advertisement

Blogs

What happens to…girls with ADHD when they become adults with ADHD if much of the focus is on men with ADHD? That is the concern of Terry Matlen, ACSW who is a psychotherapist, consultant, writer and coach, specializing in adult attention deficit disorders.
"Driving with your eyes closed doesn't actually make you invisible; but it might as well." Taz Mopula It is widely understood that, to legally operate an automobile in the United States, one must possess a valid driver’s license. It is further understood that driving a car is considered a privilege which can be revoked at any time for various reasons. The individual who drives while intoxicated is considered a menace to himself and society so, to protect the general welfare, police officers are entitled to stop automobiles and administer field sobriety tests. Some jurisdictions even set up Field Sobriety Checkpoints. Inebriated drivers caught in these snares are severely punished, and drunk driving decreases as a result. Well and good, you say, but what’s being done about the equally chilling danger of DWI – Driving While Insane? Sadly, the answer is - not much! But that is all about to change thanks to the imminent introduction of Random Sanity Testing and Sanity Testing Checkpoints!
Today is my birthday, always a day of reflection and gratitude for me.  This year, October 11th comes very soon after Mental Illness Awareness Week, The Jewish High Holy Days, and the publication of my book, Ben Behind His Voices. So much to think about, to share with you. First of all, there is Ben, my son, who gave me my first birthday gift this morning (a mixture of teas he carefully selected himself, taking the time to consider my preferences). This year it is also a gift of self-esteem for him, for it marks the first time in almost a decade that he was able to pay for it himself. 
My oldest son, Bob, has been diagnosed with bipolar disorder and ADHD. In two weeks, I will meet with his school to facilitate a Section 504 plan, as recommended by the school counselor. As I investigate various accommodations available under education and disability law, I'm not sure two weeks is enough time for me to prepare.
You may feel you have to compromise your deepest held beliefs in order to feel accepted. It is important to remember that if you aren't accepted as you are, you aren't really accepted. If you can't be yourself, you aren't really loved. Is that worth the cost? Is sacrificing your identity for people who want you to be someone else worth it?
I have trust issues, but then, I think everyone does. We all grow up with people disappointing us and breaking our trust. It's just a part of becoming an adult. But unfortunately, all relationships are based on trust, and this includes one with a doctor. It's essential to be able to trust what your doctor says and does. You have to be able to believe in what he's saying in order to try treatments that are often unpleasant and might make you feel worse before they make you feel better. But doctors do a lot of things to break that trust, sometimes because they have to and sometimes simply because they do. So how's a patient to get over broken trust in a relationship with a doctor?
Try these words on: Mental illness, mentally ill, relapse,  psychiatry, psychiatrist, psychotropic medication, anti-psychotics, mania, depression, social isolation, side-effects, sickness, disease. How do these words feel applied to you as a person with a mental illness? I can tell you how they make me feel:  Awful, stigmatized, labeled. They make you feel alien. They make you feel alone. Unique in your illness. You might feel like you are the the brisk notes your psychiatrist jots down as you talk to her. You might wonder if those words, scribbled with medical jargon, define you as a person
Treating anxiety you have to teach yourself not to be dismissive, learn not to auto-pilot the waves of panic. Not everything's about 'getting over it'. It's about getting up today, not making yourself sicker. Or it's convincing yourself reality is somewhere stiller, softer, kinder than the one you suspect's lurking round the corner. Just reading the newspaper can cause a blood pressure spike, and sitting down to ‘relax’ I have to trust myself to cope. That's what you do.
"We must be willing to get rid of the life we've planned, so as to have the life that is waiting for us." ~ Joseph Campbell I have struggled with anxiety and depression for weeks. Several mornings I stay in bed, huddled under my covers where it feels safe, until the very last possible moment. I think about the life I had before I developed anorexia. My husband and I were still together, sharing life and love, enjoying each other's company and spending time with family and friends.
This week, I encountered yet another insurance / psychiatric medication prescription snafu. Bob's old Seroquel prescription had run through its refills and I submitted a new prescription for his bipolar medication from his psychiatrist. Blue Cross Blue Shield refused to pay for it. Why? Because their monthly limit is 102 tablets. Bob's prescription for his psychiatric medication was written for 105. Yes--splitting hairs over Three. Pills.

Follow Us

advertisement

Most Popular

Comments

Tali
I look forward to being unconscious for 4-6 hours every night (if I'm lucky). I don't dream. It's the only relief I have. I used to enjoy video games, but my husband hated me playing them so I gave them up. I had my own business but my husband told me I had to stop, so I did. He walks out on me whenever I don't do what he wants. He's allowed to have hobbies and I better not complain, just take care of the kids. My whole life had to be given up because it suits him and I've become nothing more than a maid and a babysitter. I love my kids but I just don't think I can take him finding some new thing to take away every September when he starts ignoring all of us because of the fair he acts in every year that time. He straight out told me this year he loves fair more than me. I don't have anything left to try for, I'm not a young lady anymore. I don't want to die, but I don't want to live...live...survive anymore. I doubt what I've been doing can be qualified as living. Thing is the rest of the year he's good to us. But somehow it's always me, I'm the problem, he just turns it around. Always carry on, carried on before, like a machine. This time I don't have it in me. I swear if he says one more time to me if doesn't get to do one of his many hobbies he'll get depressed and kill himself I'm just going to lose it. He doesn't care what I've been carrying these past 12 years. Doubt he noticed. He didn't notice when he left for fair with me fresh out of abdominal surgery to take care of a newborn, 1 year old, and 3 kids under 10. Apparently it interfered with him so much he was annoyed with me for not being fully healed from it after only one week. Not sure who told him people heal from major surgery in a week, but whatever. I doubt he even notices unless it inconveniences him, but he'll only get mad if it does. I wish I had some helpful or inspiring words, but I don't. I'm just existing with no reason anymore. I had reasons before, but they don't make sense anymore. I want to cry, but even that is too much effort.
Roxie S. Mitchell
Exactly what I needed to read right now. After all, I've grown up being abused and then screamed at for crying afterwards, so this article is very insightful because it helps us realize that crying is actually a normal part of being a human. Thank you for this!
Sandy G.
To Kelly Torbitz-Your parents punished you properly by making you wear the diaper and rubberpants.As a mom,i have heard of older girls being punished with diapers and rubberpants and i think it helps shape them up.The diapers and rubberpants are not only worn for punishment,but also to make girls feel cute and little girlish.
Word Warrior Mama
On the other hand . . .

I read this book many years ago, just as I was entering the turmoil of remembering, questioning and doubting myself all the way (as I'd been covertly taught over a lifetime). I happened to mention to my two sisters one day, "This is so strange but I've been diagnosed with PTSD." Both my sisters surprised me by responding, "Me too."

THEN I happened upon an old book manuscript that my now deceased father had written (not published), wherein the protagonist was obviously based upon himself and he rapes his "fiancee," who had my unusual name. Yes, truly.

Then I made myself look at the peculiar memory I always had where he violently threatened me but somehow I had never been able to recall what came before or after the episode. I had to admit that was a bit strange.

The pressures and powers to forget sexual abuse are great, both in family and society. In fact, I've come to the sad conclusion that the vast majority of survivors never really deal with their childhood wounds (a neglect for which there are always repercussions).

To critique an encouragement of people trusting their intuition in such matters is really getting the prescription dangerously wrong.
Christina
I hear your voices. Can you please help me let me know what medication you’re on. You could save lives with this information. My email is christinacrawford555@hotmail.com
Thanks!