After years functioning fairly well on 60 mg of Ritalin a day, I decided I needed more help with managing my procrastination problems which would rear their ugly heads in the evenings and on weekends.

The procrastination created a huge backlog of chores and I would suffer from complete "task anxiety" every time I would walk past my 4 foot-high pile of laundry or contemplate exactly how long the double sink full of dishes would take once I actually "started". I developed a profound and almost ingenious theory of Scientifically Justifying why it would be better to do it "later". I was the Goddess of Putting Things Off.

I had started a new relationship that I knew in my heart was "The One". I also knew that my new love was a fortunate member of the large population of Reasonably Neat And Organized Human Beings who share our planet.

I needed to make some changes. I envied the seemingly effortless ability of my partner to be able to actually start, and finish daily household chores so efficiently. I decided I wanted and NEEDED to be capable of managing the cleaning, laundry and other mundane tasks I could not seem to get control of once my Ritalin had run its course for the day.

I had the answer. I had seen the ad's and I "knew" that Strattera was going to cure me. I would be a Domestic Goddess, a Champion of All that was Clean and Organized...a Full Fledged, Card Carrying, Proud Member of the Reasonably Neat And Organized Human Beings.

Or so I thought. First 36 mg a day, then 54.....as of 2 days ago, roughly, A year had passed. I believe I have slept most of that year away. Out of nowhere appeared sores on my face, back of my arms and legs, I am not really sure when I stopped... wearing makeup, having my hair styled, getting my nails done, caring what I looked like, paying attention to the one person who means more to me than anything, caring what other people thought, taking pride in my appearance, hanging out with my friends, being creative, being beautiful, being alive. I was oblivious to the slow decline and to the fact that I was losing my relationship. I had been floating in a fog for the last year and had had lost the spirit that was once me. I had not become a member of the Reasonably Neat And Organized Human Beings, I had not become a domestic goddess, I was no longer even a disorganized goddess. I was a mess.

2 days ago, as my love contemplated leaving what was left of me, I went and looked in the mirror. I know there was a reflection but it was not me. It couldn't be me. I was beautiful, creative, fun, a member of Mensa, a lover of Quantum Theories and Mozart, a Fighter, a Procrastinator. I was not this reflection.

I immediately dumped my Strattera into the toilet and watched as the capsules spun out of control just like my life had. Yesterday, less than 24-hours free of my medication induced prison, I felt more clear and more alive than I can even explain. I want my life back. I want "me" back. Today, I am wearing High Heels, I have makeup on, people are noticing me, I feel clear and alive, and it is only day one.

I will never be a "real" member of the Reasonably Neat And Organized Human Beings, or a domestic goddess, or a Champion of All that is Clean and Organized. There is no magic Pill that will fix that. I have to fix it. I have to keep my tasks small, I have to work hard everyday to manage my A.D.D and now, that I am back, I can do it. I can't wait to start...

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