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Who would like to use me as an illustration for their ADD textbook?

Recently, I was invited to join a group called “52 Stories” on Flickr. After leaving an exceptionally long and undoubtedly annoying comment in the group’s discussion forum about how I wasn’t sure how this or that would work and how I’d most likely flake out after making a sincere initial effort, I finally posted something. (So here is my sincere effort.) Of course I’m doing it wrong (Moltz! You are my inspiration!) because I think you’re only supposed to post one photo per week to the group – hence “52 stories.”

Also: between these two photographs – click through to Flickr for the rather exhaustive and bizarre annotations (mouse over the images and they pop up) – there are at least 52 stories, so maybe this covers my group participation for the entire year.

Post script: After all the notations in the photos specifically pertaining to issues around psychiatric medications, it occurred to me that amid the papers, I found not one, but two, written prescriptions for ADD-specific drugs (Concerta, in the highest dosage available) – but since I’d managed to lose both prescriptions before getting them filled (while we still had good insurance), they really weren’t much help.

From my office, after an all-nighter of cleaning:

Click through to images hosted on Flickr for annotations.

Click through to images hosted on Flickr for annotations.

  • While I am completely fine with you having already blown through your 52 stories for '09 right here, I do hope you return. Thank you for opening up and sharing part of your world.
  • Ha! Incidentally, this post was almost titled I've Got 52 Stories And Then Some in honor of this Ani Difranco song, but I'm too delicate today to endure the eye-rolling that would surely result. (Can I still love Ani - and for that matter, Dave Matthews - if I say I'm doing so ironically?)

    Oh God I'm such a douche.
  • I'm laughing at this because it is characteristic of my own clearly diagnosed ADHD. I have been at the garage/office reorganization for over a month now. The trash is gone, because they charge for the dumpster so I was on a deadline. What isn't trash, however, is halfway put away and halfway not. In the meantime, ADHD #2 son has moved a desk, chair, iMac and other bits into one of the prime storage areas there, staking it out as his own with his two drumsets back-to-back, as if they are guarding the sacred musician-space in what is left of my garage storage.

    I think I just have to accept that I will never, ever be organized or otherwise efficient in these areas..
  • Heh. You know, we recently got some forms from my daughter's doctor - questionnaires for her teacher as well as for us to fill out about her own ADHD propensities (she's never been formally diagnosed, but every doctor she's seen and every teacher she's had has noted the issue). And immediately lost them. Then went back and got two more, which I still haven't lost, although I have lost the appointment reminder card (we're supposed to bring the kid in along with the forms for an in-depth consultation), and I'm panicking that maybe we missed the appointment. Hopefully will remember on Monday to call the front office and ask. (As I always do with the kids' appointments.)

    Eldest daughter isn't nearly as prone to the same stuff, which is interesting since her first few years were extremely chaotic (I had to move with her constantly) - but then, she is not her dad's biological offspring, and he's as ADD as me. So when her sister came along, she got his genes in addition to mine, and thus has the personality of a pogo stick. If I hadn't gone through that particular sequence of experiences (by all rights, if there were no biological component, it should be my first child who has more of these issues, and not my second child, whose earliest years were comparatively calm) - I might still think all this was entirely a socially constructed delusion for the benefit of Big Pharma. Alas, I now know otherwise. (Which is not to say that Big Pharma doesn't over-inflate any number of medical issues in the interests of profit; of course they do.)


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