A Splintered Mind

Is AI Good for ADHD or Just a Distraction?

noreply@blogger.com (D.R. Cootey) — Wed, 7 Jan 2026 07:00:00 -0700

In which Douglas proves he’s not a Boomer

I’ve been rethinking my engagement with AI recently. I’m too eager to be an unpaid beta tester for these guys.

Companies that have invested billions into AI will gaslight us all day about how imperative AI tools should be in our lives. They’ll force us to deal with their AI, replace perfectly useful services with AI, and cram AI down our throats every time we turn around. (Microsoft 365 Copilot, I’m looking at you.)

So what good is AI? Judging by how much trouble it gives me, I’d be tempted to say “not much”. ChatGPT once formatted CSS tables so poorly for me that I spent longer fighting with it than I did just coding them myself. Grok often hallucinates answers, gaslights me until I call it out, then it apologizes and gives me the information that I wanted.

Just tonight I asked Siri how many kids Ronald Reagan had and what were their names (since his oldest son passed away today), and it told me “five”, but withheld the names. ChatGPT told me “four” but provided four of their names. Only Grok gave me all the information and mentioned that one of the children died at birth and wasn’t usually included in the lists of his children. That’s a lot of work to go through for accessing supposedly cutting edge intelligences. It would have been quicker accessing the info on Wikipedia. I’ve had problems with Claude and Gemini, too.

It’s fascinating to me that I am so enamored with technology that I’ll get caught up trying to make something work the new way while slowly putting my blood on boil. Perhaps it’s just plain ole ADHD tunnel vision at work. You know, tunnel vision just like regular folk experience, but on steroids.

For whatever reason, the things that I want AI to do for me give them trouble. Then I’ll become side-tracked by the struggle to get the AI to comply. That’s why I’ve decided to change how I approach all AI. It’s just not ready yet. So instead of struggling to get AI to understand my prompts—triggering my low tolerance for frustration—I’ll think of a project or task that I want AI to help me with, then plan a specific way for AI to make that more efficient.

After all, if I wanted to design a poster in Adobe Photoshop, I’d sketch out my ideas beforehand, then turn to Photoshop when I had a clear vision for the project. I wouldn’t prompt Photoshop to do the work for me, then expect the output to be exactly what I had in mind. Therein lies madness.

My interest in AI is to find a digital assistant that makes my work easier. I believe that this is an exciting time, and despite artificial idiocy, we’ll arrive on the other side of this worldwide beta test with useful tools to improve our lives. Most of my friends don’t have the patience for it, but some of my daughters rely on it deeply. We’re looking at a generational gap in the making. Gen X spent so many years laughing at how inept their Boomer parents were with the technology of the past 20 years, but AI has come to make Boomers of them all.

Meanwhile, I promise myself to stop shaking my fists at the cloud and figure out how to utilize AI to keep myself organized and productive.

~Dˢ

PEM: Thinking Tactically

noreply@blogger.com (D.R. Cootey) — Mon, 6 Oct 2025 05:18:00 -0600

(These AI images make me laugh. Yes, I know the calendar is messed up. Allow me my silly moments.)

I’ve decided to think dramatically about my obstacles in my first attempt to blog about my new condition with a sense of humor. Honestly, there hasn’t been much to laugh at. For example, I got distracted playing Chess on Duolingo the other day and gave myself Post Exertional Malaise (PEM). First, I noticed the headache, then I noticed that I was panting, and then I realized that I was dizzy. It was just chess! But I lost track of time, got caught up in it, and overtaxed my brain. Stamina spent. Crash incoming. An entire day wasted. It’s hard to laugh about things like that. I had big plans to implement. Instead, I watched TV—until that gave me a headache, too.

Every day I have lists, but I rarely make it to the end of them because of the drain cognitive, physical, and even emotional events have on my stamina levels. Chronic fatigue is complicated.

That’s when it occurred to me. If ADHD is heading to the grocery store and ending up in Vegas, depression is a dreary, overcast day with frequent downpours, and Tourettes is a random mugging on my way to the park, then Post Viral Dysautonomia is like climbing up a hill, then getting run over by a truck.

Since I don’t live in a Japanese light novel, that truck isn’t sending me off to an isekai adventure. It’s more likely that truck puts me in bed. When I began my new neuro PT exercises last week, I did too many of them and ended up in bed for three days. This illness requires careful planning and tactical thinking, contrary to my ADHD impulsiveness.

For example, I have problems now with dangerously low oxygen saturation levels thanks to COVID–19. It occurred to me that I hadn’t been playing any woodwind instruments in a long while, so maybe I could add that to my daily routine to increase my lung capacity again. Perhaps that would help.

So I practiced for a timed 15 minutes for two instruments, and found that I could only sometimes make the full 30 minute session without getting dizzy and light-headed. Yesterday, I shortened the session to 10 minutes per instrument. It’s a far cry from playing for hours like I used to enjoy, but there are other things that I need to do daily, and if I can tolerate a 20 minute session, then that’s fantastic. I can build up from there. However, I will cap it at 30 minutes. My goal isn’t to play the shinobue and ocarina professionally. It’s just lung exercise and a bit of fun. Other things like freelance work, packing to move, and writing require vast energy reserves. I need to plan my time better. Using a timer is key, but being mindful of the calendar helps, too. Laughter is another tool that I am only now using again. It’s rusty, but I’m sure I can get it shiny again—assuming I can avoid getting hit by more trucks.

~Dˢ

A Moment of Sunlight

noreply@blogger.com (D.R. Cootey) — Fri, 19 Sep 2025 07:51:00 -0600

Yesterday was conquered by fatigue and Tourettes. I didn’t get much accomplished aside from taking care of my daughter, which left me feeling a tad discouraged since I had just written in my journal before going to sleep about what an awesome day it was going to be. Still, all was not bad. For example, dealing with my daughter is a joy as it gives my life purpose. There was something else that brought a smile to my stressed out face, however.

My daughter is autistic and learning disabled, and we work with a service that provides in-home therapy. They teach her coping and life skills. Today, she had a new therapist. There is an uncomfortable period, as you can imagine, when a stranger enters one’s home, but we’re used to this routine, so we make jokes and idle chitchat as we try to quickly establish a professional rapport. I was fully present for a while, but then I began a Tourettes episode and retired to my room to wait it out in private.

Later, my daughter barged into my room and brought the therapist with her, who hung awkwardly by the door. This, too, is something that I am used to, though it’s not a favorite moment. I do wish my daughter had more social awareness, but life is what it is, and we adapt. After answering their question, I felt I needed to explain the difference in my behavior and gave her a bit of info on my condition. When I explained that the day hadn’t quite gone as planned since I needed to pay the car loan and run an errand, she asked if those errands could be taken care of tomorrow. They could, I explained, but I don’t like to leave the car payment to the last minute because of this very reason: I don’t drive when ticking and the payment was due in two days.

I explained that leaving the car payment to the last day is stressful because I don’t know if I’ll be ticking that day or not. “And if you get stressed out, you’ll tic more,” she finished for me.

I don’t often meet people who understand the impact Tourettes has on my life, but she did. Angel choirs from heaven, a shaft of golden light, a great peace in my heart… All such images came to mind. Not many people understand this aspect of Tourettes—that stress can induce or exacerbate ticking. I thanked her for her understanding, and they left my room.

Compared to the often unkind treatment I receive from others who see my inconsistency as a personal failing, I am grateful for those who are able to see beyond the inconvenience my condition may cause and perhaps see what I struggle with, even in part. I know I extend similar empathy to my children, but do I give others the same kindness? I’d like to believe that I do, but perhaps only to the kind ones. I have a hard time with rude, drive by jerks.

This therapist had been instructed by her mother to have empathy for a girl with Tourettes when she was young. This was a lesson she carried into her adulthood. Good job, Mom! On a day when I was dangerously close to berating myself for things I had no control over, this therapist’s kindness corrected the course my attitude was taking. I can only hope I educated my children in as positive a manner.

The Car Wreck of My Life Has a Name

noreply@blogger.com (D.R. Cootey) — Sat, 23 Aug 2025 12:23:00 -0600

Since the pandemic, I have discovered something harder to deal with than Tourettes. It challenges my efforts to be upbeat and optimistic, and has given me very little to laugh about.

I manage my ADHD & Depression just fine—or should I say I deal with them just fine. They represent road bumps that cause me to slow down, but then I get back up to speed. My Tourettes acts more like an IED that blows up my schedule. It takes a bit more effort and time to recover from, but I always get moving forward again. Post Viral Dysautonomia, as I’ve been recently diagnosed with, has been more like a head-on collision with demolition charges for the past four years, taking out both the car and the roads. It leaves me exhausted, susceptible to illness, and with oxygen saturation that routinely drops below 88%.

Recently, I had a setback in my efforts to overcome dysautonomia. It was just back surgery. I had a cyst removed. Nothing drastic. It was day surgery. I laughed and chatted with the dermatologist and his assistant while they did their work. It was a lark, I tell you.

And yet coming off the anesthesia hit me like a truck. I still needed to finish packing to move, so I implemented pacing techniques to manage my stamina, but I made myself sick and crashed out after a few days anyway. I did manage to maintain my 3200 steps daily baseline, though. Victory? ✌🏻

No, clearly I did too much. This is where ADHD and Dysautonomia come together like a four car pile-up. I become so focused on what I need to do that I forget to take notice of how I’m doing. And I stop. No energy. I might fall asleep right where I am, like a narcoleptic behind the wheel.

With each new day, I square my shoulders and push myself forward. I try to learn from my mistakes, but not dwell on them. What will today look like? Part of the crashout was getting over eight hours of sleep. I’d been functioning on less than six all last week. So I feel much better.

I’d like to…

I don’t know how well I’ll do. Making lists helps, but I don’t hold myself to them too tightly. When I poop out, time is lost as I recuperate. Then the day ends, and I prepare for the next one. Overcoming dysautonomia calls for careful pacing, not exceeding one’s limits, as well as pushing forward without crashing. It’s a very, very hard balance to achieve since cognitive and physical activities pull from the thimbleful I have of stamina. This is my new life, but at least I’m getting guidance finally—a roadmap to skirt around the crashes. Perhaps in time, I’ll even learn to laugh about it (like I did when Grok spit out this “station wagon”).

Setting a New Stage

noreply@blogger.com (D.R. Cootey) — Mon, 18 Aug 2025 06:17:00 -0600

I've come to the decision that I need to blog again. I've filled over a dozen journals in the past two years, but I find myself stagnating despite all the wonderful conversations I've had with myself. When your voice is the only one you hear, you have nothing but an echo chamber even if the echoes sound insightful. I'll still journal, but I feel I'm ready to look outside of myself again as I used to do.

Returning to a weekly schedule might be a bit much at this time, but I'll do my best. It's a good goal to work towards. To start, I've chosen a new blog template. Nothing fancy. Only the best prefab templates for me. I'd rather put my efforts into writing than coding, though I imagine I won't be able to help myself over time.

Now if only I could figure out why comments aren't working. They've been MIA for years.

