Thursday, May 18, 2006

skills, not pills

I recently subscribed to the feed for The Splintered Mind - a smart take on what it's like to live life with ADHD. His post today inspired the title for my post, and he shares my opinion on the dangers of using medication instead of skills training.

Given my own neurological, let's call it 'situation', which is in large part due to the 2+ years of chemotherapy that I had 15 years ago (intravenous and intrathecal), but also partly due to my innate neurological makeup which I believe had ADD/ADHD aspects when I was a kid (meaning I was ADHD and got neurologically affected even more ... rock on) I have a tendency to write run on sentences, and I've checked out many a solution to deal with my neurological 'situation'.

skills, not pills refers to the cognitive rehabilitation I've been doing over the past three years (which I recently finished!! Yay!).

The rehab involed completing a series of repetitive exercises designed to create or enhance basic neurological skills: attention, working memory, integration, ability to take perspective, metacognition. The first effects of the rehab that I've noticed has been an increase in my capacity to manage my emotions. Today in particular, I was grateful for the work I've done in the program; I was in the middle of a meltdown ( BTW I've also been suffering from PTSD, but those details can wait for another post) . So the meltdown usually involves tears, tears and more tears stemming from an uncontrollable slew of highly critical, demeaning and irrational thoughts that seem to be directly plugged into my fight or flight response.

Today, after I had removed myself from the situation I was in and wandered around in meltdown mode, I came across a lone chair, slightly askew, facing a large window. After I sat down, still being electrocuted by the thoughts shooting madly through my synapses, a stray thought slipped in amongst the ranting that said (warning, cheesy material coming) 'have compassion'. My solar plexus filled with warmth immediately. The electrical storm turned into sunspot in my chest. The meltdown stopped in its tracks, so I fanned my eyes and went back to class. Liberation was mine, baby.

I should tell you, that of course I know there's more to the change than just the neurocognitive skills. Meditation and support from my 'personal brain trainer' were also big factors. But I know that throughout the course the training I did this year, I slowly came to experience being in 'the moment'. To bodily feel the effects of meaning in real time, rather than hours or days or months after the fact.

There's still a ways to go with my rehab (I may shorten that to 'hab). My ability to comprehend the 'gestalt' of situations isn't quite there yet. Nor is being as cheery as I'd like. Nor standing my ground, to organizing my thoughts and expressing in real time a solid opinion based on studied knowledge, these are accomplishments still waiting in the wings.

After this meltdown stopper today, I'm much more hopeful. And the warmth in my chest it's making itself at home; it's thawing out at last.

Wednesday, May 03, 2006

A list, B list, Your list, My list

I know that socially, I'm not on anyone's A list, B list, C list. I'm on the D list.

The D list is for disabled, dork, don't call them, don't pick up the phone when they call.
I know that friendships will not be initiated with me, or maintained by anyone other than me.

These are what my lists look like:

A list - you accept that I have disabilities but don't pity me for them. You find a place in your life for me where my dignity and self-respect isn't threatened and maligned. You pick up the phone to call me and see how I am once in a while.

B list - you accept my calls, but keep me in a niche and hide the rest of your life from me. You rarely call me. You occasionally try to tell me that you're not ignoring me.

C list - I've known you for a long time, and keep you in my life in case I'm desperate and alone.

D list - You're related to me and are incredibly childish. I keep you in my life so I can have contact with my history.