I’ve been a bad blogger, I know. Kinda funny, too, is that back in December I made a since-reneged vow to myself to blog at least ONE post every day in the new year…show some self-dedication in my minuscule corner of the Internet. So much for reverence of allegiance.
But, even though I’ve been “blogging”, as it were, for a few years now, I never seem to have the time. Why? Beats the hell out of me! I don’t live a whirlwind social life…it’s not that often that I fly into the night after work with the dilettantes of the night. I work, go home, eat dinner, watch TV, browse online and post on Facebook, hang out with Rob. Sleep. You’d think that I would have a teensy amount of urge to blog.
Ironic thing is, I actually do have those urges. But, thanx to my A.D.D., I’m on to the next segment of my time and fail to post anything. All 1 (or 2) of you readers out there who visit my blog on a regular basis – I vow (this time, to more than just, well, ME) to try to post as often as I can. No matter the quantity, no matter the quality, no matter the subject. It’s the least I can do for you.
Oh, and lest one think otherwise – to be sure, my A.D.D. is totally self-diagnosed. But, it’s the only way of explaining my years-long problems. Did you know I haven’t read a novel in years because when I do, I have to re-read the same page 2-3 times? Did you know that I will watch a film, love it, and not be able to explain the plot to someone who asks me to explain it? And, if you do peruse my blog, often you’ll find I’m spiraling out of control when it comes to making a point.
And I don’t think my A.D.D. (self-diagnosed or not) has anything to do with laziness, as some have suggested. I work hard, I play hard, I love hard.
I have a short history with self-diagnosis. Back in the mid-90s, when I worked at the now-defunct Sony Music Studios on West 54th street in Manhattan, I diagnosed myself with Chronic Fatigue Syndrome. There were times I could not, literally, get out of bed. I worked Saturday and Sunday double shifts, with nary any sleep between those 4pm>8am shifts. And come Monday morning, once I was relieved, I would go home and crash, unable to move most of that day and Tuesday. Wednesday through Friday were spent trying to recover from the sluggish state – only to start over again the following day. It was a vicious cycle that went on for a few years (until my position changed and hours shifted to a more normal 8a>4pm.)
I didn’t have health benefits at Sony, so I didn’t seek medical advice for this. This CFS revelation came by (don’t laugh) watching TV. It might appear to be funny in hindsight, I understand – but I was watching a rerun of THE GOLDEN GIRLS and it was the 2-part episode where Dorothy (Bea Arthur) was in the midst of a months-long ailment no doctor could quite grasp. With many of the symptoms I had, she was finally diagnosed with CFS.
Here is a YouTube segmenting the 2-part GOLDEN GIRLS episode “Sick and Tired” into a 15-minute vid:
Once my position at Sony changed, the symptoms slowly vanished. So, my self-diagnosis was probably merely my mind understanding what my body couldn’t speak of. I see now that it was less likely to be CFS and more likely my body breaking down from working double-sometimes-triple shifts at a multimillion dollar company that couldn’t have cared less about the health of its uninsured workers.
See. Running off tangents. A.D.D. was not the point of this post, I know, but, well, what you see/read is what you get. Heh, it’s now the headline for it.
Some say I should see a therapist to diagnose exactly what’s going on in my head.
But, well, when do I have the time?