A Splintered Mind

Friday – Entry 35: It is done Three simple words that convey so much for me. At first I was writing a book on coping strategies using technology to deal with ADHD. When that proved to be too large a project for me at that time, I began to update my Depression: Ten Ways to Fight It Off article. Then that, too, proved to be too much. As I’ve written before , I had given myself a large carrot to get the book on Depression finished. I promised myself I would let myself get my next haircut at my favorite, pricey salon when I finished the book. I had just received a bad haircut, so I figured I had about six weeks to wrap things up before I looked shaggy. Then I got into a car accident. By the end of May my life was still upside down, filled with trips to physical therapy and the chiropractor. My hair was well beyond shaggy into unkempt. Then my oldest daughter suggested I keep the promise, but write something else. Since I had intended to release two blog books with the book on Depression,...

Sunday – Entry 34: In a little over three years I will be fifty years old. At some point I will have to mentally come to terms with this fact. I'd rather prepare for it now than have an existential meltdown. “What‽ I'm not twenty five anymore?" One of the things I will need to come to grips with is death. Ironically, my efforts since the divorce have been to avoid death as a solution to my problems, but I am of the age now where life may decide death is what is best for me.  I can expect myself to complain all the way to the bitter last moment.  What woke me with a start today was how much garbage I have accumulated over the years and how badly my children will be burdened by it. I suddenly thought of all those home movies fading away into magnetic oblivion in my garage, and it panicked me. Memories and effort wasted by procrastination. I'm not even on top of current photos & family movies, never mind what awaits me in boxes.   Speed is my problem. I'm simply n...

Something happened to me on August 6th. You may have missed it because the news cycle moves fast, and the CIA did indeed confirm the existence of Area 51. I mean, I can forgive you for not noticing the far more important news that happened to me while you and your UFOlogist buds raged against the taunting press release from our government that confirmed a poorly kept secret while still denying us the truth about President Obama’s extraterrestrial origins. I’m exhausted just writing that. Who has the energy to remember li’l ole me? Clearly, there are unexplained phenomena out there that demand attention. Kim Kardashian’s bathing suits, Republicans against the Tea Party, Justin Beiber’s popularity…the list goes on and on. Let me make this easier for you. Somehow I ended up on the Top 10 Social HealthMakers on ADHD list. This is a pretty big deal. Somebody’s going to get fired when the powers-that-be find out. The list is put out by Dr. Oz’s organization,  Sharecare . They even wrote...

Photo by Blake Patterson In the last week of June the internet news sites were all buzzing about “Digital Dementia”. Oh noes! Your kids’ brains be shrivelin’. Watch out! It’s the cell phone’s fault! From what I’ve read, “Digital Dementia” was coined by a German author selling a book and made popular in tech savvy South Korea. Yet despite the rise of book reading in youth demographics due in part to the soaring popularity of ebooks, or the rise in communication & empathy skills because of—not despite of—all that abbreviated texting, it is time for another luddite march on technology. Horrors! Your kids don’t remember phone numbers anymore. Burn the iPhones! Unplug their Androids! Wait. Didn’t we grow up alright with speed dial? I seem to recall phone numbers still just fine. But here’s the trick: I don’t have to. My smartphone remembers all those numbers for me. I can use my mind now to learn Japanese, memorize tunes on my ocarina, or learn Markdown syntax. Important detail...

Wensday - Entry 33 ⚡ I have to admit I'm a bit discouraged today. I seem to be spirally downward this year. 92 days of flu…a random car accident that put me in physical therapy for the next three months…now the spiffy replacement minivan is breaking down. That's half a year wasted to infirmity and trauma. I have so much to do, and money that needs to be earned. I'm tired of the sob story. I want the success story. I keep moving forward to it, but days like today put my progress at a crawl. At least I can still crawl, though, right⸮  Enforced optimism is tough when life beats you up, but the alternative is to quit. Quitting ensures defeat. I think I far prefer the story of endless struggle over ignominious failure, so I'll keep fighting.  Sometimes people think I've got it easy because I try to be cheerful and cheeky, but all my accomplishments over Depression, ADHD & Chronic Motor Tic Disorder  come with a lot of fighting. This week I got KO'd, but the final...

I want to tell you a story about my hair. It's been on my mind a lot lately. Why am I so fixated with it? Why do I make such a big deal about it? Who really cares? Could it be that the story about my hair is really a story about ADHD? When I was 18–19 I loved long, tall hair. Hey, it was the 80s. I would dye it with mousse (metallic copper was my favorite) and then hang out at new wave nightclubs. I could easily spend 30 minutes on my hair. I didn't think much of it. If you wanted a certain look you had to put in the work is how I saw it. And boy, did I work at it. With an Aiwa portable tape player at my side, and headphones on my ears, my life was a late night MTV video. Then I discovered I had other things I liked to do. Things like illustration & writing began to capture my attention. Then there was school and freelance work. Short hair cuts with a little flair only took five minutes tops to get ready. Who had time for anything more? That attitude served me well through ...

My plans to participate in Sketchcrawl #40 were delayed due to the Brownie's severe seizure. I was a bit too preoccupied to think about drawing something in the hospital. The Leprechaun was too stressed to pose, and the Brownie lay on her bed, exhausted. So I drew the next day when things were back to normal.  This is the first time I have drawn in my Moleskine in a small ice age. Drawing straight with a pen is challenging, but for some reason I felt confident enough to do it. I need to this again and again. After years of struggling to draw despite my tic disorder, I gave up in 2005. Now I'm trying to draw again—starting from scratch. I did take time to snap a photo of my girl as she lay there recovering. There was just enough light cast from the oxygen monitor to illuminate her sweet face. At that point, we were through the hardest part and were awaiting the doctor's release. She's fine now, as if nothing had happened. My heart, however, still pounds with worry.