I am a 55-year-old man. I’ve suffered from ADHD all my life, I’m sure of it. Not to go too far into my past, I will say it was quite “unsafe” for a child. I have much anger and guilt around many things I saw and experienced.
This story begins and ends with me living in the present. I am functioning as a husband. I hold down a job in the television industry. I want us to have a child at the tender age of 55.
After years taking Adderall, my doctor switched me to Vyvanse and a tiny light switch went on. The new medication gave me a sense of clarity and what I would call positive mental attitude. I was on my way.
No drug is a magic potion. Take it for what it is, an opportunity. After taking the drug for going on two years, I realized the ADHD remained, and if anything was worse. I once again filled the cracks in my life with my old classic ADHD behaviors. Every time I didn’t feel well, I would find something unhealthy to do.
I spent hours and all my energy on Internet sessions. I’d vacillate between porn and gossip sites. I’d drink bottles of bourbon whiskey, chased with IPA (most carbs) beer. I am drunk right now and thinking cocaine would be just the thing to help me sort things out. I would eat all day and night, a steady diet of the worst junk food you can imagine. I ate entire jars of peanut butter and grape jelly in one sitting.
I would write long lists of things to do to get my life on track – starting next Monday – or first of the month. Then I’d smoke a pack of cigarettes, and a joint to make it all bearable. I’d dream that one day everything would change and I would be on top of the world. Yet here I sit watching old movies I’ve seen before and crime shows on Lifetime for hours and hours.
At 4 a.m. I crawl into bed, having ignored my wife all evening. I am afraid, alone, ashamed and manic. I sleep for two hours before my wife nudges me in my side. I am obese and need to use a CPAP machine, and she doesn’t want me to die in my sleep. At 7:30 am. she reminds me it’s time to take my thyroid meds, high cholesterol meds, high blood pressure meds, and so on. You get the picture. And at last my Vyvanse.
Okay here is where this story ends. I have ADHD. My friends and family don’t care. They don’t get it. Some of them have it too, but they don’t know it. This is my reality every day. There is a happy ending though. At 7:35 AM, right before I take my Vyvanse, I feel great. I see the possibility in the world because I at least know what cracks are out there waiting for me to fall into.
No drug is a magic potion. ADDA is not a magic potion either. ADDA reminds me of the possibilities of getting ahead of this thing. And every morning, night and moment.. I’m looking for the cracks… so I don’t fall into them.