Ever since I was a little kid I knew I had ADHD. I was on Ritalin for years, but eventually stopped taking it. Not sure why, just know I stopped. (Since you know, I don't take it now.)
For years I coped, maybe not getting the best grades in school, but I didn't flunk or anything. I figured I wasn't smart, although deep down I knew that was a lie.
Just wanted to be normal, thats all.
After my grandpa died, my mom wanted me to go talk to someone because no 17 year old kid should be as perfectly fine as I was. And for her sake, to make her feel better and not worry, I did. I sat down with a shrink and we didn't talk about much. I don't like talking about how I feel or what goes on in my brain. (At least I didn't until I discovered blogging!) and I sat down with someone and he prescribed me two drugs. One for my Bipolar Disorder.
After a few weeks of taking them both I realized I didn't feel like myself. I didn't like what they had done for me. Not knowing, that it was the one for ADHD that was making me feel strange.
So I stopped taking them both. And I stopped going to the shrink for treatment. I just up and quit it all.
My mom asked me about it, but when I told her I didn't want too she didn't really push it. Which was nice.
But now my crazy is back, and in full force. It's causing me to not sleep for days, but still be perfectly fine. And then after that happens, I go mental.
The case this time was John's sister was upset about me mentioning she got her ass kicked. And I read his blog, asked him if he was mad at me. He told me no, so we dropped it.
Less than 10 minutes later I exploded at him for absolutely no reason, no justification and continued babbling about it for three days. (Well two were the silent treatment.)
He didn't do anything wrong. Hell, his sister didn't do anything wrong.
I on the other hand, did. My crazy came out a swingin' and I didn't catch it in time to stop it. Although Kudos to me because this time I didn't do two things.
1.) I didn't drink until I was so drunk I was puking. Because that would had made this whole thing a lot worse for all involved.
2.) I didn't say things such as "I'm better off dead." and "Like you would miss me if I died."
See, I'm a complete wack-job.
I'm hoping for the fall I can get enrolled in some courses at the college out here. I'd like to be full time again. Mainly for the health insurance. And if I can get something for my brain, maybe instead of half assing it I can actually focus and do my work like a normal person.
Because I'll be honest: College is not supposed to be this difficult. Perhaps with the right balance of medication I can finally live up to that potential my teachers were raving about all my life.
And I'm going to talk to my mom, maybe it's worth the couple hundred maybe thousand I'd spend to go sit down and get prescribed something. I don't know. I want to look into it, because this cant possibly be safe for my brain. And I feel so bad for John who tolerates my insanity on a monthly baisis. See, the best part about my insanity is the fact that I hide it so well from others.
It only comes out to people who can't judge me for it, or wont judge me for it.
Over the last three days I was at work pretending everything was perfectly normal. People knew John and I were fighting, but they have no idea why and to what extent.
I always hid it so very well, and maybe thats why no one thought to get me help.
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