Ignorance is bliss?
So, after an appointment with a doctor not my own (because my doctor is recovering from breaking his back), I had a panicky experience. Substitute doctor would not write my prescription. He has his own ideas about what he should and shouldn't prescribe. I have my own opinions about how I'd like to punch him in the face for sending me into a panic with his holier than thou medical attitude, but I kept my mouth shut and tried not to cry.
Maybe I need to quit taking the stuff, I thought. Am I imagining my need for it? I can do this right? Other people cope without a legal meth habit, right?
So, On Tuesday, I did not take my Ritalin. I was prepared. I came armed with lists and plans and coffee. I would do this thing. I would win.
Who needs Ritalin?
Me. I need Ritalin.
Lists mean just about nothing when my brain reads them as static. I started a 6 minute Spanish lesson and could not focus. I think I paused it to regroup three times. In 6 minutes. I am not exaggerating here, people. I taught my youngest about hyperbole this morning. This is not hyperbole. This is cold hard fact. I looked at my lists, tried to remember my plans, searched for the notebook I knew I had written notes in just a few months ago, sat on my bed staring at the closet, opened and closed my laptop, played Scramble with Friends badly, thought about napping, drank more coffee, wondered if it was too late to just take my pill...
It was. I would have been up all night. So I finished out the completely unproductive day and called it a wash.
I learned though. I learned that I most certainly can live without Ritalin, but write novels and educate my children and keep the house from falling further into shambles and help at church and learn to speak Spanish?
Nope. Ain't gonna happen.
Your friendly neighborhood legal-meth-addict