I still oscillated between being manic, sleepless and obsessive or catatonic, blinded by brain fog and exhausted, physically and mentally. It didn’t matter how many habits I tried to build, or “hacks” I adopted. I even slept betterĬertain requirements for being an active member of society – and an employee – eluded me: a regular sleep rhythm, for one, as well as consistency and an ability to conserve energy for big events or tasks. I had to take my pills with food, so I began eating regular meals. At first, Ritalin seemed to fix … everything. Even when sick, I feel like I’m being driven by a piston engine, pushing me to move even though my muscles are worn out and my mind is begging for peace. With a brain like mine, you’re always “on”: a torrent of thoughts and sensations come in like spray from a fire hydrant, and you’re left desperately trying to stem the flow. After frantic waitressing shifts and studying benders, I drank to get to sleep. I set myself unrealistic goals and took on too much: training for a half-marathon, two part-time jobs, a rule that I couldn’t eat anything I hadn’t cooked myself. I couldn’t sit still and study unless I was physically exhausted. Without the structure of regular mealtimes and bedtimes, my rhythms became erratic. I drove myself regularly to exhaustion as a teenager, but it was only once I left home to go to university in London that things really began to fall apart. I was socially adept and academically successful – gifted, even.
In the UK in the 90s, it was cast as a disorder of naughty boys who struggled at school. Still, the idea that I might have ADHD never came up.
“You were cute and charming – but very annoying,” my mother recalls. My parents nicknamed me Tigger, after the perpetually bouncy Winnie-the-Pooh character. Even before I could walk, I was constantly wriggling, fidgeting, climbing things. The first night I slept in a bed rather than a cot, I rolled on to the floor nine times. Had I always felt this foggy before the drugs? Or was it the drugs? When I decided to quit, I was mired in lethargy and mental confusion that lingered far longer than the supposed “withdrawal” window. I had constant migraine-like headaches, and was anxious and impatient. But after a year on stimulants, things began to unravel.
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