventually, a friend of mine's mom came to visit; the mother worked at a mental health hospital, and also thought I was having severe depression issues. But she was invaluable-she helped me clean and declutter my apartment sufficiently so that I could keep up with minimal sanitation. She didn't make me feel embarassed about the mess my home had become. It was the best thing I could've asked for, hoped for, and indeed I hadn't thought anyone ever would. I'd gotten myself into this mess, I had told myself, and I'd get myself back out. But I couldn't let anyone see it. I'd do it myself. Kay busted that wide open and let some sunlight in.
More time. Another year. An acupuncturist from Korea (my wicked mind kept reminding me that he couldn't be more cliche if he tried!) took the pain from my legs, and I could walk by myself again. The VA gave me a little money, but I was spending faster than that plus my husband's pay could keep up. Buying new things made me happy. I got to choose, exactly, what I wanted. And in my mind I was trying to 'remake' myself, and was still trying to push the image of a lazy child and an incompentent human being out of my head.
After my husband got home, things were good for a little while. We drank heavily on the weekends and had arguments. I searched around for a job, but in today's economy and with my work record (which isn't that terrible, but just isn't exceptional) it didn't happen for a while. I talked things over with my husband this Christmas and admitted how unhappy I had been for so long. Staying in the same house all day because I couldn't walk, and then couldn't drive, and then we only had one car so that when he came home he had to go to work...trying to keep things clean, and make amazing meals (for us both, I looooooved food), and help him come to terms with things he'd seen in Iraq...it was too much. I neded something different. I told him I needed to continue moving forward with a career outside of the home or I was going to be miserable for a long, long time.
To my surprise, he was shocked. The times we'd been living together, both before and after he was deployed, were some of his happiest memories, and he thought I'd been happy too. He told me to try going back to school again, to pick whatever I wanted this time (instead of what I thought I could get a job doing-English, editing, blech!) and to go for it.
But, uh-oh, I told myself. School. You sucked in high school, you sucked last time you tried college, you're gonna suck again if you don't get some meds and some help. I scheduled an appointment with my doctor, who was new to me, and when the day came I made myself get up and go to it.
I told the doctor almost all of what I've told you, except for the alcohol, as I'm pretty sure now that both my husband and I have/had/probably will have alcohol dependency issues for a while. She looked me in the eye, and asked, "Has anyone ever tested you for ADD?"
(This is where I snorted and told myself that I needed to get another doctor, in case you're wondering.)
No, no one ever had. Duh. I wasn't hyper ever. And I didn't have problems focusing-my mother told me that I was 'empathetic' to the point of having a sixth sense. My therapists said 'that's nice' and asked me what made me feel sad. My father figures told me to get my butt up off the bed and go do homework. And the doctor explained to me very carefully how women tend to have ADD as opposed to ADHD or AD/HD, and that oftentimes in girls it goes undiagnosed for years. She was so certain that she actually dismissed military medical protocol and went ahead and gave me medication right then and there-20mg adderall xr, to take once daily first thing in the morning. She said, "if this works, you'll know it, and if it doesn't, you'll DEFINITELY know it. Come back and see me again in a week."
Best. Week. Ever! I was scared to try the medication at first-it did say 'possibility of sudden death' on the bottle, after all!-but I girded my loins and made myself do it anyway. It was amazing. It was like, all my life I had been trying to gather complex equations of thoughts from clouds of stimulus, and would mostly get it right...and suddenly the numbers lined up for me, in order, coming directly into my brain as they were supposed to be read and solved. I got up out of bed, let my dogs out on time, on a schedule, cleaned my house, got paperwork in order...
I read a couple of books. I read "Driven to Distraction," that ADHD classic, and wondered if I was just really, really high on the adderall, because that didn't sound like me at all. I also read an excellent book on ADD inattentive type in women and young girls, and the normal lifestory of the woman who goes undiagnosed for years. It was then that I understood, that comprehension dawned, and I am happy.
I'm still remorseful-grieving for the years of schooling I could've done so well in, of all the self-hatred I have to unteach myself now. I'm learning that it's OK to need a crutch or two-my planners (I have two), my whiteboards, my filing system and the tiny organizational steps I started taking just before that doctor's appointment. It was OK that I had to leave my keys in the same place every time or I'd lose them. It was OK that I needed to be on a strict schedule for the day. It was OK that sometimes I had great ideas and had to write them down IMMEDIATELY, or else I'd lose them.
There's still so many things I regret about my childhood, about the way so many women are feeling the same things. I would love to do something special for each and every person who's going through this right now, or has before, or will in the future. Whatever I could to help and comfort in those first few hours. And I'm relearning myself; apparently, I like my paper clean, a certain brand of pen (which I graciously allow myself to buy), and I always have to have a small notepad. I enjoy educating other people on everything I know about from dog breeds to ADD (not an expert there yet, lol) to cooking. I love my dog and cat but not my husband's dog because it's a husky and it WHINES ALL THE TIME. (SERIOUSLY.)