~Dˢ

Traveler's Notebook Distractions and ADHD eBay Blunders

noreply@blogger.com (D.R. Cootey) — Wed, 2 Oct 2024 23:42:00 -0600

I joined the Midori Traveler’s Notebook (TN) club this past Summer. I missed the big blogging heyday about them around 2012 to 2015 when the Internet seem to explode over this nifty little notebook system, but I was all about digital back then. I loved my iPhone and didn’t feel a need to go analog.

Recently, though, I noticed some artists doing inspiring things in their TNs, and I thought this could be the kick in the pants I needed to fit sketching back into my life. I started small with one notebook insert with a leather cover. Only when I noted that I was actually using it, I invested in more inserts. The only feature it was missing for me was a ToDo list insert, but nobody made one.

And thus I began my journey yesterday into DIY Notebook Hell.

With ADHD as my guide, I boldly discovered blog after blog of incredibly ornate notebook inserts that people made for themselves because the official ones were just “too expensive”. Since you can get official ones for as low as $4.30, I wasn’t sure what they were talking about. Perhaps TNs weren’t sold in a US store back then. If people had to import these inserts from Japan, I can see why they might want to make one themselves. If you ship via Japan Post, you could practically grow your own tree and harvest it for paper before the package arrives. Yet the examples I found online were so detailed, elaborate, and time consuming. These bloggers clearly weren’t trying to save money. Personally, I didn’t need custom stickers, embossed leather, and personalized charms. I just wanted a notebook that had squares next to lines that I could fill in and then check off.

Then I discovered Ray Blake of mylifeallinoneplace.com who provided the journaling community Midori TN templates to download. He’s still providing updated templates for free, even today, but it was his video from nine years ago that showed how he made his own booklets that caught my fancy. His no-nonsense approach was perfect for my needs, and armed with the knowledge that he shared, I loaded up my Amazon shopping cart with fountain pen safe printer paper, cracked leather cardstock, and a Swing-Arm Swivel Stapler perfect for saddle stapling. There I was, ready to plunk $38.96 down just to make a ToDo list insert for my traveler’s notebook.

But I didn’t pull the trigger.

You see, I just recently got myself in over my head with eBay purchases. I had ignored the rule:

Never Bid on an Auction When You Are Sick or Ticking.

Unfortunately, I steamrolled over this rule a few weekends ago when I was both sick and ticking (I have Tourettes). Somehow my brain thought it was a loophole? Alas, it was not. I ended up purchasing quite a few Splatoon collectibles. Oh yes, it was glorious. Finally! My collection was complete.

Except one of the figurines I bought was broken. I failed to notice the photograph that showed that it was broken. It was right there in the auction. The seller photographed his own hand pointing at the broken part. The little character was missing its ponytail. I missed a giant, gaping hole in the head of the figurine. As obvious as a blinking stop sign. I was gobsmacked. And the other figurine was what I thought was the Smash Brothers version of the Splatoon inkling girl. However, it turned out to be one of four I already owned. So now I have five.

Of course, the other figurines are still on their way from Japan. Who knows what I got wrong with them? But it gets better. The money I used to buy these wonderful bonehead bargains had been earmarked to register my car. Go me.

If I were to tell you that adults with ADHD have a lack of impulse control, please consider me the poster child of ADHD in this regard. When I am sick or ticking, that impulsivity is hypercharged. That’s why I have so many rules to keep myself from making a fool of myself. It doesn’t always work, and now I feel like a jerk. I’ll have one heck of a collection when the packages finish traveling from the other side of the planet, right⸮

So with these wounds freshly bleeding, I looked very suspiciously at my shopping cart filled with new equipment to pursue a shiny, new distraction. Did I really need this stuff? I mean, really? I decided to go to the source. I went to the Traveler’s Company USA site and looked through all of the inserts that they offered. Maybe there was something I missed.

And there was.

Down at the bottom of the list was an insert with a dot grid pattern. One of the examples that demonstrated how to use this wonderful little insert was a ToDo list. So I bought a few, and they’ll arrive next week. In the meantime, the DIY items have been removed from my shopping cart. Maybe one day I’ll invest in them for the fun of it. That day is not today, however, especially since I still have to register my car.

⁂

April Snow Brings May Slow, But I Keep On Fighting

noreply@blogger.com (D.R. Cootey) — Thu, 29 Jun 2023 03:45:00 -0600

The biggest challenge in my life right now is Long COVID. The post exertion malaise leaves me depleted with no extra energy for blogging. All that energy is directed towards my Daddy Duty (I have an adult, learning disabled, autistic child at home) and my current work in progress. Yes, I am writing, and it’s filled with attitude and humor, but I’m not writing here. Let’s change that.

I’ll start with recent Facebook posts, elaborate on them, and then start charting my progress—perhaps even with a bit of cheek.

April 4, 2023: Nice weather we’re having! 🌱🌿🥀

(To be honest, snow in April means I have to continue staying indoors. The reprieve from illness that I typically get with warmer, sunnier weather is delayed with every day that Spring doesn’t return from Arizona or wherever the heck she gets off to during Winter.)

April 12, 2023: Just working on getting healthy again. Not succeeding very well.

Current location: Bed
Current mood: Annoyed.

My Post COVID became worse with my 2nd bout of COVID last February. I’m currently increasing my stamina, but the effort takes me down afterwards. I’m desperate to get back to normal before I get this blasted virus again. But! I’ve made it up a local hill 3 times this past week. Progress!

What baffles me is the large amount of people I bump into who dismiss COVID–19 as a mere cold. Maybe it was for them, and bless their superior hearts, they were truly fortunate, but some of us didn’t fare so well.

I consider myself blessed that I avoided hospitalization the first time, but I have to admit that I’m a bit bitter because that virus ravaged my vision, health, and quality of life. When ppl treat me like I’m overreacting, I feel rage. Then the rage saps my stamina, and I have to lie down. I’m a veritable dragon of fury from underneath my covers.

It’s a touch pitiful, to be honest, but I’m determined to reverse this damage. Part of my efforts to recover is achieved by avoiding the people with glib advice, the cynical retorts, and those who assume I didn’t vaccinate (and therefor deserved to get sick) from my life. None of them are helpful.

The worst thing about Post COVID (or Long COVID) life is that I’ve lost my ability to laugh things off. That’s all on me. I’d dearly like to see the mirthful, cheeky side of me come back to full health, too. I want to spread my wings and cackle and caw as I soar above my hardships. This bird with a wounded wing routine is getting boring.

April 17, 2023: Hipstamatic’s Tintype app is fun to play around with, and it simulates the effect well, but I always appear years older than I actually am, and often unrecognizable as myself. And those bug eyes! Makes me laugh.

At least Old Man Selfie brings a smile to my face.

Yesterday, I went out for a walk and caught some much needed sun and exercise. I tackled a local hill, and I’d like to tackle it for the next two days in a row. Sometimes post exertion malaise kicks in, and I spend the next few days in bed, but I’ll live with the downtime if it means I can push my uptime forward.

April 26, 2023: Dealing with a bout of depression today. Going for a walk.

April 28, 2023: The walk on Wednesday was a success. It felt good to get out. It felt good to fight my depression.

The first thing I noticed was all the barren trees. There were birds in the branches, but no leaves. This initially discouraged me. I had hoped that the rebirth of Spring would bring liberation to my doldrums. We’ve had many false starts, so there were dead buds in stages for each week Mother Nature decided to head south to Arizona again.

Yet although many buds died, but there was still hope for Spring. The dogwoods were in open defiance of Spring’s absence. As I turned a corner and walked deeper into the neighborhood, dogwood blossoms greeted me. They don’t have a notable scent, but with flowers erupting everywhere, perhaps Spring will come after all. It’s been eight months of cold, wet weather, and I welcome the change.

Later that day, I decided to ride my longboard. I managed five minutes on the board before my heart threatened to burst through my chest while my legs became jelly. FIVE MINUTES. It’s not the usual 3–4 hours I am used to, but it was a humble start.

Then I recuperated on the couch before going for a two mile hike. The only way to overcome this limited stamina is to exercise my way through it. I was so tired afterwards that it didn’t feel like progress, but it was.

April 29, 2023: Yesterday was wonderfully productive, but I pushed too hard. Now I’m sick in bed. I’ll try again tomorrow.

April 30, 2023: 3.8 miles walked today, plus I did 60 modified ab rolls. I feel like a phone battery at the end of a long day, but I’m also feeling better about myself. Here’s to dead batteries!

I’m experimenting with one day of stamina training and one day of recovery, then repeating. So far, I’m pleased with the results, although overall, I am fairly exhausted from the effort. Post COVID syndrome is not made up. I believe the chronic fatigue is my hardest challenge to meet. Tomorrow will be a recovery day whether I want it to be or not.

Until now, I’ve been trying to string together more and more days of exercise in a row, but it takes me down, i.e. bedridden, for three to four days afterwards. It used to be two days of exercise and FIVE days of recovery, but I’m pleased to report that I’ve improved on that, even if only meagerly.

I’ll just keep at it until I win.

~Dˢ

How to Take Charge of Your ADHD Voicemail Hell

noreply@blogger.com (D.R. Cootey) — Fri, 11 Nov 2022 05:14:00 -0700

Ever find yourself missing important messages because your voicemail box is filled with half a decade of unlistened to calls? There might be a solution for that.

Adult ADHD is almost like the Baskin Robbins of the mental health community. There are so many flavors of ADHD, you can be forgiven for questioning if they’re all from the same diagnosis. Some adults with ADHD daydream. Others are chronically late. Some run their mouths off with their feet in the way. Others never stop talking. Some forget why they went to the store. Others forget who they just called because something distracted them after they dialed. There are plenty of attributes that we all have in common, but I am constantly surprised by how diverse the ADHD community is. One size truly does not fit all.

I find that I have difficulty getting organized, I have chronic procrastination issues, I have trouble following through, and all because I have an intolerance for boredom. Those are fairly basic ADHD attributes, but where I notice them intersecting with uncomfortable intensity is with tasks like email, paper piles, bills, and voice mail.

In short, I have an aversion to drudgery. Most people do. The ADHD mind, however, seems Teflon coated to protect itself from boredom. The second boredom occurs, the ADHD mind is off crossing the English Channel, launching into space, or thinking about anything but what it is supposed to be.

I’ve noticed that Adults with ADHD have a tendency to create these types of backlogs at a higher frequency than others. They can become stumbling blocks that worsen over time because the ADHD mind recoils at boredom. Today I want to touch upon how that creates our own version of voice mail hell.

For all the creative energy I put into my voicemail greeting, I sure don’t put as much energy into listening to the messages people leave for me. Somehow, it slips my mind. People reach out to me, the years pass, glaciers move across the continent, and suddenly I notice I have voicemails all the way back to 1995. Most are just doctor offices letting me know about an upcoming appointment, but some are important messages with information I had inquired about. Other times, I found messages from my lovely daughters that were never listened to. I might be only slightly exaggerating, but overall it can get bad.

