Bad Hippie, No Patchouli!

Those of you who pop in from time to time know I like to babble about soccer, post anecdotes about the Beavis, and wow you with cute photos of the furry felines who live in the Hippie Household. On other occasions, I like to go off on tangents about strawberry picking and/or discuss my battles with depression, food allergies, and the medication I take for said maladies. Yeah. Sometimes I like to talk about the crazy. But lately the crazy has been taking over my life, and not letting me enjoy much else -- cats and soccer included. And the crazy has been driving other people crazy. So I decided to visit a new doctor -- an honest to goodness psychiatrist who could calibrate medicine to my particular biochemistry -- and get a definitive diagnosis.

It wasn’t what I expected, that’s for sure. I was prepared for a diagnosis of depression. Bipolar disorder. Batshit crazy. Something along those lines. But when the doctor put down his pencil, peered over the tops of his glasses, and announced "ADHD," I was taken aback. Floored, really. ADHD. Me? That’s impossible!

I mean, I can focus on tasks. I can study. I can read. I can (usually) sit still. How can I have ADHD?

After letting me vent and stew, the doctor pointed out that my talking is a symptom of hyperactivity. Now, I talk fast. I know that. My brain moves fast. I just figured that was how I was wired. I am so used to jumping from subject to subject (in my head) and keeping up with myself, that I’ve never considered how difficult it could be for other people to follow me. (HWSRN can vouch for this. My intensity is a sore point in our relationship.) As for the jiggling foot and wandering brain in meetings -- well, I just figured that most people had trouble sitting still meetings, too. Right?

Everyone has a stereotype of ADHD in their head, I think. You know what I mean -- that kid you knew in fourth grade? The one who wouldn’t sit still and couldn’t do his work and basically drove the teacher nuts? Bad grades, class clown, the whole nine yards? That was never me. Instead, I was quiet, shy, a bookworm, had excellent grades, and was often a teacher’s pet. Except for the talking. I always had my seat moved because I would talk to my neighbor(s). And the day dreaming. If the subject didn’t interest me (math), I would daydream. Still, my grades were awesome. I got myself through college while raising a toddler and working 20 hours a week. How can I have ADHD?

It turns out my ADHD manifests itself through hyper-focus. If I like something, I focus on it. And I practice it until I can do it well. If I don’t like it, it’s off my radar and "not my thing." I make excuses, and say: "That’s not me. I don’t do ‘math.’"

Weird, huh? The doctor also thinks that I’ve been trying, albeit unsuccessfully, to "fix" myself. Or, at least my brain has. All those soccer highs and the rush of adrenaline I get from running? It’s exactly what I need. My brain is trying desperately to produce the chemicals that will even it out. And all those anti-depressants I’ve been taking? They make me worse. Giving an ADHD person serotonin is a bad thing. It makes us crash, I guess.

Not that I totally understand ADHD yet. It’s too new. I’m not even sure I can wrap my mind around it. At first, I was happy to have a diagnosis. The doctor (who is pretty highly recommended) gave me an answer, and that means I can begin treating the problem. That was good news. But now, I sort of feel depressed. I mean -- I knew how to "deal" with depression. I accepted that it was a part of me. I didn’t necessarily like it, but I had learned to live with it. But ADHD? That’s a disorder. A disability, even. I don’t want to be disabled! I’ve always thought that I could rely on my intelligence and my ability to solve problems creatively to get through life. To find out that my brain isn’t exactly functioning the way I thought it was? Well, it’s a cosmic shift, to say the least.

It’s not the end of the world, I know. But still -- I’m not sure what to think. I’m used to thinking about myself in a particular way, and this diagnosis tosses all my of ideas about myself out the window. What exactly am I? Who am I? Has my particular brand of crazy been running my life and hiding the authentic me, or has the authentic me been coping with ADHD? It’s a mystery.

It’s funny, really. The few people I’ve told think the doctor is nuts. "You don’t have ADHD!" HWSRN met the diagnosis with initial skepticism (based largely, in part, on the huge number of misdiagnosis I’ve had over the years), as did my mother. My dad just about dropped the phone laughing. And The Beavis snorted, saying: "What? You’re not like those kids in my class. Well, you do talk a lot."