I learned that it's OK to get aggravated with my husband, because he's still where I was and will undoubtedly return to occasionally. Worse for him, as he's in the military, and they will not prescribe medication for ADHD. Worse for him too because I'm sure the woman he thought he knew and loved has just up and changed on him, gotten organized, gotten a little more anal. I'm not afraid to ask him to turn off either the tv or his music, as having both on is jarring to me, and I'm learning that he's still going to love me. I'm not afraid to ask him to do things around the house-and I'm getting agitated when he doesn't!
It's like this whole new world of Possible just opened up for me, all in the space of two weeks. There's a whole new me inside, and a whole new world outside. I know this has been an impossible long post, and I apologize-if it makes you feel better, I've got to be at work in four hours, but couldn't sleep tonight because of a dosage adjustment to my meds. Lucky me. ;) And it's a little worrying to me, but it'll be ok. If I mess up a little tomorrow, my boss will forgive me, as long as I'm careful not to do it again, like most people in the world.
Peace be with each and every one of you-you'll be seeing a lot of me from now on! -Allison.
I grew up in a small Southern town daughter to some really poor teachers. Really poor. REALLY. In elementary school I did exceptionally in my classes, but towards the end of fourth grade started having problems-paying attention, doing assignments both in and out of class, etc. I didn't have any friends (and didn't understand why that was until just recently) and was generally picked on.
Still, my parents loved me, I had good siblings, my teachers liked me well enough, and we moved often. I grew up thinking all life was change, confusion, and learning to adapt to the two.
When I got to high school though my mother finally settled us in Atlanta. I started having problems. Tired all the time. Snappish. Still wasn't doing homework, etc., and my stepfather told me for so many years that I was lazy and irresponsible that I believed him. I also got involved in writing games (roleplaying), and became increasingly obsessed with them, to the point of exhaustion. I went to two different therapists in that time period, both of which told me I was depressed and had a general anxiety disorder to boot. I didn't want to take medication for it though, because my parents had always given me the impression that it wasn't right. I went to therapy, tried to do well in school, still almost failed high school. Other than my school work I didn't really get into trouble; I knew that the minute I tried something, I was always the one that got caught. So I kept my nose clean!
After a few years of talk therapy once a week, I graduated high school by the skin of my teeth and joined the Army. (Hell, I didn't want to go back to school! *shudders*) It was amazing. They told me what they wanted me to do, how they wanted me to do it, and then they let me go at it. THAT, I could do! I loved every second of it. Unfortunately...it didn't love me. Lol. I was given a medical discharge after being in for nine months for 'tendonitis' that was really a back nerve issue.
I did meet the most amazing man while I was in, though. ;) My husband, now. I'm pretty sure he's ADHD, actually, but that's a topic for another post!
After I got out I went through some bad times. Two months after I got out, Vince (DH) deployed to Iraq, and I was left alone, barely able to walk, in pain, and alone. (I know I said it twice. It was the most important part.) I went back to the army docs and told them what I'd been told for years: I was depressed. But this time I knew I couldn't handle it on my own, and didn't have two years to establish a good rapport with a therapist. So I asked for meds.
Doctor gave me amytriptaline, which, oddly enough, helped with the nerve pain (it's used for that as an off-label prescription) but not the lethargy. I would spend days at a time in bed with my computer, talking to my husband when I could and waiting for him to get back on the rest of the time. I slept, I ate, I used the bathroom and took my dog out. That was it.
My family became understandably worried about me. My grandma suggested I try going to school to take my mind off my hubby being gone; that sounded plausible, I supposed, and she was offering to pay for the first semester...how often do you get offered free college? I agreed.
Predictably enough, it was a disaster. I couldn't sleep at night, or wake up in time for my classes, or do the assignments...I couldn't even manage to take my trash out or do my dishes, I was supposed to write a paper on ethics in the educational system? Didn't happen. I withdrew before midterm so that I wouldn't get failing grades (and so my Gran could get a partial refund). I couldn't get up to go anywhere early-doctor's, interviews, nothing. I lost several job opportunities because of it, and I maintain to this day that if I'd been on meds while the VA was processing my claim for disability, I'd've kicked their butts between their ears and gotten more than twenty percent!
Time went by, and I sort of wallowed. The insomnia kept me from making friends, which kept me from getting out, which kept me from making friends...and so forth. Eventually, a friend of mine's mom came to visit; the mother worked at a mental health hospital, and also thought I was having severe depression issues. But she was invaluable-she helped me clean and declutter my apartment sufficiently so that I could keep up with minimal sanitation. She didn't make me feel embarassed about the mess my home had become. It was the best thing I could've asked for, hoped for, and indeed I hadn't thought anyone ever would. I'd gotten myself into this mess, I had told myself, and I'd get myself back out. But I couldn't let anyone see it. I'd do it myself. Kay busted that wide open and let some sunlight in.
More time. Another year. An acupuncturist from Korea (my wicked mind kept reminding me that he couldn't be more cliche if he tried!) took the pain from my legs, and I could walk by myself again. The VA gave me a little money, but I was spending faster than that plus my husband's pay could keep up. Buying new things made me happy. I got to choose, exactly, what I wanted. And in my mind I was trying to 'remake' myself, and was still trying to push the image of a lazy child and an incompentent human being out of my head.