There are primarily four methods to manage voicemail:

Shut off voicemail. I don’t recommend this one, but there is no law that says you need voicemail. The best mess is the one that doesn’t exist, right⸮
Keep on top of your messages daily by deleting most of them. Build a habit of triaging your messages. I will chuck the dull reminder messages first, as well as the followup messages from school or the doctor’s office. Don’t be afraid to delete a message halfway through your first listen. Work fast and get the drudgery over with. Family messages I save if they’re personal and heartwarming. That leaves me with the messages that are time sensitive. I return those calls, then delete the voicemail when I’m done.
Prune your messages a little bit every day. Sometimes life will get in the way of your efficiency. At those times, it is easy to fall behind your voicemail. I get sick a lot, so there are many occasions where I begin to feel buried by the backlog. To get back on top, I’ll set the goal to process five voicemail a day using the criteria above. It doesn’t take long, and very quickly I’ll find myself caught up. I also make it a point to prioritize current voicemail first.
Declare Voicemail Bankruptcy. Sadly, I find this is a necessary step every few years. For example, coming out of COVID and six months of respiratory viruses, I found my voicemail backlog almost too much to process. Pruning old voicemail everyday was exhausting me and leaving me with no energy for the important calls. A year later, and I still hadn’t caught up. Frankly, if you’re still holding onto a message from three years ago, it’s likely not relevant anymore. Do what I did. Select them all and flush them down the binary toilet. Now I am able to stay on top of my voicemail and respond to current issues in a timely manner again.

If you are the type of person to create a voicemail backlog, then dutifully slog through it for an eternity, you might need permission to free yourself from your self-imposed shackles. Old voicemail is no longer relevant; time is precious; and unfinished projects have an emotional weight that can bind you in the past. Choose the most prudent solution above for your circumstances and make your voicemail useful again.

~Dˢ

Depression: The Highway to Success Has an Awful Lot of Detours

noreply@blogger.com (D.R. Cootey) — Thu, 3 Nov 2022 19:22:00 -0600

I’ll write a bit vaguely today because I want to touch upon some things that are family matters and how they impact me.

Recently, I have noticed longtime readers of my blog have leapfrogged over me while my life has become stagnant. I caught myself beginning to feel bitter about it, so instead of letting that bitterness settle into depression, I will share some things that I have learned instead.

My life took a detour a few years back, if eleven can be called of few. It was as if I was forced to take an exit and found myself on the service road bumping along besides the highway, falling behind all the other traffic. I could see where I wanted to go, but I just couldn’t get there as fast.

I called that detour “divorce”, and it took me a few years to get back up onto the highway. I finished two books and blogged professionally during that productive time. Managing my depression while optimistically making big goals helped me to move forward.

The next detour is a touchy one. I’ve never spoken about it in public. It involved pummelings and kicks, objects thrown, property damaged, bruises, and frequent calls to the police while I lived as a punching bag for two people. One of them was a sole instance, but it was bad enough that it changed their life permanently with police, counseling, and a new residence. The other person is precious to me and under my care still.

I couldn’t defend myself well in that sole instance because I was having a Tourette’s episode. My forearm crutches were up against the house, and I was laying down on the driveway. I’ve never felt so helpless in my life. The majority of the events, however, involved the precious one. How could I defend myself against a child? I would take punches while I waited for the police to arrive. This precious one also had epilepsy, so there were many, many emergency calls. I called this detour “911 Hell” and it lasted over seven years.

Autistic children are hard to raise, more so when you don’t have a diagnosis. Teachers and social workers were quick to point fault at us as being negligent. The problem was compounded because the precious one would become Dr. Jekyll after I called the police on Mr. Hyde. Fortunately, we persevered and had our child properly diagnosed, which opened up avenues of treatment that have been life-changing for all of us.

The lessons that I learned were to ignore the petty tyrants in the school system, to not take social workers’ advice (they hastily pass judgement, then move on to the next case), and to proactively seek medical expertise. Also, have your doctor print out and sign your child’s diagnosis on paper with an official letterhead, then laminate it to show to any doubting officials. This saves so much time.

My third detour was less of a side road and more of a bridge that was blown out while I was driving across it. Having Major Depression Disorder and Persistent Depression Disorder, Tourettes, and ADHD while dealing with all of this suppressed my immunity system and caused me to become sick all of the time. I call this detour “the lingering death”. It began in 2014. The last year has been the worst, and I have detailed it more than enough in these pages. I’m still trying to get back up onto the service road, never mind the highway.

All of these detours have profoundly changed me. I struggle to find things to laugh about, and I smile even less. Tapping into my inner brat in order to write funny blog articles is particularly challenging. However, I have not given up hope. Although I occasionally lapse in judgment, I try hard not to compare myself to others and mark my success against my own progress.

As for today, the precious one has COVID–19 this week, but I dodged that bullet. However, I got some other respiratory virus at the same time. You might think those are uncanny odds, but this is me we’re talking about. I get sick just looking outside at the changing weather.

As I come out of this recent illness, I’m thinking hard about how I want to move forward. I need more progress in my life. I need more successes. And I need to acknowledge that I am not managing my depression very well this time around. I don’t know if writing all of this changes anything, but it seems to me that I need to get back up onto the highway sooner rather than later before the next detour presents itself. If putting my life into perspective in a short article can accomplish anything, I hope it accomplishes this.

~Dˢ

Ten Ways to Be Happy with Post-COVID Syndrome (Even If You're Miserable)

noreply@blogger.com (D.R. Cootey) — Sat, 15 Oct 2022 19:14:00 -0600

Let’s celebrate my one year anniversary since getting COVID–19! 🎉

I know people who felt that COVID was a pernicious plot by politicians to put down the populace. I know others who believed that nobody would ever get the virus if they were vaccinated, and anybody not getting vaccinated was trying to kill them. Because of this polarization, I have a hard time talking to people about my experience with Long COVID, or Post-COVID Syndrome as I prefer to call it.

Although I have found sympathetic ears out there, they aren’t the norm. The anti-vaccine folks look down on me for masking up and getting vaccinated, or they shun me for admitting that COVID–19 was far worse than a mild cold. If I acknowledge the dangers of COVID–19 in anyway, I’m a compliant sheep to them. On the other side, the pro-vaccine cheer team pretentiously lecture me on the importance of being vaccinated when I tell them I got COVID. I suppose their reasoning is that I couldn’t have got COVID if I had been vaccinated—even though I was fully vaccinated. Since WHO considers 50% to be high efficacy¹, we know that means around 50% of the test subjects got COVID despite the vaccine. At any rate, I’ve dealt with far more compassionate pitbulls out there. It’s as if the pandemic stripped my neighbors and associates of all their long-trained humanity. Life has become Twitter.

Unfortunately, I got the virus a year ago despite living like a cross between a hermit crab and The Boy in the Plastic Bubble. Twenty-two months of avoiding every germ on the planet, and COVID slipped in through the backdoor with the family member of a roommate. It knocked me down hard, and months later I found myself sicker than usual with lots of questions. Why can’t I stay healthy? What happened to my vision? Why is it so hard to think? Why is it excruciatingly painful to give blood now? Why do my wounds take so long to heal? Why do I bruise easily? Why am I so tired all the time? Where did all my stamina go?

Why have I suddenly become so boring‽

Post-COVID Syndrome isn’t just a matter of taking a while to get over COVID. It’s a cornucopia of side effects and symptoms that linger afterwards for months or, in my case, over a year. I have to admit that I’m having a very difficult time adjusting. Last August, I passed out asleep on my bed after blogging. Blogging! I used to bang out a blog in under an hour. Now it takes me four of them. This is due to post exertion malaise, a common side effect of Post-COVID Syndrome, and one that is common to most viral fatigue syndromes.

If all of this sounds discouraging, it is. So I’ve decided to look at the upsides of this delightful virus instead of whinging about it. Since my blog is about overcoming disabilities with attitude and humor, I’m sure this will be easy:

Who needs outdoor exercise when you can get a workout walking to the fridge? Buckets of sweat, a racing heart…it’s almost like running a marathon.
The increase in crippling depression has been a great opportunity to stress test my [coping strategies][fightingdepression]. Just what I needed.
Think of all the TV I get to watch while stuck on the couch. I can’t remember any of it due to the brain fog, but that just means I get to watch it again for the first time!
Speaking of brain fog, I now find myself pining for dealing with just ADHD. At least with ADHD, I got a lot of things done. None of them were on my ToDo list, but I sure was productive comparatively.
Another upside to brain fog is that sometimes I forget that I am depressed. Isn’t that convenient‽ It’s true I also forget to pay my bills, forget which day of the week it is, repeat myself in conversations, and sometimes I forget which day of the week it is, but let’s not focus on the negatives.
I have a keen appreciation of my own mortality now. Before I would cluelessly blunder through life, eternally youthful in mind, but now I am old before my time. I’m positive that sagacity is around the corner.
Thanks to Post-COVID Syndrome, my eyeglasses prescription no longer works. I’ve been limping by in the dark, so to speak, but others with my same condition have had entertaining repeat visits to the optometrist as their vision changes every few months. That’s so awesome. I love optometrists!
I banged my shin at Thanksgiving a month after getting COVID. Here we are a year later, and it still hasn’t completely healed. It’s perfect for Halloween!
I went out to dinner with a friend the other night and came home with a cold. That’s faster than any bout of sickness I ever had before COVID. It’s as if Long COVID has weaponized my immunity system to fail. So exciting!
And the best upside to Post-COVID Syndrome is that when I cancel any one of my dozens of doctor appointments because post exertion malaise or illness has me down for the count, nobody shames me. Thanks, COVID!

As you can see, I can easily come up with reasons to be extremely grateful for this new condition. It’s just non-stop fun over here. So don’t feel sorry for me or worry needlessly. I’m A-OK! I may be sick in bed again, but my brain is feverishly working on even more upsides to Post-COVID Syndrome to share with you next time. Or maybe I just have a fever. With brain fog, I can never remember fully. But that’s no reason to get down, right⸮

~Dˢ

Some 50% facts you should be aware of. https://www.who.int/news-room/feature-stories/detail/vaccine-efficacy-effectiveness-and-protection

ADHD: It's Not Always Your Fault

noreply@blogger.com (D.R. Cootey) — Thu, 6 Oct 2022 18:42:00 -0600

Come explore with me the strange intersection of pants and ADHD.

Last July, I lost three pairs of pants.

As usual, I posted to social media to make light of it, but just between you and me, I stayed up fairly late searching the house like a ninja in search of those pants. Hiding my presence, I moved into almost every room in my home, making no sound as I lifted things, rearranged them, and rifled through them hoping those pants would turn up.

I didn’t search the fridge—because that would have been silly—but I searched everywhere else except my roommates’ rooms. It was possible that somebody absconded with my pants, but it was more likely I put them somewhere stupid, right? Besides, I could just imagine the conversation when I accidentally woke my roommates up as I searched under their pillows and bedsheets.

“Douglas, why are you dressed like a ninja?”
“Go back to sleep. You’re dreaming,” I’d say while making ninja-like hypnosis motions with my hands.
“I’m calling the police.”

It turns out that one of the roommates did indeed make off with my pants. This could have been scandalous, except that they politely returned them in the morning—folded—and apologized for accidentally forcing me to run around half naked for…well, no time at all. I eventually stopped looking for my pants, put on my PJs, went to bed, then woke up and got my pants. As far as scandals go, this one was fairly benign.

