I wake up. The radio station in my head is already blaring. Too many glockies. Too many fucking glockieeees! This song has been in my head for the last 36 hours.
Oh shit, I’m hungover. I’m anxious. The podcasters who run my internal monologue are arguing again. You’ve got a drinking problem, podcaster #1 tells me. No babe – you’re just having fun, and you’re overthinking this as usual, podcaster #2 reminds me. Go get yourself a Ribena and you’ll be sweet. Something about blood sugar, right?
I get to work. I’m anxious. I’ve been pretty unproductive so far this week, and I’m going to need to force myself to focus today. Too many glockies! Hey, I wonder who that song’s by? Now I’m on YouTube. The podcasters in my mind are agreeing that this new wave of mumble rap can only run because Young Thug walked. Hey man, Young Thug really is the David Bowie of our generation, posits podcaster #1. I mean, the JEFFERY album art? Sensational. Maybe I should print that out so I can put it on my wall when I get home. What was I working on again?
This is gonna be a long day.
Then, for the first time in my life, I took a Concerta. I’ve never been diagnosed with ADHD, as the path to that is long and expensive, but I believe I know myself well enough to recognise the symptoms. Personally, I’ve always had a weird internal relationship with being medicated – I’ve never been sure it’s the right thing for me, so I’ve never experienced ADHD medication outside of a recreational sense, and not this specific brand. But fuck it – I’m already hungover on a Wednesday. Wash it down with a sip of coffee.
It’s been 15 minutes. There’s music playing out loud in the office. And there’s no music playing in my head. Wait – there’s no music playing in my head! This is kinda nice. I realise that I’m actually present, in the room, experiencing what’s happening around me as a physical being, and not just as a pair of podcasters narrating and internalising my every thought and experience. The sense of impending doom I woke up with has subsided.
It’s been 30 minutes. I’m sweaty. I look out the window. Everything seems a little more vibrant. Too vibrant? It’s kinda making me dizzy, maybe I’m thirsty. Everything seems so real. Too real? I’m pretty comfortable with the comfort and chaos of my own mind, and at this point I can’t decide if feeling this locked into reality is better or worse. Fuck, I’m really thirsty.
It’s been 45 minutes. I notice that I haven’t compulsively hit my vape in a while. Sitting still is possible right now. I’m not hyper, like the drug's reputation would suggest, instead I almost feel sedated. I think one of the pieces I’m meant to be working on said that people with ADHD will feel a low on the drugs, and people without ADHD feel the high. Speaking of which, I should probably get back to work soon. Actually, fuck it, I’ll do it right now. I'm not avoiding or feeling overwhelmed by the task at hand, in fact, I’m quite enjoying being productive. Winning! But fuck, I’m thirsty.
It's been 6 hours. I’ve hardly eaten all day. The Concerta has definitely suppressed my appetite, and I know I should eat, but I don’t want to. This is an uncomfortable feeling – one that I’ve worked hard to overcome since a struggle with heavy weed smoking. I get home. My heart is racing. My body is in fight or flight mode, but my mind doesn’t care. The podcasters in my brain that would usually talk me through this have gone off-air. I don’t know how to navigate this divide, so I try to sleep. Can’t sleep. Oh shit, I’m gonna spew.
Overall, the Concerta gave me this hugely uncomfortable feeling that I had to choose between either being productive, or feeling like myself. I’m lucky enough to have been raised as though my neurodivergence was a valid part of how I function and learn, rather than as an affliction that I needed to overcome to succeed. If I had to do headstands on the couch to learn my flashcards, then we were doing headstands on the couch. Even now, if I need to nap every day after lunch to recharge and reset, then I’m napping after lunch. But not everyone has been afforded or taught the kindness and understanding necessary to navigate living with these feelings, and I can see this as being a large part of the reason that people decide to – or maybe end up feeling like they have to – medicate.
I feel grateful that my mind allows me to look beyond the dysfunction and confusion it often experiences with ADHD symptoms, and is something I can accept and deal with in my day to day life. I consider my neurodivergent ability an asset, and I excel happily within and despite it. But ADHD presents differently in everyone, and however you decide to validate your own experiences with it – diagnosed or not – the path to diagnosis and medication should be one walked without shame.
My internal podcast is pretty entertaining, and Glockies is a banger, after all.