After my husband got home, things were good for a little while. We drank heavily on the weekends and had arguments. I searched around for a job, but in today's economy and with my work record (which isn't that terrible, but just isn't exceptional) it didn't happen for a while. I talked things over with my husband this Christmas and admitted how unhappy I had been for so long. Staying in the same house all day because I couldn't walk, and then couldn't drive, and then we only had one car so that when he came home he had to go to work...trying to keep things clean, and make amazing meals (for us both, I looooooved food), and help him come to terms with things he'd seen in Iraq...it was too much. I neded something different. I told him I needed to continue moving forward with a career outside of the home or I was going to be miserable for a long, long time.
To my surprise, he was shocked. The times we'd been living together, both before and after he was deployed, were some of his happiest memories, and he thought I'd been happy too. He told me to try going back to school again, to pick whatever I wanted this time (instead of what I thought I could get a job doing-English, editing, blech!) and to go for it.
But, uh-oh, I told myself. School. You sucked in high school, you sucked last time you tried college, you're gonna suck again if you don't get some meds and some help. I scheduled an appointment with my doctor, who was new to me, and when the day came I made myself get up and go to it.
I told the doctor almost all of what I've told you, except for the alcohol, as I'm pretty sure now that both my husband and I have/had/probably will have alcohol dependency issues for a while. She looked me in the eye, and asked, "Has anyone ever tested you for ADD?"
(This is where I snorted and told myself that I needed to get another doctor, in case you're wondering.)
No, no one ever had. Duh. I wasn't hyper ever. And I didn't have problems focusing-my mother told me that I was 'empathetic' to the point of having a sixth sense. My therapists said 'that's nice' and asked me what made me feel sad. My father figures told me to get my butt up off the bed and go do homework. And the doctor explained to me very carefully how women tend to have ADD as opposed to ADHD or AD/HD, and that oftentimes in girls it goes undiagnosed for years. She was so certain that she actually dismissed military medical protocol and went ahead and gave me medication right then and there-20mg adderall xr, to take once daily first thing in the morning. She said, "if this works, you'll know it, and if it doesn't, you'll DEFINITELY know it. Come back and see me again in a week."
Best. Week. Ever! I was scared to try the medication at first-it did say 'possibility of sudden death' on the bottle, after all!-but I girded my loins and made myself do it anyway. It was amazing. It was like, all my life I had been trying to gather complex equations of thoughts from clouds of stimulus, and would mostly get it right...and suddenly the numbers lined up for me, in order, coming directly into my brain as they were supposed to be read and solved. I got up out of bed, let my dogs out on time, on a schedule, cleaned my house, got paperwork in order...
I read a couple of books. I read "Driven to Distraction," that ADHD classic, and wondered if I was just really, really high on the adderall, because that didn't sound like me at all. I also read an excellent book on ADD inattentive type in women and young girls, and the normal lifestory of the woman who goes undiagnosed for years. It was then that I understood, that comprehension dawned, and I am happy.
I'm still remorseful-grieving for the years of schooling I could've done so well in, of all the self-hatred I have to unteach myself now. I'm learning that it's OK to need a crutch or two-my planners (I have two), my whiteboards, my filing system and the tiny organizational steps I started taking just before that doctor's appointment. It was OK that I had to leave my keys in the same place every time or I'd lose them. It was OK that I needed to be on a strict schedule for the day. It was OK that sometimes I had great ideas and had to write them down IMMEDIATELY, or else I'd lose them.
There's still so many things I regret about my childhood, about the way so many women are feeling the same things. I would love to do something special for each and every person who's going through this right now, or has before, or will in the future. Whatever I could to help and comfort in those first few hours. And I'm relearning myself; apparently, I like my paper clean, a certain brand of pen (which I graciously allow myself to buy), and I always have to have a small notepad. I enjoy educating other people on everything I know about from dog breeds to ADD (not an expert there yet, lol) to cooking. I love my dog and cat but not my husband's dog because it's a husky and it WHINES ALL THE TIME. (SERIOUSLY.)
I learned that it's OK to get aggravated with my husband, because he's still where I was and will undoubtedly return to occasionally. Worse for him, as he's in the military, and they will not prescribe medication for ADHD. Worse for him too because I'm sure the woman he thought he knew and loved has just up and changed on him, gotten organized, gotten a little more anal. I'm not afraid to ask him to turn off either the tv or his music, as having both on is jarring to me, and I'm learning that he's still going to love me. I'm not afraid to ask him to do things around the house-and I'm getting agitated when he doesn't!
It's like this whole new world of Possible just opened up for me, all in the space of two weeks. There's a whole new me inside, and a whole new world outside. I know this has been an impossible long post, and I apologize-if it makes you feel better, I've got to be at work in four hours, but couldn't sleep tonight because of a dosage adjustment to my meds. Lucky me. ;) And it's a little worrying to me, but it'll be ok. If I mess up a little tomorrow, my boss will forgive me, as long as I'm careful not to do it again, like most people in the world.
Peace be with each and every one of you-you'll be seeing a lot of me from now on! -Allison.