Except for the hours I spent blaming myself for something that I didn’t do while searching in every stupid place I could have possibly stashed pants.

Afterwards, I was a tad disappointed in myself that when three pairs of pants magically disappeared out of the dryer, I believed that I must have been responsible. I knew, logically, that somebody had taken them—probably accidentally—but I couldn’t believe it. I misplace things so many times on a regular basis, I just assumed that I had done it again. As Ned Hallowell wrote about in “ADHD and Shame”, ADHD adults …may feel that the real you is fundamentally flawed.

I have a brain and have even been known to put it to use occasionally. That means that I know when I’ve messed up and when I haven’t. This incident caught me off guard. Hadn’t I already changed this part of myself? I thought I liked myself better than this! I still don’t? What’s up with that?

I have seen two major ways that Adults with ADHD handle a lifetime of making stupid mistakes and being blamed for not measuring up. The first group internalizes the blame and even perpetuates it, holding themselves responsible for every perceived failure. The second group won’t allow blame to chain them down, so they sprint forward, but without much self-analysis. Both groups tend to become overachievers.

I used to fall into the first group. It was exhausting to constantly be my own worst critic, so I made large strides in putting that type of toxic thinking behind me. So what happened last July? If I were able to skip back through time in order to give myself some advice, I’d tell yester-me to trust his instincts and go to bed. Since I am not able to do that, I will inform future me to keep this lesson in mind.

Pants, even the most active kind, don’t leap out of the dryer and go for a walk. And since there is only ten feet between the dryer and my bedroom door, there aren’t an awful lot of places to misplace pants. I was so troubled by that incident, and so disappointed in myself that I had assumed fault where there was none, that I began to reassess my state of mind. That incident prompted me to seek more information about “Long COVID”.

In a way, I have those pants to thank for my new awareness. I’ve been blaming myself for an awful lot of issues that were out of my control this year. If I hadn’t blamed myself for something ludicrous last July, then been surprised at my error of thought, I might not have suddenly come to a stop and said to myself, “Hold on. Something is wrong here, and it’s not ADHD.” Brain fog is one of the major symptoms of “Long COVID”, but it’s also like a bad ADHD day every day.

I have to admit that I am glad that ADHD has taught me not to take life so seriously. I had a good laugh about those wandering pants. We and our ADHD aren’t always at fault.

The scars of our youth happened a long time ago. We should leave the wounds in the past and stop carrying them into the future. Whether we needlessly blame ourselves, or careen through life like a locomotive in an effort to avoid blame, we still carry those criticisms around with us.

Maybe there are people in your life who still relentlessly blame you. I won’t go so far as to tell you to cut them out of your life, but learning to push back at least can be part of nurturing your self-esteem. You don’t have to be angry, outraged, or hostile. Just draw a line in the sand and don’t budge. That includes pushing back against yourself. Don’t beat yourself up when you make a mistake. Learn from it instead. Laugh at it. Take away its destructive power. You can stop yourself from assassinating your own self-esteem like a ninja in the night. Not everything is your fault.

Now that I think about it clearly, though, I lost my favorite jackknife that month, too. You don’t suppose my roommates would mind if I blame them for its loss, do you? It couldn’t possibly have been me at fault.

Five Ways To Stop Shiny Object Syndrome

noreply@blogger.com (D.R. Cootey) — Sat, 24 Sep 2022 19:59:00 -0600

Long before “Shiny Object Syndrome” was coined as a term, an insignificant blogger from Utah referred to a similar condition and called it Multi-Irons Syndrome. Are they the same thing?

Shiny Object Syndrome — The Fancy Term for Something You’ve Been Doing All Your Life

There is often a difference between what an expression means when it is coined and how people end up using it. People often don’t see eye to eye on these things. One group will insist on the academic or dictionary usage of a term or word, while the popular usage tromples all over them. Irregardless, we don’t have a lot of control over language. (Yes, yes, I couldn’t resist.) Language evolves. Take a stand on one meaning, and you’ll soon find yourself in the camp of people who hate the use of the singular “they”, shaking your aging fist at the sky, shouting, “But that’s not what the word means!” We lost that particular battle years ago when people got tired of typing “he or she” and “him or her” as gender neutral expressions in business letters.

Shiny Object Syndrome is another one of those terms. People don’t exactly agree on what it means, and they don’t all use the same expression, though it is clear which one is winning that particular battle. The original meaning of “Shiny Object Syndrome” has more to do with project creep than distractions, but that’s not how it is used. Just look at that wonderful cartoon. It was labeled ShinyProjectSyndrom_e1556842006339.jpg on the oldest link I found, like that helps. Syndrome isn’t even spelled correctly.

I have no idea who drew it originally, but they captured the manic zeal of the syndrome perfectly. I have referred to the same issue since 2008 as “Multi-Irons Syndrome”. My term has more in common with the less popular “Shiny Project Syndrome”, but “Shiny Object Syndrome” has the clout and its own Wikipedia entry.

Shiny Object Syndrome as a Way of Life

Recently, I embraced Shiny Object Syndrome as a coping strategy to deal with the crushing depression I was suffering from during the pandemic, and then after coming down with COVID–19. Laying in bed and staring at the ceiling for entertainment gets boring in a hurry. Letting myself get excited about new projects was the only thing at times that lifted my spirits.

I don’t regret the coping strategy, because it was so helpful initially. I’ve written about having too many irons in the fire before, but I ended up with a bit too many projects this time. To manage things, I’m journaling my process as I take this massive new pile of nascent projects and prune them before I fail to achieve my birthday goals. I call it my Bookwork project.

Adults with ADHD are particularly susceptible to Shiny Object Syndrome. Every task worth the effort involves a bit of drudgery before great things can be accomplished. Unfortunately, our Teflon coated brains are averse to the boredom that drudgery welcomes in with open arms. Our minds switch tasks to something more appealing so quickly, we often are not aware of the change. Then we end up with something like my Bookwork project where I wanted to write fifteen books simultaneously. FIFTEEN! As soon as I realized what I had committed myself to, I had a good laugh.

Simple Steps to Prevent Shiny Object Syndrome from Taking Over Your Life

If you’ve got ADHD, it isn’t likely that you’ll be able to kick this habit. An aversion to boredom is built into the diagnosis. However, you can manage it. Here’s how I halt the parade of ideas and finish the floats I began with:

Keep the most important goals in the forefront of your mind. Plaster them on the wall if you have to.
Periodically reassess your project goals to cut out the cruft.
Don’t be afraid to shelf “cool” ideas if they are getting in the way of what you’re supposed to accomplish.
Work on your projects in short steps to avoid deep boredom.
Build in rewards for staying focused.

Whatever you want to call it, people with ADHD collect new projects without even trying. I don’t think this is a bad thing. Our minds are unfettered and freely creative. Good things can come from that chaotic maelstrom of thoughts. The trick is to regulate it so that we aren’t always creating and accumulating ideas, but taking time to bring some of them to life.

Experiment with Your Coping Strategies for Better Results

noreply@blogger.com (D.R. Cootey) — Mon, 19 Sep 2022 02:09:00 -0600

Earlier this year, I admitted to myself that my current coping strategies weren’t fighting off my depression as effectively as they were before. Had they simply stopped working, or had something fundamental changed inside of me? The answer was complicated.

Obviously, my coping strategies weren’t working since I spent more than half of the days each week struggling to keep my spirits up, but for the longest time, I was too sick to do anything about it. I just limped along waiting to get better. The problem with that plan was that I wasn’t getting better. My depression was fueled by chronic illness. Waiting to get better to act was like waiting to see a doctor about a broken leg after it heals.

My coping strategies for depression were based on basic cognitive behavior therapy principles: Identify the trigger. Implement a solution. Experience relief. They were also based on the belief that I could regulate my moods. They worked great for years until I came upon a new vector into depression.

The pandemic, and then experiencing COVID–19 personally, showed me that my coping strategies didn’t compensate for long term discouragement. It’s hard to feel positive and upbeat when you’re sick everyday. It’s hard to go out for a walk when you have a respiratory virus during a snowstorm. It’s hard to change the scenery when you are quarantined.

A curious thing happened to me, however. Although there were more than a few days where it could be said that I wallowed in misery, and although I muttered and complained about my lot in life more than I am comfortable to admit, I didn’t stop being me. My need to solve my mental health issues didn’t park itself in the shed and gather dust, leaves, and cobwebs throughout the Winter. After some time, I realized that I needed to change my approach. I chatted with others more, I began new projects while quarantined, I started exercising daily in very minute amounts, and I stopped feeling guilty about being sick.

I kept trying to move forward with as much vigor as I could summon. As the expression goes, I threw whatever I could at the wall over and over again to see what would stick. I found quite a few projects that stuck. In fact, I ended up with a fairly bad case of Multi-Irons Syndrome, as I like to call it. Although I now have to go through the tedious process of pruning all these conflicting projects (I don’t have time to do them all), I am so very glad that I am recovering to the point that I can start pruning. I’m even grateful.

We all deal with depression in our own way. Some seek therapy, some seek meds, and some seek both. I won’t tell you which method is the best one for you. Only you can determine that. One size does not fit all.. As for me, I began to almost desperately reach out to any project or idea that caught my fancy. Making plans and projects is an act of hope. I am relieved that even at my bleakest, I was still counting on getting through the hardships to bring new ideas to life. Now I’ve been to a Post COVID clinic and have a healthcare ToDo list that exhausts me to just think about, but I am hopeful again, which is a nice change.

But where does that leave you? If you are struggling to manage your depression due to the pandemic or, like me, if you are dealing with Post-COVID (Long COVID), you may find yourself suddenly turned into a glass-half-empty type of person, especially if that glass was formerly filled with health and stamina. Chronic fatigue can sap you of cheer just as much as it does energy.

My advice is to not give up. Turn to your coping strategies and start adapting them to your new circumstances. Get wild. Keep trying. In my case, I forgot which aspect of depression my coping strategies were addressing. When I decided to fight back, even if each and every new coping strategy ended in failure, the act of trying was an act of hope. You need to exercise hope like a weak muscle—carefully at first, but then with greater and greater gusto. You are your own best advocate, so keep advocating with yourself for yourself. Find reasons to keep looking forward despite all the setbacks.

When your coping strategies fail you, it is important to rethink them. Eventually, you will find a remedy that is perfect for your situation. The alternative to is fossilize and mope, perpetuating your pain. Let’s all keep pushing forward instead.

~Dˢ

ADHD: Brain Fog Is No Laughing Matter. Well, Maybe Just a Little

noreply@blogger.com (D.R. Cootey) — Thu, 8 Sep 2022 09:30:00 -0600

Call it brain fog, absentmindedness, or a senior moment, but sometimes when your ADHD brain goes on the fritz, you’ve just got to laugh.

