This time, I was interviewed for a story about how mental illness can actually make people stronger in their jobs.
My ADD Ran Over My OCD
As I struggle to get through all the stuff to be done at work and home before Christmas, something is occurring to me: My ADD runs over my OCD this time of year.
Mood music:
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I guess I’ve understood what happens for a while now. It’s all part of the seasonal depression that whacks me upside the head come Christmastime. For most of the year my challenge is to control my OCD, to keep it from overtaking my mind and sending me into physical overdrive. But earlier this year, I learned from my doctors that I also have ADD. It feeds into the winter pattern where I’m much more easily tired and forgetful.
Unfortunately for me, December isn’t a time where I can kick back, enjoy my December-itis and let the world float by on pretty clouds. At work, we’re busy finishing up some big projects we’re using to kick off January. At home, there are appointments and Scouting activities to drive the boys to. There are gifts to wrap, laundry to fold, groceries to buy, homework for the kids to finish up and a house to clean.
I’m like Luke Skywalker after he escapes the wampa cave on Hoth in The Empire Strikes Back, flailing around and stumbling in the snow.
So what am I sitting here thinking about? I’m feeling whiny because the damn OCD doesn’t surface when I really need it. As insidious as the disorder can be, it’s pretty damn handy when there’s a lot to do. It gives you a drive other people don’t have.
In recent years I’ve had a lot more success harnessing that piece of it while keeping the darker traits locked away. But when winter roles through, the ADD kicks in and spoils everything.
Funny how this works. It’s like the person who longs for summer heat waves in the dead of winter, then pines for winter’s icy grip when he’s sweating through July and August. In the summer I want to be a little more mellow; in December I need the overdrive to get everything done.
What to do?
Fight it, of course.
Erin’s worried I’m not going to get done everything I have on my plate. I’m out to prove I can get it all done.
What could possibly go wrong?
Me, Duncan and December-itis
I’ve had a lot to say lately about my own efforts to manage winter’s depressive effect on my brain, but this is also a challenging month for my younger son, Duncan.
Mood music:
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I’ve written at length about Duncan and my struggle to help him when his ADHD comes crashing into my OCD. I’m proud of who he’s becoming. But no matter how much progress father and son make on our mental health, December may well remain the month that throws us for a loop.
I feel like I’m having an easier time of it this year. I have depression, but it’s just the tired, memory-challenged kind. So far I’ve mostly escaped the feelings of sadness and outward crankiness of past years. Yesterday I visited the nurse who manages my medication and she doubled my Wellbutrin intake for the winter.
Now it appears to be Duncan’s turn for such an adjustment. His teacher has been praising his behavior all fall but, like clockwork, he started experiencing difficulty in class as the calendar switched to December. We’re hearing about the usual winter outbursts. He’ll argue with classmates, his temper comes to a boil easily and so on.
It kills me every year when this happens, because I know he inherited his mental health challenges from me and my side of the family. It’s not his fault.
The good news is that we’re getting better at anticipating his behavioral changes and responding faster. This afternoon I’m taking him to an appointment where his medication might be adjusted. We’ve also been blessed with some outstanding, nurturing teachers. I was particularly fond of his first-grade teacher, who was there when Duncan first got his ADHD diagnosis. She worked closely with us to make adjustments in the classroom that helped immensely.
His teacher this year is another gem. She meets with us whenever we ask and keeps us informed of Duncan’s progress by email. When he started acting up a couple of weeks ago, she invited us to call her at home in the evening. Few teachers do that these days, and we’re grateful for it. Duncan also has terrific classmates who cheerfully help him stay organized. And when he has a mood swing, they’re patient with him. Impressive, when you consider they are all under the age 10.
I chalk it up to the loving environment of the school. The place is far from perfect, as I’ve noted before. But as time goes on, I’m more convinced he’s exactly where he should be.
The trick now is to get him — and his teacher and classmates — to the other side of winter in one piece.
Too Many Balloons in the Air
A friend on Twitter asked what a person is to do when OCD, ADHD and other mental maladies produce the effect illustrated in this comic strip on xkcd.com:
The illustration really hits home for me, having suffered from OCD and ADHD and having a son with ADHD (the alphabet soup alone is enough to short-circuit a person’s mind). All these conditions have one thing in common: the sufferer tries to keep track of everything going on around them, but that stray balloon always takes them off track.
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Since the sky is always full of too many balloons, we have to learn to let the strays float away so that we can focus on everything else that demands our attention. How to get there is a tough one. But I’m going to try answering my friend’s question based on what’s worked for me in the past.
Getting to the therapist’s office on a regular basis certainly helps, because you can spill out all your cares and a good therapist will help you re-sort the pieces into a picture that makes sense.
But that’s not enough. Since the root cause of these conditions is a brain with misfiring traffic transmitters, I need medication to help the transmitters fire correctly. Prozac helps do that for my OCD, and Wellbutrin helps for the ADHD.
All these things together have made life much better for me and those who have to live with me. But these mental disorders are powerful and no combination of drugs and therapy will drive it from you completely. There are still plenty of those balloon distractions.
I still have a bitch of a time keeping my head in the present moment. If you talk to me for too long, my thoughts will away. I’ll get lost in some memory from the past or get distracted with something coming up in the future. It can be some thing important, like a bill that needs paying, or it can be something trivial, like a family gathering that’s not happening for another month.
Next week I’m starting a weekly mindfulness class where the whole point is to learn to stay in the moment. I’ll be writing about the experience on a regular basis, so stay tuned.
It won’t be a cure-all. But if it helps me let go of a few more stray balloons, it’ll be worth the cost in time and money.