The Power of Ritalin (If Used Correctly)
So. This is interesting. It's two months since my last post, in which I was eager to continue talking about my recent journey into exploring my neurodivergence, and in those intervening two months, I found myself never, not once, wanting to resume blogging.
This morning, however, was different. Alarmingly different. For reasons that align exactly with the events that preceded the first post, and the birth of this blog. It all confirms to me that my suspicions were correct, but I need to finally explain the original context before moving forward.
Sit down, get comfy. I'm going to get all "storybook".
A few months back, before the blog, I spoke with my psychiatrist about my struggles to get started in the morning, even with the assistance of Ritalin. My concern was that the tablets I was taking were slow-release - which means they dispense the dosage incrementally throughout the day, rather than dumping it all in your system in one go - and as a result, I was struggling to notice the effects before I was already at work.. in which time, I was already suffering from the effects of an ADHD-addled morning. I was still slow to rise, foggy-headed in the morning, and always, always late for work.
I told my psychiatrist that if my day starts in such a bad way, the Ritalin is only serving to pick up the pieces of an already wounded day, rather than preventing the damage happening in the first place, and I expressed my interest in adjusting the medication to be more active, earlier. He was sympathetic, but intrigued to hear the medication wasn't helping in the morning; even slow-release should at least be noticeable in the early morning. He suggested that I try taking it a little earlier, but generally concluded that I probably have a slow metabolism, and prescribed an extra set of low-dose, fast-release tablets to supplement my morning.
Fade to black. End of prologue. This is where the opening credits would play. And now... we pick up the main thread of the narrative.
On the morning of the 2nd of July, I woke up an hour or two before my alarm. It wasn't a true stirring awake, more of a mild interruption in my sleep. I was conscious enough to think about what my psychiatrist said, and realised it was a good opportunity to take my Ritalin. It couldn't hurt, after all...
About half an hour later, I sat bolt upright. I was fizzing. I don't know how else to describe it. That feeling you get, a feeling I only get in very rare but exciting moments, when a powerful idea takes hold, and you want to just pursue it, and every cell of your body is filled with a kind of giddy enthusiasm and momentum, had just inexplicably washed over me. I had no powerful idea. I had been struck with no lightning bolt of inspiration.
God damn it, the doctor was right. Just take your meds earlier!
I hopped out of bed, a good half hour before my alarm was due to go off, and I went straight to the bathroom.
But no, oh no no no, I thought. I can't just start the day as usual, but earlier. I need to document this.
In a bit of a fever, I dusted off my old Blogger account, spent a little too long figuring out the best way to blog on my phone, and then typed the first post of this very blog.
I believe I stopped typing because I realised I had become as on time, if not a little less agonisingly late as any other day, as a result of my blog odyssey, and so quickly resumed my day.
But the thought remained. Holy shit, the medication works. All the stories I heard about it unlocking people's minds... It took me longer than expected to witness that for myself, admittedly, but here we are!
I vowed to keep taking my medication earlier in the morning, and to open a new chapter in my life...
Well you know what happened next. Two months happened.
It turns out, to reliably take the ADHD medicine every morning at a set time, you also need one other thing... and that's not to have ADHD.
And so, inevitably, my routine fell back into its usual chaos. It got worse at times, in fact. An example was this past Saturday, when I slept in and so took my Ritalin very late, around noon. I realised I needed to do laundry and fell into what I can only describe as an executive dysfunction fugue state. I had to cancel social plans because the thought of doing laundry had broken me.
This morning, however, was the same story as July. I woke up, spontaneously, decided to pop a tablet, and went back to sleep.
Suddenly, my brain is shaking me awake like an excited puppy.
Let's go! Let's do it! We have so much we can do today!
My first thought was to document it, once again, as I did in July. The similarities in the circumstances being so clear, it made perfect sense to pick up the narrative again, and compare the two experiences.
I can't overstate the significance of feeling this way about nothing in particular. The thing is, for all my inattention and brain fog, I've felt this before. I became a professional animator because I took the initiative to bury my head into the craft of animation, because I made stuff as a kid and got excited and actively involved. There was some incredible paternal assistance, for which I never gave my dad enough credit for at the time, but I also remember this feeling, this lovely, fizzy, fidgety-bum feeling that I wanted to go and make something right now. It's what fuelled those teenage summer holidays, when I'd hole myself away for weeks at a time, animating a music video or visually adapting episodes of a podcast I made with friends.
As the years went on, before I realised my condition, I became increasingly disconnected from that feeling. As adult life slowly, inevitably stacked responsibility after responsibility in my head, the space in there I had to play became too small for that feeling to trigger, at least recreationally.
Thankfully, I'd gotten my foot in the door of the animation industry nice and early, before adulthood had really had a chance to set in, and so I managed to keep the tiniest thread of that magical feeling within grasp. It fuelled my work. It still does. But in a sense, it became an occasional function of business, rather than a regular force for good in my life - and an inconsistent one, at that. Personal projects were, and are, few and far between, because on the rare occasion that sensation kicks in, it's usually deployed as a survival tactic in the workplace. Oh thank god I'm feeling some enthusiasm; I might be able to hit this deadline...
All the while, I should add, it didn't even occur to me that it was a specific thing. When it happened, it was in reaction to something, so it felt more like the thing I was excited about, whatever the thing was at any moment, was the event, rather than my feelings, my brain chemistry. But now, having taken Ritalin early enough for it to naturally stir me awake, and therefore to be able to just feel its effects on what is essentially, at 7.30 in the morning, as otherwise blank a canvas as my mind can ever be in the day, I'm astonished to feel this familiar feeling... with no strings attached.
No projects, no deadlines, no specific, immediate obsessions.
Just.... feeling it!
It's truly incredible. I can only hope a second, identical experience will spur me into action and keep this routine going.
A fun side effect is that I know my psychiatric was right when he suggested, in passing, that I should just take the meds a little earlier. He was courteous enough to entertain my other theory, and I have an extra, optional fast-release tablet for that. But now I feel less obliged to take it in the morning alongside my normal prescription, which frees it up, if required, as a little Ritalin booster later in the day. Win win!
Anyway, yes. I'm feeling a potent cocktail of gratitude, nostalgia and responsibility. I see the clock has hit 7.30, so if I wrap this up now, it will be as if I woke up as normal - but with momentum.
I'm still buzzing. This is exciting. I hope I don't read this back, once the meds wear off, with too much resentment, because it's potentially the start of amazing things. I just need to keep framing this as a positive development and act on these findings.
Okay. Signing off.