When I was 13 years old I sat in front of a Dr who was describing to me that I had an affliction passed on from my parents, ADHD. While he was talking he made mention that this was why even during our conversation, I would stare out his window of his small mountain town office, while he was trying to explain to me, a 13 year old, how the brain synapsis fire wrong. That due to the ADHD and due to my ‘other’ genetic issues, these “fire-ing’s” were not meeting with each other giving me a lapse in my attention. He stated (all in full seriousness) that this trait was a positive thing if I were “a hominid living in the dawn of man because I could help give awareness of the oncoming danger around” but was ultimately useless in our modern day world. This Dr’s daughter and I went to the same school at the time, and two days prior to my appointment, she came to school and placed a bloody knife in the locker of her then boyfriend with a note that stated something along the lines of “this is how you make me feel when you don’t call or talk to me”. I asked the Doctor what part of the brain would lead a person to do this.
I think that was the moment the Dr started to dislike me.
After each medication I would try, at some point mounting to an avalanche of little white pills, the Dr and I would have a “visit” to discuss the medications and what was wrong with the last one. I was about 3 months into one of my medication choices, Vyvanse (a very popular ADHD drug), when I stopped taking it in secrete because it would destroy my appetite for the entire day. I am sorry but even I could tell the benefit of paying attention to whatever movie the substitute chose this time was not worth the hunger pangs I would get when the medication would wear off around 4 that afternoon. The Dr told me this was fine and normal and should continue to take the medication regardless. I insisted we should try a new medication as the patient.
During another visit the Dr told me to stop being ‘Sad’. Round of applause for this guy am I right? I can understand I was a little shit at this point and can take some fault; he was only trying to describe to me the next new drug I was to be taking and I upset him by only responding to whatever he said with ‘Fair’.
“this medication will maybe have some adverse reactions including a diminish in your appetite”
‘fair’
“if you think it is affecting your sleep stop taking it or contact me”
‘fair’
“do you understand that this medication should and is against the law to share with anyone else in your school”
‘fair’
“this is serious and you need to stop saying Fair to me and tell me you understand me”
‘fair’
See, little shit. But also, if a 15 year old with ADHD and Dyslexia and whatever other things I may have been diagnosed with gets under your skin as a Dr, (someone with his own children), maybe look into something else or reevaluate your job? I would say it is very rare I get flustered to this level and I think I am still half his age now as he was then.
One time on the drive home my mom asked why the Dr. thought I was depressed. She made mention that maybe I should be tested and if I had any dark thoughts. Ones where I wanted to hurt myself.
I am not sure the look I gave her but she dropped the conversation very quickly. Dark thoughts? That part of the world had never even come close to crossing my mind. If anything, I was probably thinking about something along the likes of “that Starfire character from Teen Titans is kind of hot” or whatever was to happen that coming weekend seeing as school at that time had little to interest me besides English and science class.
What I do recall though is I was and still am at times a little melancholy. And in even writing that I would like to state that I enjoy being melancholy from time to time. I miss being able to feel this way without being judged or considered depressed or in need of therapy or medication to make me happy. I recall that very thought over 15 years ago even now. Why does everyone need to be ‘happy’. Is it okay to want to just sit and think and be pensive? Do we need to drown out the moments in our lives that make us a little or even fully uncomfortable?
My girlfriend right now is uncomfortable at the fact that I don’t really cry either. She has in fact stated that she “savors the day” she will get to see me cry. Let alone I think that’s a little strange, the want to see someone so hurt they cry. Do I feel judged for not crying when others tend to? I mean who wouldn’t. Its not like sit around and judge those who cry at the slightest happenstance like a video of a tiny kitten sitting in a teacup.
I think the last time I cried a little was a friend of mines wedding. He looked so over joyed with happiness and love and when his soon to be wife walked down the aisle, there was a sense of pride I felt for him, his wife, and even a little for myself, that I should be so deeply honored to be a guest and an individual at such a special occasion.
But just a day ago, a man I grew up with, an Uncle of mine who was while not blood to my father, a best friend of his, past away after a few years of battling various painful ailments and sicknesses. I respect my friends for asking me if I am alright, which I am right now. I had not talked with my uncle in years and seeing as most information I got about him came from my father who is a little estranged in our family, his passing is sad to me, but not tears sad. At a funeral for my best friends mom a little over a year ago, I recall crying a bit at the funeral. Kay was a pseudo mother during my high school years who showed me nothing but kindness and care whenever I was ever over there or even hundreds of miles away checking in with me a couple times while I was away at college.
But now the cycle is about to repeat. I inform friends and girlfriend that a family member from my youth has passed away and I will be inundated with questions of:
“are you alright?” “Its okay to cry, we understand.” or “that sucks, let me know if I can help in anyway, do you need a moment to yourself?”
Again I appreciate this, but how do you tell people who cry so easily, that crying to you just isn’t something that happens all that often, and in some way that they understand this without judging you or even worrying more about you.
I am not a person who was raised in the environment where crying was deemed “unmanly” or not the thing “boys” do. I watched my own father and father figures of mine cry on several occasions and never thought any less of them for it. I cried a fair amount as a child as well.
But why cant a person just be okay when they say they are.
Maybe there was just a massive shift in the other direction from when I was younger. Like because so many kids grew up in the households where men do not cry and boys don’t cry, we are now on the other side of swinging pendulum where everyone HAS to cry. Can we not take a moment and look at this as the spectrum that it is? If there is someone who can look at a flower in bloom in spring and shed sobbing tears because of its beauty, and that is perfectly fine thing to do, then someone who needs a lot to cry is also an acceptable way of emotional status?
Again I am not trying to say I am hurt about anything above. I guess I just miss being a person who could be melancholy, or not worry that the movie didn’t make me shed tears when everyone else is sobbing, without having to explain myself to others again or thought of a someone who was not in tune with their emotions. That maybe someone would look at me and think, “that’s a fine thing to be.”
And maybe eliminating the constant stress on some induvial to always be the “most focused” “most happy” “most in tune with societies emotions” may create a positive change in our communities. The ability to look at someone and eliminate the phrase “resting bitch face” and rather say “that is Sam”.
And maybe at the very least we wouldn’t have a Dr sit across from a teenager and tell them their brain is wrong.
*Big Fish still gets me teary eyed at the end
Casual Entropy 