A Splintered Mind

Sometimes the best kind of journal is the one that you shred, light on fire, then cast its ashes to the wind. Last January, I woke up severely depressed one morning. At first, I didn’t realize what was happening. I just knew that I had no will to move, no will to eat, no will to do anything. I felt interred with heavy, suffocating sadness. Mmm, that sounds rather dramatic, doesn’t it? The moment I realized I was depressed, I grabbed my iPhone and began dictating a blog entry to Siri as a coping strategy. However, it was all in the same vein as that emo sentence above—nice and juicy with just the right amount of adverbial angst and self-indulgence. We should all be grateful that I deleted every single word of it. Normally, I avoid blogging or posting on social media while under the influence of Major Depressive Disorder . Despite my efforts to sound upbeat, depression affects my narrative voice and mental outlook. Fortunately, hindsight gained from experience keeps me from em...

Sometimes we can be so fixated upon the finish line that we miss how far we’ve already come. © Alan Watson Featherstone   Ah, if I hear another commercial on the radio with a smooth-talking announcer earnestly pretending their company cares about me during these “unprecedented times”, I may puke. I’ve moved way beyond that acid reflux-ish moment where my stomach’s contents race to my mouth to voice their opinion. I may not be able to hold them back next time. Between you and me, I’m a little worried about it. I’m still making payments on my car. So I’m not going to talk to you as if you just woke up next to Rip Van Winkle and need me to explain what COVID–19 is. I’m just going to write from my heart about how this pandemic has affected me, and maybe you’ll be able to relate: I feel like my life has been sealed in a cocoon. This is a funny thing to write because I’ve never before been so product...

As I wind up my latest book project, I thought it might be a good time to share an interview of sorts I did a few months ago. I was asked to answer the question “Is suicide preventable?” in three sentences. Can such a question be answered in three sentences‽ Actually, it can be answered with one word: Yes. I elaborated on that word with three sentences that I hope are helpful to somebody. Fortunately, the rest of the article was a bit longer, so there is plenty for you to read. Kate Haldeman tackled some of the typical stigmas of which depressives encounter. People mean well, but sometimes their advice does more harm than good. Ms. Haldeman addressed every negative word of “encouragement” you could imagine, from telling people to “get over it” to telling depressives to work harder at being happy. I liked her alternative questions. I hope that people who need to learn these tips find her article. There is no perfect way to respond to everybody...

All was not terrible in 2020.  The press will try to convince you otherwise, but their job is to panic you into thinking the world is ending any minute…again…so that you click on their news links to help them make money. I'm sure your personal life is filled with happy events that spit in the eye of Cynicism 2020. In fact, I'm positive I can rattle off dozens of such events in my own personal life. For example, my ex and I successfully gained guardianship over our learning disabled daughter. Pretty good, huh? I filed pro se, and the hearing went without a hitch. Take that, ADHD ! I sold another article to ADDitude Magazine. Huzzah! I successfully learned to do the 180º cross-step on my longboard while carving. Well, that was important to me even if it seems obscure. I've only been practicing for three years. Oh! There was that time I crossed the street without getting hit by a car. That was a big event in 2020. And those monoliths from space aliens planted in my Utahn backy...

Sometimes I wonder if there’s a support group out there for adults with ADHD who have an open tabs addiction. ¹ Hello, my name is Douglas Cootey, and I’m a hard core tabs junkie. Maybe this seems like a first world problem. Maybe you’re asking yourself, “What’s the big deal with several hundred open tabs?” If that’s how you think, you might need to join me at that meeting. In theory there’s nothing wrong with lots of open browser tabs. I did things that way for years. If I found a web page with a great project or article I wanted to refer to later, I’d keep the tab open and leave it with the other saved ToDo tabs. The problem I ran into, however, was although ToDo tabs helped me not forget important data, I had so many tabs open in my browser I couldn’t find what I needed. Just as ToDo lists can get long and unmanageable, ToDo tabs multiply until they become noise—no longer useful as resources or reminders. Yes, you’ve got web pages open for that funny self-surgery with tweez...

I might get myself in a bit of trouble with my daughters with this post, but I recently sat in on the Brownie’s session with her therapist (she’s learning disabled). We were discussing ways to regulate moods. She used to have anger issues, and although those days are behind us, she still doesn’t know what to do with strong, negative feelings like disappointment, irritation, and frustration. I can’t recall exactly how the topic came up, but I used my “Heartbroken” playlist as an example to make a point. This playlist used to be a point of contention for my older daughters. After the divorce, I filled this playlist with all the most painfully sad love songs I had in my vast music collection. I labeled it “Heartbroken”. Not surprisingly, most of them were country. On bad days, I would hit play and dive deep into the music before I could come up for air again. It was cathartic. But my girls hated it. Because of our current living arran...

I picked up TIME Mental Health: A New Understanding a year ago in the grocery store and slowly worked my way through it. I assumed I would race through the magazine and produce a shining review for my readers to enjoy. Then ADHD happened, which is like saying, “And then I breathed”. When I say “slowly”, I refer to the speed at which glaciers raced across the North American continent. Ultimately, I finished, which is the lesson I take away from my tortoise and hare situation. I wasn’t in competition with anybody, except, perhaps, Father Time, but I must admit that I had an assist from COVID–19, which gave me lots of time to break my news addiction. After all, there are only so many ways in which you can be told “WE’RE ALL GONNA DIE!” before you tune out and suddenly decide that sorting that four year old bag of junk mail you’ve been kicking around seems like a better use of your time. Fortunately for me, this magazine was on...