No Luck: New Meds, But Still Fidgets

I have not been able to get over the reasons behind Mr. PhD's very odd behavior. I'm the kind of girl who would give someone the shirt off my back. I've always had a heart for underdogs (something a lot of adults with ADHD can sympathize with), and despised the pompous and arrogant—the people who think they are Porsches when they are really Kias.

The sister saw the email from Mr. PhD and said it is only human to be hurt and mad at the "prick." I would think I could trust someone I've been friends with for two years. Instead I was tossed over the boat like a bag of potato chips after the swim. "Okay, done with you," Mr. PhD seemed to say. We never had a sexual relationship but I thought we had a friendship.

“Next on the Rolodex,” friends say, but I am a sentimentalist on top of that, and I wonder what I did wrong as both a woman and a woman with ADHD. I know that I do have trouble keeping friends. Maybe it is the musical chair-like moves that have defined my professional and personal life, or the inner critic, who has a sixth sense but judges others as if they were contestants on American Idol.

Anyway, it is day three at a conference I am attending on the future of writing (which seems like it is all headed to Twitter). I've been taking the Adderall, or the Kmart version of it, but still I find that I've been fidgeting a lot and making lists as I attempt and struggle to listen effectively to the speakers. Yesterday it wasn't simply boredom—it was as if I wanted to pay attention, but could not.

It is my last day here, and I will miss the slower pace of life. I don't really want to return to reality. In bright lights, big city, I feel more lost than ever, and for the ADHDer who knows that less is more, it is like a death trap.