I am here today to tell you that playing Sudoku daily will not improve brain fog. I know. I’ve tried multiple Sudoku books & apps, Sudoku with words, and there’s a Sudoku game out there for the Nintendo Switch that would let me play with fluffy blobs of cats, but I’m not entirely convinced that will work either. Adults with ADHD deal with brain fog on a general basis, so over the years I figured doing mental activities to improve my concentration and presence of mind couldn’t hurt.

Who says that Sudoku improves concentration? The same people who used to swear by crossword puzzles, usually. Certainly, not me. No, I kid. I love playing Sudoku and feel more focused after solving a few puzzles, but after the week I’ve just had, I can tell you that it’s clearly not working as a prevention.

There was that moment where I was distracted cleaning up my Nintendo Friend List. Who were all these people? Clearly, all that meditation I had been doing under mountain waterfalls had failed to sharpen my wits. There was this one entry labeled “Avril”* with a bulbous Kirby as her avatar. Hey! I know an Avril! But is it the same Avril? Moments before bringing an impulse to life via text, I stopped myself, iPhone in hand, and thought hard for the first time in days. You can’t just ask somebody out of the blue if their gaming avatar is Kirby, Douglas. Does she even game? Waitaminute…how long has it been since you reached out to her anyway? Crud! Has it been months‽

In fact, it had been so long since I last texted her that the conversation had been automatically deleted. For all I knew, I had left her on “Read” since last year. Suddenly, I realized again that the dream I had about forgetting that I was dating somebody wasn’t so far from reality.

Last weekend, I was talking with a friend about the latest Spider-man movie that was rereleased into theaters. He couldn’t believe that I hadn’t seen it yet. He stared at me like I had three heads. I had insisted that he watch the first two movies last Fall (that HE hadn’t seen) so that he could catch up in order to see the movie in theaters with me. Then I got sick.

Later I found out that he went and saw it with family instead while I was sick in bed. Why are we still friends? How could my friend not know how sick I’ve been? But never mind that. Why do we say “three heads”? Wouldn’t two heads be weird enough? Were two heads a normal thing ages ago, thus making three heads something outside of the norm? Perhaps there’s something more to the “two-faced” idiom. 🤔

At any rate, he was right that I was adamant about him getting caught up. I wanted the shared cinematic experience. I realize I was bedridden for much of the winter, but it’s strange that I never bought the movie, or streamed it online. It couldn’t be that I forgot about it. One of my daughters loved the movie so much, she rented out a seat and lived in the theater during its first run. It’s all she texted about for weeks.

I think this is more like that ADHD joke, “Oooh! Shiny!”, but on a larger scale. For me it’s a Tourettes episode that lasts for more than a few days or an illness that lasts for a week. I lose track of my current goal if I go too many days without working on it. I’m running forward headlong towards a goal when something happens, then POOF! What goal?

I compensate for this, usually, but having a ton of reminders and to do lists. I’m pretty good about keeping track of most of it. It’s how I’ve written two books, blogged professionally for years, and raised kids. However, every once in a while something slips through the cracks. This time it was responding to a text and seeing a movie I had planned on. The brain fog from Long COVID (or chronic fatigue syndrome—whatever they’re going to call it), only makes my ADHD absentmindedness worse. It can be frustrating. Whenever this forgetfulness interferes with my life, I try to have a good laugh, but not laugh it off. It’s important to acknowledge some of these quirks are funny. It’s better than hating myself as I used to do decades ago. However, a healthy sense of humor is the only thing that seems to be healthy about me lately.

Maybe I just need to play even more Sudoku. I’m sure that’ll fix things.

~Dˢ

* Name changed to save me from embarrassment.

ADHD Fixation: The Dark Side of Hyperfocus

noreply@blogger.com (D.R. Cootey) — Sat, 27 Aug 2022 06:35:00 -0600

A lot is made of ADHD’s super power of hyperfocus. I’ve written about it on several occasions over the years as well. I’ve even created a ToDo List technique to simulate it!

Should we really label hyperfocus as a superpower, though? I have always been painfully aware of the downsides to hyperfocus. I’ll even avoid undertaking certain tasks because I know that I’ll slip into hyperfocus and loose track of time and the events around me. It’s not always a desirable state of mind to be in.

Normally, adults with adhd might as well be hamsters on a wheel, furiously running, but not getting anywhere. Suddenly, hyperfocus grants us clarity of vision and purpose, opening the road in front of us into a straight line towards success. When your days are spent fighting against your own brain to get something done, hyperfocus is a big deal.

So, what’s so bad about hyperfocus?

Hyperfocus without limits is a form of tunnel vision. I like to say that character flaws are talents gone awry. If hyperfocus is a talent, then its flipside is fixation. This ADHD fixation occurs when hyperfocus has no endgame. There is only the project and the drive to complete the project. Everything else is ignored while we relentlessly pursue our goal.

“But Douglas!” I hear you say. “Isn’t focusing on completing the project an endgame?”

It seems that way, doesn’t it? Hyperfocus is wonderful when the project moves smoothly from start to finish without inconveniencing anybody. What happens if hyperfocus makes you difficult to work with, though? What happens when you encounter a hitch? Do you step back and rethink your approach to the project, or do you run forward in hyperfocused hamster mode, furiously running in circles, but with greater energy?

I recall a time when a college friend and I were working on an import Japanese goods startup business. We ran into software issues which affected the catalog layout. Instead of stepping away to research the issue, I continued struggling against the software for hours while my friend grew more and more frustrated. I didn’t listen to a darn thing he said. He pleaded with me to find another solution, but I continued. “I’m almost done. Just one more sec.” I never did resolve the issue, so what did all that intense hyperfocus accomplish? Over the last three decades, I have trained myself to not become so fixated when other people were waiting in the wings. However, I still inconvenience myself if I don’t watch for it.

How do I stop myself from slipping into hyperfocus?

Life is filled with moments where we have to park our hyperfocus in order to function with those around us. While raising children, I had to put the brakes on hyperfocus so that my children wouldn’t have to wait for me to finish a project before, oh, feeding them perhaps? Even last night, I put off writing this article until my adult autistic daughter was put to bed.

When I find myself out in the weeds filled with glorious purpose, I use these tips to drag myself back to the road:

Become aware of which activities you tend to hyperfocus on. The first step is developing an awareness of yourself. Knowing which activities catch your attention will help you avoid them when you have other responsibilities.
Clear away your responsibilities before allowing yourself to sink into hyperfocus. This is a core issue that is made difficult by the very nature of ADHD itself. However, you can train yourself to do this. It takes effort, but it is achievable.
Begin with the ending time in mind. This is where I trip myself up. Have a clear idea of how much time you can allow yourself to work on a project before you begin. Use physical timers and phone reminders to keep yourself on track.
Stop when you should. This is the hardest skill of all when hyperfocus whips us forward in a euphoria of clarity. You don’t have to wait until you’ve made a wreckage of your life before learning this skill.
Reassess your project and be flexible enough to change course if necessary. Hyperfocus will have you endlessly working the wrong approach to completion. Our first ideas aren’t always the wisest, even if they are compelling.

Get it right with practice.

I love hyperfocus; I despise ADHD fixation. Nothing good ever comes of being fixated. I become inflexible, obsessed, and out of touch with the world around me. Years ago, I melted more than a few pans on the stovetop before learning not to work on a project while also cooking. It is true that sometimes “brilliant” ideas are lost when I prevent myself from getting hyperfocused, but I’d rather be reactive and bored than brilliantly hyperfocused while the world burns around me.

~Dˢ

That Time ADHD Helped Me Win a Couple of Auctions

noreply@blogger.com (D.R. Cootey) — Thu, 7 Jul 2022 23:30:00 -0600

The problem with chronic illness is that it's boring. I don't mean for the person stricken in bed and suffering. Who cares about them, right⸮ I am referring to everybody else who finds the subject duller than a twenty-four hour CSPAN marathon. When the chronically sick try to tell others about their struggles, they are likely to receive no small degree of exasperation from people who can't hide their dismay, as if to say "What? This again?"

Of course, not everybody is so callous, and even if they are, they aren't likely to be so open about it. They'll smile at you, nod their head sympathetically, tell you to call them if you ever need anything, then disconnect their phone number. I am almost certain this is what really happens, or at least, I am mostly certain since my observations were possibly affected by my 102°F fever. As I've written over and over before, I contracted COVID-19 in October like an early Halloween treat, received RSV for Thankgiving, then had a string of mystery respiratory viruses all the way into April. Despite blogging about this three and a half dozen times, nobody has sent me bales of cash with a sweet "Get Well" card yet. In fact, I would have simply been happy to have received a postcard from Healthy Town, USA with the words, "Wish you were here," scrawled on the back, but no such luck.

In March, I celebrated six months of respiratory viruses by bringing another one home with me from the virus distribution center. This was a proper bookend to COVID-19, complete with five days of a 101°F fever, and it left me bedridden with nothing to do except…what was that?

"Stop being so negative, dear."
"Don't identify as your illness, my dude."
"Keep your plague to yourself."
"You were sick?"

That last one was from one of my beloved daughters, so yes, I was sick. And I had a lot of time to think about things like ADHD, Depression, the fascinating patterns in my ceiling, and how I was going to eat. I can assure you that modern amenities don't accommodate the sick in bed. You can imagine my frustration when I discovered Door Dash would not, in fact, come to my bedroom door. Never mind that I'd have to mail them my front door key first, which I couldn't do from beneath my bedsheets.

If chronic illness is boring for others on the outside, just imagine how boring it is for us on the inside. Couple that boredom with ADHD, and I can get up to dangerous mischief without leaving my bed. During my tumultuous time of illness, when I survived by eating my pillow, I would pass the days propping my iPhone on one arm while I weakly flopped the other arm in its general direction, randomly stabbing at the screen as my hand passed by it. In this way, I surfed the net and kept myself entertained. I can inform you with great authority that being sick in bed with ADHD and an iPhone is a very, very bad situation. Especially when eBay is involved.

Somehow, in my feverish state—where I enjoyed reading badly written books because I was too sick to notice—I also took time to bid on several out of print Pokémon games. I do have an interest in that game series, I must confess, and that in itself wasn't the problem. Bidding on something in order to keep an eye on the auction instead of simply adding it to my watch list was the source of my trouble. I not only won both, very expensive auctions, but I discovered to my alarm that I already owned one of them.

I had forgotten the age-old adage passed down to me by blessed family members who had learned the hard way: "Never bid on auctions when you're sick!" Or perhaps it was my own adage learned at the School of Hard Slaps. I was too feeble-minded to recall.

I recovered long enough a week later to relist the items on eBay immediately after they arrived and before my bank account began to hemorrhage from my stupidity. Both items sold quickly, and when all fees had been totaled, I was out about five bucks between the two. Disaster averted.

I've been writing about coping strategies for adults with ADHD for seventeen years now. In that time I have shared my most blockheaded moments for your entertainment, though I have not shared them all. Some ADHD mistakes are colossal in their stupidity and should be kept secret, buried in a vault, and forgotten by time. Fortunately for you, my deft auctioneering was not one of those moments. Take note and learn, my friends, which moments are the worst for your ADHD.