In two months, I’m going to be 35. For at least 20 of those years, I’ve been reading about and trying to cope with depression. It’s a bit earth-shattering to realize that what I really should have been addressing this whole time is something completely different. Something that could cause depression, I guess, but something much more than depression. I’m not sure how to think about it.

I can only hope that wrapping my head around this latest development doesn’t take another 35 years. That’s a lot of time to waste being misdiagnosed and misunderstood. Plus, it would be nice to finally learn how to get the crazy under control. Seems like it’s about damn time, you know?

So. I have a friend named Kari, and she runs. A lot. In fact, Kari just finished the Paris Marathon with another mutual friend, Laura. That just blows my mind. These two women completed a marathon. In PARIS. Together. And they raised money for Polio Plus in the process. They are my heroes.

But do you want to know the best part of this story? Here goes: Kari lives in Italy and Laura lives in New York. Still, they trained for this marathon together -- via blog, and convinced an even larger group of our friends to meet up in Paris for an impromptu reunion/post-marathon celebration. Viva la Internet. Go, technology!

So, how do I know Kari and Laura? I met them both 17 years ago, when we were all Rotary Exchange students in Belgium. I was introduced to them through another mutual friend, who now lives in Brooklyn. We survived and flourished together through a rather madcap year of excesses -- trips to Amsterdam, weekend hiking adventures in the Haute Fagnes, schooldays in a foreign country, the inevitable and much lamented exchange student weight gain, and a world-wind, two-week bus tour across Europe to round out our year. There exists a ton of photographic evidence of our year abroad -- and unfortunately, it is now posted on Facebook. (Oh, 1990’s hair. How I hate you.) Still, I hadn’t talked to these two women for 17 years -- not until I signed up for Facebook last summer to keep in touch with local soccer updates. (Important stuff, I know.) I "friended" my friend in Brooklyn (who had already friended Kari) and we reconnected via the magic of the World-Wide Web. Now, not a day goes by that I don’t e-mail Kari or talk to her via Facebook. And although we weren’t the closest of friends in Belgium (we knew each other and moved in the same crowd, though), we’ve gotten to know each other and become pretty close -- thanks in large part to technology.

Well, technology and running. See, Kari is passionate about running. And that passion is damn near infectious. She is also a former soccer nut, having coached and played for many years. So, knowing that I play midfield, she’s been urging me to run as a form of cross-training. No, I said. It’ll tear up my joints. No, it’ll hurt my knees. No, I don’t like running. Running is BORING. No way. Nuh-uh. (Stomp foot here for emphasis.)

But not running is only an option when you have elliptical machines available at your local gym for "alternative" cardio workouts. Unfortunately, when those machines are getting more and more use and you don’t have time to wait around for ‘em, it’s time to take the plunge. Time to climb on that treadmill and pray you don’t go flying off the back end of it like someone on "America’s Funniest Videos." Time to plug the iPod in and crank up the rap music and RUN. One foot in front of the other, over and over again. Maybe you’re not very fast, but you’re doing it. One foot in front of the other, until LO AND BEHOLD, you’ve completed 3.5 miles. A 5K. You’re a runner!

At least that’s how I decided to handle this winter’s almost devastating "Lack of an Elliptical Machine" crisis at my gym. Instead of glaring at the sweaty people on the elliptical machines, I decided give the treadmill a try. After a brief prayer to whatever patron saint watches out for novice treadmill-users (and protects them from embarrassing falls), I took a deep breath and started running. And I discovered that I LOVED it. Loved it -- almost (but not quite) as much as soccer. Sure, I’m not fast. Not at all. It would take me three times as long as Kari to run a 5K. But for someone who always thought running was boring unless a soccer ball was involved (and who could barely make it around the track last summer), this is a major improvement.

Not only do I love running, I’ve decided that I’m going to run a half marathon. Yup. Me. A half marathon. 13.1 miles. With Kari. In Italy. May 2010, baby. The exchange students are hooking up again for another madcap, excessive adventure -- after we run our race, that is.

