My dad tells this story from when I was 15 or 16, about trying to get me to do my homework. Getting me to sit down was never the problem, he says.  The problem was, I could take 3 hours to do 20 minutes of work.  A mirror lined the wall of our dining room where I sat at the table, doing my homework.  

He testifies, and I remember, my inclination toward distraction was relentless.  I would start my work, get a drink, and stare into the mirror making contorted faces for hours.  If I wasn’t in front of the mirror, I would pick my nose or my clothes or my toes as the unproductive minutes ticked by. Years later, they confessed that they really struggled about whether or not they should try and find some medication to help me.  But that was almost 20 years ago, and there was so much mystery about those drugs back then, not to mention the stigma.  

Recently, I thanked my dad for resisting the temptation to medicate me.  High school is hard enough without having to wrestle with whether or not you are actually screwed up in the head. Having said that, I started taking Vyvance yesterday.  
 
These days, when my attention issues get really bad, Amy and I call it “squirrel mode.”  I’ll look back on the last hour and a half and realize that I have split that time between writing a song on the guitar, preparing songs for worship for Sunday, emailing venues about upcoming shows, working on three different songs on the piano, making coffee, working up a countermelody to a cover song I’m working on, writing a blog, making lunch plans by phone, looking for a light bulb, emailing a venue about an upcoming show, and looking for my wallet.  Maybe I find my wallet.  

Over ten years ago, a doctor prescribed me a Ritalin-type med, and within the first week, I lost my temper in a way that scared me, so I swore off the stuff.  Crazy is better than angry, I figure. Earlier this spring, I ventured back into the arena, having heard about all kinds of newer, better medications, and I found one that helped OK, but it was WAY too expensive, and the generic (cheaper) form required that you take it 3 times a day, at the same time each day.  HA!  None of my days are EVER the same.  That’s like asking Barak Obama to keep his schedule by sundial. After a few months of mood swings and jitters, I opted out again.  

And now I’m back in the saddle. As I popped my second pill this morning, I remembered that I’m supposed to be chronicling my symptoms and reactions, and I’ve decided to do that here.  Why not? We’re playing with the chemicals in my brain, and my brain is the critical organ for creativity, and my creativity sustains this website and gives it purpose.  

I’ll try to keep it current, so you can read along with how things are working, and the sly irony is that I’ve always had trouble keeping my blog current.  Maybe that’s about to change… stay tuned.