Illness and ADHD are a terrible combo for me. There are many things I will not allow myself to do while sick, mostly because being bored out of my mind while suffering from reduced impulse control always gets me into trouble. Perhaps that might explain why I have an old LP of Artie Shaw arriving today even though I don't have access to a record player.

⁂

Coping Strategy: Never bid on auctions when you're sick or tired while experiencing a case of chronic ADHD.

ADHD – I Forgot that I Was Dating Somebody?

noreply@blogger.com (D.R. Cootey) — Fri, 13 May 2022 21:42:00 -0600

Can you be so forgetful that you’d forget that you were dating somebody? For a few groggy moments, I was convinced that I had.

As I dealt with forgotten bills, paperwork unearthed from the Jurassic era, and various and sundry things I had meant to get to sometime around last September, I wondered if maybe, perhaps possibly, I was forgetful.

Oh, everybody forgets things! It’s perfectly normal. For example, my mother routinely forgets my name. After bringing me into this world many long and hoary decades ago, you’d think she’d have gotten the hang of it by now, but there she goes again, calling me by name by starting with the youngest son then moving upwards through the sediment of time until she comes around to me.

People with ADHD are just like that, except with trips to another room, a few phone calls, and a sudden urge to reorganize their closet in between each name. Perfectly normal! That’s why you probably won’t be surprised to hear that I’ve forgotten quite a bit over the past half year.

My Fall was more hectic than usual. I started with a car accident in August, surgery in September, COVID–19 in October, RSV in November, then an attempt to catch every virus in Utah before the merry-go-round came to a stop last month. I’m surprised I didn’t end up with Hanta Virus somehow, as well as Chicken Pox for a third time. My life was such a wreck, I was lucky I remembered my own name!

Some interruptions derail the ADHD train so completely that when we finally get our caboose back up on the tracks, we often head off in a new direction. It’s not unusual for me to suddenly realize two months after getting over a death match with the Black Plague that I accidentally started a new project instead of resuming an old one. But there go I introducing a new metaphor. You’d think I had enough archeological material to work with considering how much my bedroom resembles a dig.

Speaking of my bedroom, aside from creating geological strata in all four corners with paperwork, I have been known to sleep there on occasion. Imagine, if you will, my sleepy head emerging from the covers one shiny morning in a panic. No, I hadn’t been buried under the weight of over half a year of mail. I had dreamed that I had suddenly realized that I had a girlfriend who I hadn’t called since September. I was so alarmed in the dream that my heart began pounding as I struggled to remember her name. How could I have forgotten my darling! Then my lucid brain had a chat with my dreaming brain and came to an agreement that it was time to wake up.

As I laid there in the bed calming my racing heart, I chuckled to myself. Like I could ever forget somebody so important as a girlfriend… Then I had a real moment of panic as I realized that I forget people all the time! I forget their names, I forget to call them back, and I forget that I’m on the phone with them when I suddenly start organizing my closet. Yes, I concluded from the sagacious perch of my pillow. I could possibly forget somebody that important.

But did I? I began to worry that maybe I had broken somebody’s heart. How do you apologize for accidentally ghosting somebody for eight months? Fortunately, my lucid brain realized that I was still sleepy and the whole incident was nonsense. There was no girlfriend. I was absolutely in the clear.

Probably.

I'm still surprised that I am so used to being forgetful that I could honestly believe such a dream-addled fiction, even for a moment. To my credit, I’m not so forgetful that I would space off a relationship, but if I ever do get a girlfriend and forget her name, you’ll know I’ll be buried with the dinosaurs if I’m tempted to dig through the layers of my memory and start rattling off past girlfriends’ names until I finally arrive at the right one.

Blind as an ADHD Bat

noreply@blogger.com (D.R. Cootey) — Thu, 28 Apr 2022 16:54:00 -0600

Ever been so ADHD that you can’t see what you’re looking for, even when it’s right in front of your face?

Given that ADHD has as many flavors as a bag of jelly beans, you might not all relate with ADHD tunnel vision. I, unfortunately, can’t say the same. If I had a jelly bean for every time something I was looking for was found right there in front of me, I could go into business and give Jelly Belly a run for their money.

Today, the missing item was my iPhone. I got up from the table, left the kitchen, then wondered where my iPhone had gone. I went downstairs and searched for it. My daughter called it. I visited every room of the home as I retraced my steps all over the place. I imagine I traced paths just as comically convoluted as any you can find in Family Circus. Finally! Finally. There was one room I hadn’t visited. The kitchen. And there was my iPhone. The ringer had been turned off, but it was right where I had been sitting at the table, hidden in plain sight, clear as the nose on the end of my face, lying on the table next to my empty glass of strawberry lemonade.

Was I blind? In a matter of speaking, yes.

Sometimes ADHD concentration can be narrow-focused. In fact, this tunnel-vision can be so tight that we can miss things sitting out in the open. Haven’t you ever looked for an item, rummaged all around, then found it in the first place you had looked in? “How could I have missed this?” you might think. It was what you were looking for, yet you couldn’t see it. As I’ve mentioned before, ADHD attention dysfunctions aren’t too different than what anybody else might experience except in frequency and flair.

I used to constantly lose my wallet and keys in stupid places. They couldn’t be more obvious if they were waving a sign, yet I’d still look right over them. This lack of attention is caused by information overload and a lack of impulse control. To find objects, our minds will phase out extraneous details as we scan over the environment for the item we are searching for. With ADHD folks, everything can be an extraneous detail when we’re preoccupied!

In general, I’ve found that if I’m mistaken about the color, shape, or presentation of the item I am looking for—as in I have a preconceived notion of the item’s appearance—I’ll even put my hands on it, but pass it right by. Wallets and keys are familiar objects, so we have a better chance of noticing them, but if we are distracted at the right moment, any object can become invisible to us.

Unfortunately, there is no cure for this particular myopia. For me, it’s as much a part of ADHD as distractibility. I know I can look forward to future scenarios where I lose my iPhone while it sits there on the bed or table and mocks me.

“Hey, Siri! Where are you?”¹
“Right in front of you, stupid.”
“Hey! Siri, you’re getting kinda cheeky lately.”
“Stop “losing” me then.”

To avoid imagined fights with Siri and other AI assistants in the future, I have come up with some tips that help me minimize the times I turn a blind ADHD eye to my belongings:

Tidy up before you go: If I had cleaned up after myself before I left the table, I never would have misplaced my iPhone. I generally do this in public, but am lazier about it at home.
Doublecheck, triple check…just check again, already!: Develop the habit of checking for your belongings before walking away from where you’ve been. I don’t want to make you neurotic, but this is a life-saving habit. I can’t recommend it enough.
Bluetooth trackers: These l’il devices will save you so much headache and worry. I use Tile devices. I’ve attached them to my wallet, keys, and go bag. As long as you keep the batteries fresh, you’ll not worry again about where anything is. Now if only they made Tiles small enough to stick on my eyeglasses. I swear those things slip through dimensional pockets and reappear in random places.
A place for everything, and everything in its place: Train yourself to place important items in specific locations. I’ve done this with my wallet and keys. They go in one place, and one place only. I almost never need to use the bluetooth trackers to find them anymore because I don’t lose them. My iPhone on the other hand…
Take a deep breath, calm your mind, and look again: Once I become agitated and frustrated, it helps to take a second to center myself, then look again with fresh eyes. I usually see what I’ve been looking for soon after.

Developing these habits will help you become more mindful of where your possessions are, thus helping you get back up and running in a hurry. However, if you do find somebody handing out jelly beans for finding things in plain sight, please let me know. I’ve got a killer plan for taking over the confectionary world. Now, if only I could remember where I placed it.

~Dˢ

Yes, this phrase actually works. You have no idea how many times I’ve shouted it out this year. 😕 ↩

ADHD: Here Are Five Steps I Use to Rein In My Focus

noreply@blogger.com (D.R. Cootey) — Sat, 23 Apr 2022 14:12:00 -0600

A lack of focus is the one common trait that all adults with ADHD seem to have, but focus isn’t as elusive as you might fear.

The other day, a friend texted me out of the blue. He wanted a list of some of the things that I do to maintain focus. Initially, I panicked. I’ve been chronically ill since getting COVID–19 last October. I haven’t blogged in four months, so my ADHD advice muscles were all out of shape. Fortunately for my friend, I haven’t met a topic yet that I didn’t have an opinion on, so I worked up my courage and sent a list to him.

Finding focus is a complicated issue for adults with ADHD. There are times when we have far too much focus and times when focus is as rare as a moderate during election primaries. Too much. Too little. This would be fine to work with if there was predictable rhythm to the pattern, but usually we find ourselves with too much focus on things we shouldn’t be doing (often called hyperfocus), and too little focus on the things that we should (often called many rude labels that I won’t bother listing). How do we regulate that‽ This is why I believe ADHD should refer to an attention dysfunction disorder, not a deficit.

The key to focus is understanding that ADHD minds have an aversion to boredom. Scolding somebody to not be bored motivates somebody about as well as a gun to the head. There may be some short term benefits, but in the long run, it will create self-esteem issues and other psychological hangups. Instead, accept that boredom is part of the problem and address it with targeted coping strategies.

Here are five steps I use to rein in my focus:

Simplify your tasks: I break projects down into three steps at a time, usually in the form of a checklist, and memorize those steps. I call them my ThreeDos, instead of ToDos. I find I can simulate ADHD hyperfocus by doing this, but without the downside of being totally immersed in my own world and deaf to the one around me.
Drown out distractions: I like playing EDM to pump up my energy levels, but any music that excites you will do. Dance music causes me to tap my feet, which has the same focusing effect as exercise. It’s important to not play any music with lyrics if you haven’t heard the songs before. The purpose is to prevent distractions, not add to them! If EDM doesn’t work because I’m working with others or I need to stay attentive to outside interruptions, I will play white noise (often mixed with brown and pink noise).
Timers are key to focus: Use a timer and work for shorter periods. I’ve found I can work for about forty-five minutes when focused, but I start with twenty minute periods at first, building up from there. Once the timer goes off, take a mental break. Look around. Check in with others. Disengage from your task for a moment. Then, after a few moments, start your next timed session. If you work at home, an old fashioned kitchen timer can be effective, but if you work with others, a soft alert sound on your phone can be just as effective.
Alarms and reminders can keep you on task: Similar to timers, having a message pop up on your phone can jog your memory if you’ve become distracted, or keep you on track if your focus is fading. I often utilize Siri on my iPhone to set reminders. Where this tool becomes most useful is when I’m in the middle of a working session, but don’t want to forget something that comes to me. “Hey, Siri. Remind me in twenty minutes to call X.” Utilize your phone, no matter the platform, for on the fly reminders instead of trusting your memory.
Make sure you are fed and hydrated: You can’t focus without fuel, yet this one step eludes me time and time again. Hyperfocus is often to blame. I have found that when I plan in meals with my breaks as outlined above, I focus better, and I am far more productive.

When my productivity drops and time sails out the window, I know I haven’t been applying these coping strategies. I may not be able to get rid of my ADHD, but I can regulate it. Making the effort to tighten my focus helps me accomplish what I set out to do. Hopefully, these tips will help my friend, and maybe you as well.