I don’t know about you, but I think it’s inspiring to have another person egging you on to new heights of foolishness when you’re stuck in a rut. Soccer in the rain and mud? No problem -- that’s fun (or so I've come to believe). Training to run a half marathon -- voluntarily? Why the hell not? Fun! Talk about motivation. All it took was the unprecedented boom of social networking across the globe, a lack of elliptical machines in my local gym, and a big push from someone who I think kicks serious ass. A perfect storm, if you will, of gigantic (and wonderful) proportions.

And it rocks. Every sweaty, achy mile of it rocks. Now, pass the Tylenol while I give a shout out to Kari and Laura for their continuing motivation, and lace up my shoes for today’s run. Thanks, Kari! Thanks, Laura! You guys rock!

1) Ran seven miles, over the course of three days.

2) Made a curtain for my breezeway door -- with fabric tape. Hey, it still required firing up the iron and measuring and creasing the fabric.

3) Took Ziggy to the vet to get groomed.

4) "Sprung cleaned" the family room -- washed the curtains, slipcover, and pillowcases to "freshen" up the room. (And remove that fine winter patina of cat hair.)

5) Raked nine bags of leaves/yard waste out of the front yard. (Freakin' neighbors. I think they are DUMPING their leaves in our yard!)

6) Started -- and finished -- my orange soccer hat for the spring (outdoor) session.

7) Spent one morning washing all manner of bedding after The Beavis got sick. Moms -- you know what I mean. Ew. Ick. Bleck.

8) Started knitting on The Zephyr Girls' Juliet.

9) Vacuumed stray dust bunnies/cat hair out of the basement.

10) Purchased a seed started kit for tomatoes and Swiss chard. Let's hope those damn seeds start to sprout soon!

11) Edited The Beavis' five-page paper for English class, due AFTER break. Barbaric.

12) Removed the weird plastic stuff from our windows, got rid of the storm windows, and replaced all screens. Yay...spring has sprung!

13) Scheduled a yard waste pick up and large garbage pick up for all the crap in the garage.

Woo-hoo! What a vacation. Now I have to go back to work to escape all this housework.

What did YOU do on your spring break?

ADDENDUM: I guess I should add that I finally, freakin' updated my blog, too!

I used to think I hadn't done a lot with my life, or that I had any fancy aspirations...then I decided to complete this meme. And wouldn't you know it? I've actually done some stuff on the list. Enjoy!

Rules of the meme: Things you've already done: bold face type

Things you want to do: italicize

Things you haven't done and don't want to do: leave in plain font

1) started your own blog

2) slept under the stars

3) played in a band

4) visit Hawaii

5) watched a meteor shower

6) given more than you can afford to charity

7) go to Disney land/World

8) climbed a mountain

9) held a praying mantis

10) sang a solo

11) bungee jumped

12) visit Paris

13) watched a lightning storm at sea (from land, over a lake)

14) taught yourself an art from scratch (knitting)

15) adopted a child

16) had food poisoning

17) walked to the top of the Statue of Liberty

18) grown your own vegetables

19) seen the Mona Lisa in France

20) slept on an overnight train

21) had a pillow fight

22) hitch hiked

23) taken a sick day when you're not ill

24) built a snow fort

25) held a lamb

26) gone skinny dipping - in the ocean, no less (in Italy)

27) run a marathon

28) ridden a gondola in Venice

29) seen a total eclipse

30) watched a sunrise or sunset

31) hit a home run

32) been on a cruise

33) see Niagara Falls in person

34) visited the birthplace of your ancestors

35) seen an Amish community

36) taught yourself a new language (French)

37) had enough money to be truly satisfied

38) seen the Leaning Tower of Pisa in person

39) gone rock climbing

40) seen Michelangelo's David in person

41) sung karaoke

42) seen Old Faithful geyser erupt

43) bought a stranger a meal in a restaurant

44) visit Africa

45) walked on a beach in the moonlight

46) been transported in an ambulance (with The Beavis...who was having a sever allergic reaction)

