For the past week I have been taking some well needed time off. I will continue to do so for a bit more. In the meantime however, here is an article about emotional states. I can personally attest to the accuracy of some of these that I have felt in the last six month.
As I have mentioned in a previous post, I have been chatting with a young lady with the same first name as my blessed ex. We have been sending SMS’s back and forth. I have her designated in my phone as “‘name’ (The Good One)”. However, every time she sends me a text message all I see is her first name and, like Pavlov’s dog, my heart goes “KA-BOOM!”
A friend of mine put this link on Facebook.
DO NOT CLICK ON THAT LINK AND READ THE ARTICLE OR YOUR HEAD MIGHT EXPLODE! The gist of it is that Leon Eisenberg, a pioneer in the field of child psychology and psychiatry has allegedly said that “ADHD is a prime example of a fictitious disease.”
The old me would have unleashed the torrent of sarcasm directly in the comments but Yours Truly is trying to become a more social creature and cut down on sarcasm. So I just unleashed a tiny little tinkle of sarcasm. But that does not by any means entail that I will be remaining silent on this issue. So here we go.
What a ridiculous crock of biased, ignorant shit. I’m sorry but it is. Eisenberg gave the alleged interview months before his death and the interview was not published until after so the ole’ Leon isn’t around to explain it. The fella that published the article has a long standing bias against the pharma industry and there are no other witnesses to Eisenberg’s change of heart.
Now, nobody who knows me would ever accuse me of being a Big Pharma’s shill – one of these days I am going to write a little something about Big Pharma and patents. But as someone with first hand experience as someone who worked with children with ADHD and as someone who has it, I can guaran-fucking-tee that ADHD is damn real. I wish that it wasn’t but hiding one’s head in the sand and claiming that ADHD does not exist and that vaccines cause autism spectrum disorders, and that Scientology cured Tom Cruise’s dyslexia will not help anyone, lest of all the people who need that help the most.
It is a testament to how tired – exhausted, even – Yours Truly truly is (see what I did there? I am that tired), is that I have been posting so sporadically and so short a postings. I am really looking forward to having time off work and not being constantly under the stress of obligations. Just a few more days…
The great non-alcoholic experiment continues. While I took a one day break on Saturday due to various celebrations, I am continuing to learn how to deal with social situations without embibing alcohol. It is entirely too weird a feeling. However, if I am to be able to overcome my issues, it is imperative to learn how to deal with my social anxiety.
Ironically enough though, I am about to go buy a bottle of wine. As a gift!
I’ll be processing this for a while… An old friend, who has fallen out of touch, reached out recently to reconnect with me. We chatted for a bit. She told me that she has been going through some really dark time and that she is currently dealing with the filing sexual assault charges against a family member for stuff that happened when she was little. She also asked me how I have been doing. What could I tell her? “Well, there’s this thing that happened earlier this year… I’ve been uhhhh… You know what? I am fine.”
I did tell her in broad strokes about my stuff. If nothing else, she knows she is not alone. Her fiancé is a great guy and he is very supportive but regardless of the nature of the trauma, nobody who has not been there could know what it is like to peer into the black emptiness of rock bottom. One of the things we spoke about is the healing properties of blogging. She has opened an account on a blog platform some time ago but never wrote anything because she has been approaching it from the wrong side. Between getting her to blog and possibly bringing her around to improv, I just might be helpful in getting her back to being her old happy self.
I’m hanging out with a group of improv people. At this point only the girls are left and they are talking about contraceptives (pills and such). At this point the choice is going home or secreting estrogen.
Last night’s dreams were pretty weird. I think I dreamt about every regret in my life. Yes, her included.
I usually enjoy my dreams. Often enough they are like big Hollywood productions. There are exciting storylines, fantastic special effects, surprising twists. It is like watching a movie and being in it at the same time.
But last night’s fare was more of an art house cinema: dark and no happy end in sight. Which is a good reminder that although I am as “over” her as one can be, my underlying problems are still hanging over me like a depressing sword of Damocles. For so long the pain over our breakup hung over Yours Truly’s eyes like a veil of pain and sorrow and obscured the view behind it. Now that this veil has been lifted, the giant snowball of problems accumulated over the last two decades is in plain view: daunting, looming, casting a shadow over everything in my life. Why did I not seek help earlier? Why did I not go see a therapist a year and a half ago when I have originally asked for a referral? Why did I not do it over ten years ago when I was initially diagnosed with ADHD and was strongly encouraged to speak to a professional about my depression issues?
Few days ago, I was chatting with my improv friends. The conversation came to a topic of age (because as it turns out, one in our midst was somewhat of an overachiever and has just completed his post-doc at the tender age of 27). So the psychology grad in the group has mentioned her view of mid-twenties as a time of self-discovery, when one goes down the dark path inside oneself and looks at the dark and horrible figure within, points at it, and asks the eternal question: “Who are you?”. (She may or may not have had a few beers by the time I joined the party. I had a good reason to be late – I was having a slight anxiety attack.) In any case, it seems I’m a decade late to that existential internal trip as well.
Interesting Daily Prompt today… What would I do if I unexpectedly lost a loved one?
About four and a half months ago, the one I thought of as “the love of my life,” the one who – for the first time – made me feel like the life is worth living, has left me in a rather less than gracious manner. So my reaction to that loss was to go into a complete mental and emotional meltdown. Granted, the breakup was not the source cause of that but it did send me flying over the edge. That dark time became the darkest and lowest in my experience. I went from being with the most amazing woman in the universe to contemplating ending my existence. Without her in it, life made no sense to me. It felt as though my soul had been torn asunder and a giant hole in my chest was then filled with cold and heavy darkness. A darkness so crippling that it was nearly palpable. In other words, Yours Truly did not handle that loss well. That dark time continued uninterrupted until Thursday before last, which is when I finally grasped what a prick of a woman she really is. That said, even though I am no longer under her spell, I still have feelings for her. I probably always will care for her.
Moving on is hard. Through her behaviour she certainly made it much easier for me to do so but it is never easy. She did not die but the person I have loved with all of my heart, with every fibre of my being, with the entirety of my existence is gone and I am mourning that loss. I am mourning the loss of what I thought we shared, of the way she made me feel, of the future I dreamt we would have had together.
This blog is the record of this process. It is also the most surprising consequence of the breakup. I was never a “writer.” Writing was never an enjoyable activity. Reading has always been a staple of my life but writing has been a tremendous chore. The unending stream of compositions in school was the bane of my existence. And yet, starting this blog felt like a natural action to take in response to the events that overtook me. Not only has writing this blog helped greatly in my therapy, it has also made my life better. It made me more aware of many aspects of my life.
In retrospect, this is the lesson that You has learned: if you experience a traumatic event, do something (an activity) that you would have never considered doing before. In order to deal with a traumatic event, you need to think about it, to consider it from different points of view. That is hard to do if you are constantly obsessing about it. Shockingly, obsession and considered thinking do not exactly have a symbiotic relationship. So start a blog, sign up for a pottery class, volunteer – just get yourself out of your own head.