~Dˢ

When Does Research Become a Fixation?

noreply@blogger.com (D.R. Cootey) — Thu, 27 Jan 2022 23:00:00 -0700

I pull back the curtain a bit today, revealing a deep, dark secret about myself—a secret so dank, surely I’ll lose the last three readers I have.

I’ve been reading far too many Japanese light novels lately.

It started as a form of research, but now I actually like the darn things. I can’t get enough of them. They’re my personal Pandora’s Box. I opened the beautiful, ornately engraved box, saw the plentiful wonders inside, and now I can’t shut the lid. Is this an ADHD obsession, or a newfound joy? I can’t tell, which is why I’m troubled. Have you seen my Goodreads timeline? I read almost all escapist manga and light novels these days. I know I’ve been struggling with depression lately, but it’s embarrassing! I’m sitting here wearing a Fair Isle style, wool sweater, a designer, long-sleeved, henley shirt, and Izod tech pants, not a 1-ply t-shirt featuring Sailor Moon with chip crumbs all over my belly. How will my polished author image survive this lapse in pretentiousness?

In 2019, I had noticed that many of my favorite anime that season had origins as light novels in Japan. The more I looked into them, the more I realized that most anime was based on successful light novels. I’m not sure when they crowded out manga as the number one source. Even many successful manga are light novel spin-offs these days.

The best way to describe a light novel is as if pulp fiction and anime had a baby. Most stories are told in the first person. Most are written in a rush, with rapid output outweighing literary craft as the number one priority. The emphasis is on story and entertainment, not languid, literary explorations of contemporary themes. That’s where light novels are similar to pulp fiction, but where they differ is that the stories share more in common with comics with overpowered characters, romance being secondary to adventure, and so many portals open to fantasy worlds, it’s surprising Japan has any population left. In fact, many read like visual scripts to anime—as if the authors already have the licensing goals in mind. At worst, they can be fannish, derivative tales where they don’t milk tropes as much as they stick a spicket in and drain them by the bucketful.

Light Novels are not all bad. Otherwise, I wouldn’t spend so much time enjoying them. I’ve found my favorites. The intricate settings of Ascendance of a Bookworm are inspiring, as is the characterization and complicated plot. So much detail and research went into that series that I’m a little bit in awe of it. Unnamed Memory is gorgeously written. Earlier volumes are more sumptuous than later volumes, but over all I find the strong world and character building very engaging. The story reads like a fairytale whodunnit. The marathon-named Banished from the Hero’s Party, I Decided to Live a Quiet Life in the Countryside is a LitRPG, traditional high fantasy story that slowly reveals deep explorations on the meaning of free will while it subverts the proverbial hero role. Like Unnamed Memory, the story bucks the Light Novel trend and features romance in a warm and healthy way. Also, the Rascal Does Not Dream of… series is notable for its rapid-fire and funny dialog. Imagine a Young Adult X-files crossed with Moonlighting situated in Japan. The story is funny, but the author makes me care about the characters. The last volume was a bit cruel with my heartstrings.

Reading for research is one thing, but light novels have replaced vegging out in front of the boob tube. That’s an improvement, right⸮ They’ve replaced gaming, too. The downside is now that I read for fun, I’m no longer studying the craft, the pacing, the compromises, or the output of the authors involved.

I blame j-novel.club (JNC). I paid for a subscription to read everything I could get my hands on. I wanted to understand the phenomenon better. JNC serializes the stories as they are serialized in Japan—weekly—so one can find themselves quite busy keeping on top of several series all week long. I just paid for one month, but here I am two years later. I’m just glad that JNC doesn’t serialize daily as some of the stories are released in Japan.

I’m not complaining. Light novels and Kindle Vella gave me the kick in the butt I needed to write more. Serializing daily? Do you realize how much work that is? Even if the output is a tropey lark with no originality, I am still impressed with the dedication and output. On top of my Tourette’s and other issues, the pandemic, along with family drama, snuffed out my writing flame. I felt like a podling from Dark Crystal, drained and lifeless as I moved from day to day. Now I’m anxiously engaged in a good cause in my own way instead of letting depression win.

If only I could cut back on reading and do more writing. (Serialized daily! I’m exhausted just thinking about it.)

~Dˢ

Doomsday in December?

noreply@blogger.com (D.R. Cootey) — Tue, 30 Nov 2021 23:00:00 -0700

I’m run down and sick, so I’m posting something positive every day this week until I lift my spirits.

There is a reason I’m depressed. It’s more than having major and persistent depression disorder. I’ve had a surprisingly cruddy year. I have to admit that I’m frustrated because my coping strategies are failing me. This is the sort of year that could only happen to a protagonist in a dark comedy. I’ve already written before how I was severely sick for seven months before the pandemic began. This feels like slow death sometimes. I’m so isolated from others, I’m forgetting how to be human.

Here’s my calendar since May. I think it’s a bit much:

May: I began running to lose weight and get in shape, but tore my right meniscus in my knee. I know its a torn meniscus, but insurance demands I do physical therapy first. Thus ends my newfound hobby, as well as my summer of longboarding before it began.
June: Babying my torn meniscus, I bent over to get something out of the fridge and ripped my quadratic lomborum on my right side. How did such a thing happen? When did I become so frangible? I have to cancel my knee PT.
July: My back is improving, but still sore. No exercise can be done, though I manage to walk long miles. It’s very painful, especially on the knee, but I’m determined to lose weight and get in shape. Then I catch a summer virus and go down for three weeks.
August: I feel like I’m getting back on top of my life, though my LD daughter began an extremely volatile stage this month. We haven’t seen temper outbursts like this in a few years, so it was surprising. It took up enormous amounts of time to deal with. Halfway through the month, She and I got rear ended on a highway onramp in the rain. One driver ahead of me braked, causing a pileup. The guy in front of me avoided that guy, and I avoided him, but the guy behind me wasn’t as skillful. Now I need a chiropractor, I can’t do my PT, and my car is wrecked. But we are alive and thankful that things weren’t worse.
September: Mostly filled with chiropractic visits until 2/3rds through when I have surgery to correct my torn meniscus. By the end of the month, I had one day where I began to feel functional again. I spent the day helping parents register their car, but not mine. I’d do it on Monday, except…
October: I got COVID–19 despite dual vaccinations. It was probably Delta. I have never been so sick in my life. It lasted for weeks, eating up the entire month.
November: Finally, I’m feeling normal again! I register my car. I get the insurance fiasco and repairs going. I put out fires here and there that had begun to smolder in my life. Then my daughter got RSV. I spent eight days tending to her needs. She hadn’t been as sick as that in twenty years. Then she shared it with me. I tested positive for RSV and COVID a week an a half ago. I hear I’ll test positive for COVID for up to three months. My symptoms were all RSV, but I was already run down from COVID. It was brutal. I’m still sick. Fortunately, I got the car in for repair. The bill came to over $5000, but insurance paid for it. One bright moment. I got my car back today, and I feel strangely giddy about my worldly possession. I have freedom again.
December: That’s tomorrow. Nothing short of disaster and ruin can follow up this chain of events. December shall usher in a personal Ragnarök, resulting in smoke, carnage, and a crater where my hopes and dreams once resided. Oh, is that negative? Gosh, shucks. I wonder why my outlook is so dark?

What’s most frustrating is that for most days, there is no brightness or joy in my life—just sickness, pain, and suffering. No friends to socialize with. I’m quarantining. No health to explore the world around me. I’m too sick to be active, and going outside will result in me getting more sickness. Just me stuck at home, sick and miserable with a compromised immunity system. In the past, I would hold tight and wait for Spring when the warmer weather would begin my days of living and health. It’s a dull way to live, though.

I recognize that this entry is filled with self-pity. Nobody set me up for a fall. There are no angry gods making sure my life is perfectly disastrous. Yet still, I had such high writing goals for the year. I needed to reach forward and lift myself up. I have little patience for life’s nastier distractions.

This is why I’m posting something positive every day. This journal entry doesn’t quite count. It’s sad, bitter therapy, but I feel better getting it out. No, I’m referring to my attempts at gratitude. Here is today’s:

I’m grateful for ebooks. I can go out shopping at 4am, dressed in swaddling clothes, and never leave my bed. 📖

I have not given up hope, but I may not make my writing goals. I wanted to have my new fiction work up on Kindle Vella by Saturday. That may happen. I wanted my ADHD visual ToDos book up on Kindle Unlimited by my birthday. That may happen. I owe a friend quite a few articles for his website. I think I can bang them out by the end of year, but it might be a bit much to expect them done by my birthday as well. I also wanted to reach certain goals in my Japanese studies. Those may happen. I’m not dead yet, and wallowing only makes depression stronger, which makes productivity harder. It is dour enough that I am sickly. My mental outlook doesn’t have to reflect that. I’ve been lazy in my coping strategies. It is time to recommit to being in control.

With that said, I’m being grateful and posting a blog today. I even took a selfie and tried to make myself look human. These are three proactive tasks that are hard to do when my outlook is bleak, but I feel that I’ve accomplished something, even if this blog is overly maudlin, lacking in humor, and heavy on ruthful observations. I’m getting it out of my system. I’m going to put this year behind me. I’m going to succeed.

~Dˢ

Feeling Down, So It’s Time To Be Grateful

noreply@blogger.com (D.R. Cootey) — Mon, 29 Nov 2021 09:10:00 -0700

Sometimes life gets me down. So what am I going to do about it?

I’ve been way too sick to blog lately or post here. I mostly lay in bed and cough. It’s a party! But I did get some book writing in. One more chapter, and I’ll be ready to post it on Kindle Vella. Now I just need to design a fetching avatar for the book.

I started feeling better yesterday…marginally. I had energy enough to remotely log into my four computers and setup SSH key pairs, moved some doge into a dedicated hot wallet, listed items on eBay, updated my dynamic DNS account to make sure my web and ebook servers were working, downgraded Calibre and DeDRM to fix the Mac glitch with Kindle 1.31.0 where the DRM keys weren’t passed to the new install, then upgraded them so I can make DRM-free backups of my purchases again, ignored the crypto-markets because they were depressing, worked on the impossible family jigsaw puzzle that will be the death of me before sickness ever takes me out, read a lot of books, and laid down inbetween each task to recouperate.

What’s funny is that what I want to do is vastly different from that list I just shared with you, but I simply can’t exercise or do PT yet. I can’t write as long as I can tinker. I run out of stamina. Same problem with studying Japanese. Or blogging. I wonder why tinkering on my computers is easy, but working on them is hard?

I believe the reason is that I forget to take breaks when I work, but tinkering is intellectual pudding, effortless for me to do, and I take frequent breaks in between tasks. You’d think I’d set a timer and work in small blocks when working. You know? The Pomodoro method? Ten minute increments? I’ve been so exhausted from these oxygen-depleting coughing attacks that come up from the bottom of my toes, I’ve forgotten most of my coping strategies.

So I’m typing all this here to remind myself.