47) had your portrait painted

48) gone deep sea fishing

49) seen the Sistene Chapel in person

50) been to the top of the Eiffel Tower in Paris (halfway up...I couldn't get to the top. I'm afraid of heights)

51) gone scuba diving or snorkeling

52) kissed in the rain

53) played in the mud (every Sunday, during outdoor soccer season)

54) gone to a drive-in theater

55) been in a movie

56) visit the Great Wall of China

57) started a business

58) taken a marshal arts class

59) visit Russia

60) served at a soup kitchen

61) sold girl scout cookies

62) gone whale watching

63) gotten flowers for no reason

64) given blood

65) gone sky diving

66) visited a Nazi concentration camp

67) bounced a check

68) flown in a helicopter

69) saved a favorite childhood toy (stuffed Sock Monkey)

70) visited the Lincoln Memorial

71) eaten caviar

72) pieced a quilt

73) stood in Times Square

74) toured the everglades

75) been fired from a job (well, laid off)

76) seen the changing of the guard in London

77) broken a bone

78) been on a speeding motorcycle

79) seen the Grand Canyon in person

80) published a book

81) visited the Vatican

82) bought a brand new car

83) walked in Jerusalem

84) had your picture in the newspaper

85) read the entire Bible (in college, for class)

86) visited the White House

87) killed and prepared an animal for eating

88) had chickenpox

89) saved someone's life

90) sat on a jury

91) met someone famous (Tracy Chevalier, Josh Ritter, AJ Roach, Jimmy Dale Gilmore)

92) joined a book club

93) lost a loved one

94) had a baby (one)

95) seen the Alamo in person

96) swim in the Great Salt Lake

97) been involved in a law suit (custody, traffic, small claims)

98) owned a cell phone

99) been stung by a bee

Tag, Kari! You're it.

November 1992: I vote for the first time. Somewhere, in a dorm room far, far away, I fill in the little bubbles of my absentee ballot much like millions of students in dorm rooms across the country. Sadly, I choose to vote like my parents, and help bring George Bush Sr. into office. Dork.

(NOTE TO SELF: DUH. CLINTON WON THE ELECTION. SMART PEOPLE NEGATED YOUR VOTE. There really is no excuse for my mis-remembering of history, except the fact that I was pregnant and rather insane at the time. Or hungry and forgetful. Or preoccupied. Or...something.)

November 1996: Bad Hippie has drunk of the Bill Clinton kool-aid, and helps shepherd in an ongoing era of Democratic coolness. Boxers, not briefs, y'all!

November 2000: Why can't Bill run a third time? Screw the constitution! Oh, well -- I'm down with Gore. At least he understands the concept of global warming.

November 2004: Fuck me. I'm soooo moving to Canada once Beavis graduates from High School.

November 2008: Okay, so I was originally all for Hillary. Her business suits rock, and I think she could kick some serious ass. I even cried when she conceded the nomination to Obama. But, somwhere around mid-Summer, Obama starts looking pretty good. Hell, he can give a good speech. He seems pretty damn intelligent. He can talk without a teleprompter. Hmmm...maybe having an intellectual in the White House would be a good thing for a change. I mean, how the hell could it be a BAD thing?

And yes, for the record -- I cried when I heard Obama's victory speech...the first, second, and third time. I am ecstatic about the results. And having him win by a landslide was even better. I couldn't be more happier than if Gore had taken the nomination eight years ago and the whole unraveling of America had never happened.

Thank you to everyone who took the time to canvass for Obama and make this day a reality. Special thanks to The Beavis' best friend, who has been raising money and knocking on doors for Obama for more than a year now. He even took Beavis with him on one of his canvassing routes. I am incredibly impressed and amazed that two teenagers got involved with the election proceedings -- hell, I couldn't tell you anything about politics when I was 14. Kudos to them for caring...and acting. I think the future is going to be okay.

But no, kids -- I won't drive around town and help you tear down the few remaining McCain/Palin signs. That would not be a good, adult thing to do.