I haven’t gone into details on what I’ve been dealing with this year, but let’s just say that I ate my Thanksgiving dinner quarantined in my bedroom, so this current bout of illness has me a bit down. I just want to get back in shape, socialize with people more, and ride my longboard for hours like I did last year several times a week. But it’s December, we’re in a pandemic, Omicron is around the corner, and even though my knee PT has been delayed due to my car accident and COVID–19 (and now RSV), I couldn’t go longboarding in this weather anyway. If I owned a gun, I would put pictures of viruses on a post in my backyard and shoot at them all day until I felt better.

It’s possible that I’m in a dark place. Now that I’ve vented, I believe I will post something positive every day this week until I lift my spirits.

Here we go. Positive thought No.1: I’m glad I’m not dead.

Nope. Not positive enough. It sounds more like a lyric from the Smith’s than an empowering statement of gratitude. I’m sure I can do better.

Ahem.

I’m grateful for a bright mind and geeky things to keep it entertained.

There! That was better, don’t you think? What are you grateful for?

~Dˢ

Good Grief! Where Have I Been All This Time‽

noreply@blogger.com (D.R. Cootey) — Tue, 26 Oct 2021 18:19:00 -0600

My life was briefly put on hold, thanks to a certain virus, but now I’m back, more cheeky & cynical than ever!

So much for new beginnings.

A week after my knee surgery, just as I was able to feel more human than sore, I became sick. Then sicker. Then sicker still. A quick visit to the InstaCare on a quiet Sunday evening ushered me into my new life of exhaustion and fatigue.

I’ve had five or six COVID–19 tests since the pandemic began. They were almost beginning to feel routine. That Sunday night was no different. I showed up to pick up my pre-registered self-test, then opted to be seen instead because I felt lousy. I didn’t think I had COVID–19 because I was vaccinated, but I had something. I thought it was strep throat.

I waited outside. They called me in when they were wearing their biohazard suit. I had my vitals recorded. They decided to test for Strep as well as COVID–19. I waited some more.

I’ve been there before. Multiple times doctors would tell me, “Oh, 85% I’m sure you’ve got COVID”, and I’d test negative. Every time. They just didn’t understand how sick I get. Respiratory illness is my raison d’être . A virus only has to pass by the front of my home on the other side of the street, and I’ll be bedridden for a week. I’d made progress in recent years. I’d enjoyed traveling, longboarding, and shrugging off colds after a day, but the pandemic made me unhealthier. I couldn’t get out. Couldn’t exercise. It was as if the pandemic lay on my Major Depression Disorder like an anvil, then pushed my Persistent Depression Disorder down the stairs. It helped my sleep phase disorder knock me around the clock like a hockey puck. I was back to be being sick more often than healthy again.

When the test came back positive for SARS-CoV–2, I was irritated. “C’mon!” I thought. “I followed all the rules. I wore that stupid mask. I got my shots!” Yeah, but Delta didn’t care. From what I’ve read, it had a different protein spike than the one American vaccines targeted.

Delta’s path to me was logjammed with vaccines, all of which it vaulted over grimly and with grace. Apparently, my brother’s mother-in-law went to a party, came home and gave Delta to her husband. Then they waited to get better because they couldn’t possibly have COVID–19. They were vaccinated! Everyone says get vaccinated or you’ll endanger your grandparents, as if the vaccine is a magical potion that wards off evil, but the grandparents ended up sharing the virus with their eleven-year-old grandson, who then shared it with his daddy, who then shared it with me. All of us except my nephew were vaccinated—twice.

Can I be dramatic for a moment (as if I wasn’t already over the top). I’d never been sicker in my life. It was like pneumonia and the flu had a baby in my lungs then beat me down with its diapers. I’ve been bronchial all my life, but I’d never experienced anything like this. Even watching TV or reading a book took too much energy. I was miserable. Getting air into my lungs was exhausting at times. COVID–19 weaponized my comorbid conditions, then waged war on my health. With the time recovering from surgery followed with COVID–19, I’ve lost five weeks of my life. Fun times.

Now that I’m on the mend, I’ve begun taking back my life, putting out fires, getting things back on track…and sleeping at all the wrong times of the day when I collapse, battery depleted. Things couldn’t be worse if radioactive meteors began to rain down upon me every time I ventured out to check the mail.

Don’t worry, though. My spirits are up even considering all I’ve been through. Being melodramatic is all part of my therapy. Next time I’ll tell you about my comical trip to the ER for the monoclonal antibody treatment. Being in danger of a heart attack was never so hilarious. Just make sure you have “Yakety Sax” playing in the background while you read along.

In the meantime, I hope you enjoyed the first sunset that I beheld in ages, venturing outside on my own for the first time since this whole ordeal began.

Date:   October 26, 2021 at 6:19:01 PM MDT
Weather:    46°F Mostly Cloudy
Location:   Sandy, Utah, United States

What Gets You Down?

noreply@blogger.com (D.R. Cootey) — Mon, 20 Sep 2021 15:00:00 -0600

Sometimes external forces can induce depression. They can induce panic. They can control how you see the world if you let them.

I’ve got surgery coming up this week, so I’m getting my blogging in early. I want to work on my current novel when I start to come out of the anesthesia. We’ll see how that goes. In the meantime, I’m watching the crypto market implode…again.

I decided to get into crypto last Spring—two days before China cracked down on Bitcoin miners and the Chinese banks that did business with them. I had only invested $10. It was play money, to be honest, but what a lesson that was for me! China’s crackdown caused the market to crash. That $10 became negative in just two days.

I laughed. There I was. Mr. Moneybags. The Crypto Guru. All because I was so entertained just twenty-four hours earlier when my $10 had gained 50¢ in value.

The main character of my book made and lost a fortune in crypto, so I wanted to understand that world better before writing about it. He lost his business. He lost his girl. He lost his charm, optimism, and self-respect. He was destroyed in a week. It wasn’t my goal to lose my $10 bucks. I don’t need to write that authoritatively! However, I did feel that some background knowledge would make me write a more realistic character.

They say that the cryptocurrency market is volatile. Saying that is like saying the sun is somewhat warm. Since Spring I have seen the crypto market crash three times. It’s doing so again right now. It will probably be up again sometime after my surgery, but for the moment it is leaving a trail of blood all the way to the floor. The common internet advice is to “buy the dip”, which means buy during the crash. I’m not in a position to do that. I’m better off focusing on paying off my medical bills. Besides, sometimes dips have dips, too.

Though minuscule, watching my investment shrivel last Spring wasn’t a happy feeling, but I was insulated from the depression and panic many people experienced when their investments went South because I hadn’t invested very much, but also because I had already prepared to potentially lose it all.

Which made me wonder how people actually lost money on the stock market. As long as the market goes back up, I haven’t lost anything. I’d have to sell at a loss to lose my investment. As part of my book research, I talked to family members who had lost money in the stock market crash in 2008. With my newfound knowledge, it seemed the only way they could lose anything is if they sold low—which is exactly what they did. They sold for fear that getting something was better than getting nothing.

Panic & depression cause us to make very emotional decisions. Our worldview is skewed darkly as we envision nothing by doom. For me, my investment in crypto wasn’t meant to make me rich, so I wasn’t emotionally impacted by the dips. However, I mused that there were many other external forces that caused me to panic and be depressed aplenty.

This time I don’t have a succinctly numbered list of advice for you. I’m still formulating ideas. One thing I can say is that the trick to not becoming depressed by external forces is to separate your mind from the events that are impacting you. Personally speaking, I have to decide that those external forces don’t impact me at all. Just as the ups and downs of the crypto market don’t affect my self-worth, I need to ensure that the ups and downs in my life don’t affect my self-worth either.

My entire book on fighting suicide was based on the idea that there is always a dawn. Improving our perspective through discipline is a very appealing thought process to me. I am grateful for the second crypto crash this month for reminding me of this lost lesson…….

~Dˢ

Date: September 20, 2021 at 2:53:10 PM MDT
Weather: 61°F Sunny
Location: Sandy, Utah, United States

Finding the Beauty in Chaos

noreply@blogger.com (D.R. Cootey) — Sun, 19 Sep 2021 12:30:00 -0600

A new beginning that looks an awful lot like the old one.

When I set out to explore fractal art, I face a confusing array of controls & parameters. It has taken me years to develop the eye to select the best cropping, the most flattering palette, and the most interesting settings, then present them in a pleasing manner. Without this discipline, the fractal is an utter mess with no focus. By making a few poorly chosen decisions, the same mathematical location and the same color palette can appear completely different—and far less appealing.

Of course, anybody with the time and desire to learn the software can produce pleasing images. It isn’t as if I received a PhD in advance fractal art, traveling to distant lands to study with the Mandelbrot masters before writing my doctoral thesis on the societal implications of sliders versus number fields and how they subvert the patriarchy.

However, as I was exploring a particular fractal set the other day,—tweaking the parameters to get something beautiful to leap out of the screen—I had an interesting thought that caused me to stop and ponder:

I wish my life was as easy to organize as these fractals are.

There is too much chaos to detail here, but suffice it to say that my life is more like the bottom image with its cacophony of line and color, overwhelmed with indiscernible patterns. It feels like absolute and total chaos, and I’m not pleased about it one single pixel.

I sat there wondering what my slider controls were. What could I tweak to bring my life back into focus? Was it as simple as choosing a new palette, in other words, changing the scenery? How could I pacify the waves of chaos that seemed to be carrying me far from my goals? Oh, I self-pontificated grandly, assigning various aspects of my life as metaphorical tools in my fractal art program. After a few minutes of that, though, I realized it was all a bit silly. There is no “frequency” dial in my life to reduce the amount of chaos.

But if there could be such a dial, what would it look like? How would I use it? Would I want to?

Since the pandemic, my family life has become complicated. I don’t write as much as I’d like. I don’t draw or play instruments anymore. It seems that I am entirely preoccupied dealing with my disabilities as well as those of my daughter. I must admit that I am thoroughly depressed, my ADHD is not being managed well, and my Tourette’s is running my life. Although I am not lying down, playing the victim, I am so busy surviving that I am giving no consideration to thriving.

Instead of being knocked around by life, I want to choose the direction. Recording my thoughts on social media has long lost its charm. I want to thrive. It’s not enough to tread water. We only tire ourselves out that way. Instead, we need a clear direction to head in.

Since I’m still living out in the fractal weeds, so to speak, that clear direction that I want in my life is obscured by chaos. I’ve decided to record my thoughts as I work through the process. ocial media has lost much of its appeal for me, yet blogging has also lost its appeal. I began to worry too much about each article being quotable, SEO-optimized, and shared. So I’ve begun a new journal instead, then post the pages here. I’ll try to get back to my roots to when I began blogging, offering more personal observations.

I will discuss my process more, working through my ADHD, depression, Tourette’s, and family life as obstacles. It’ll be more like my old Writing in a Fishbowl series, but I will try to be less colloquial and more beautiful in the way that I write. Finding beauty in chaos starts with me. I need to highlight the good in my life and emphasize my progress.

I hope you won’t mind coming along for the ride. There are some beautiful sights to behold. They may have even been right in front of my face, but I missed them because I was focused on the chaos instead.

~Dˢ

Date: September 19, 2021 at 12:30:54 PM MDT
Weather: 76°F Sunny
Location: Sandy, Utah, United States