Should you stop taking your Adderall or Vyvanse or Dexadrine now that you've heard Dr. Tracy Ware's presentation about the potential dangers of amphetamines? Maybe yes. Maybe no.

I just got off the phone with a woman (let's call her "Maggie") who recently started taking Vyvanse with great success. No side effects and improved attention, etc. After she listened to Tracy's presentation, she was unnerved by the possibility of brain damage with amphetamines so she switched medications (to a second tier ADHD drug). Maggie's been in a downward spiral ever since. Missed appointments, foggy brain, battered self esteem. Nothing we aspire to, right?

So why didn't she immediately stop the new meds and go back to Vyvanse? I suspect she called me for a reality check on whether I believed amphetamines really killed off brain cells. And I do. I told Maggie that many medications have potentially serious consequences: high blood pressure medication can cause sexual problems for men. The FDA reported today that taking a malaria drug could cause severe kidney damage and heart failure. There are unintended consequences to almost every choice we make.

But also I told her that returning to Vyvanse sounded like a good idea. I'm not a medical doctor so my opinion is worth about what you pay for it – $0. But it makes eminent sense to me to stick with something that works versus flailing around trying to save your brain cells. And yes, I DO understand that salvaging brain cells is an important goal, but the jury is still out on whether those cells will regenerate or not. There is a LOT we don't know yet about the brain and how it repairs itself.

Even more important, there is a quality of life issue here.  We ADD women have been through a lot of stuff (OK, sh**t) in our lives. Finding a medication that actually works to bolster our time management, organization, sense of well being, is a godsend.

We shouldn't stop exercising because we might pull a hamstring or sprain an ankle. And we shouldn't stop taking our amphetamine medication because someone told us there is potential for cell death. For heavens sake do NOT stop taking medication without telling your doctor! Those consequences could be even more dire than continuing the meds!

Anyway, Dr. Ware doesn't shun amphetamines; she prescribes them for her patients who need them. That includes those of us who don't see much improvement with Ritalin-family meds (like Tracy's own husband!).

The fact that I stopped taking my Adderall was more about looking at the factors that were causing me to feel out of control and a bit crazed. Sure there is a lot going on in my life. There is ALWAYS a lot going on in my life. And changing one thing at a time, to see the effects, is the way I can narrow down the cause of the problem, and then find my way back to a solution.

I don't know about you, but I want to feel alive every day. I want to feel good about myself and productive. I want to feel proud of myself and I'd like the people I love to be proud of me, too. It's not too much to ask of an ADD life. I know. I've lived it. And I'm going back there.

That means I will probably go back to Adderall. Not sure yet. Working on it. But if I do return to amphetamine medication, it will be MY truth about stimulants. Not Tracy's. Not Maggie's (Vyvanse is awful for me, BTW). Not Susan's or Ellen's or Mary's. Mine.

You need to find YOUR truth about stimulant medication. Yes. No. Maybe. Sometimes. Alternatives. Rotating. It's all part of the mix. If there is one thing I have learned about ADHD it's that it is literally a different experience for everyone. Personalized treatment..that's where we're headed, according to another psychiatrist who visited our Meetup group last night.

Work with your doctor, monitor your symptoms, get reaction from your loved ones. Find your OWN truth and then, make peace with it. None of us are gonna get out of this alive. Something, somewhere, sometime when we least expect it and probably don't want it, will cause our bodies to shut down and we'll bid farewell to the mortal coil.

So how do you want to live your life in the meantime? At my retreats I always read a poem by Mary Oliver that ends with this line: "Tell me, what is you plan to do with your one wild and precious life?"

You alone have the answer. For all of it.

Someone asked me recently how to get past the deep sense of failure we ADHD women feel when we contemplate trying again to — fill in the blank with whatever you like. We have "failed" so many times that the subject doesn't really matter.

What does matter is my answer: it was all about my husband, Victor. When I faltered in my attempts to start the ADDiva Network, it was Victor that gently, but honestly, reminded me that this was the work I was born to do.

He stood by me, reassuring me over and over (I need a big dose of encouragement) and eventually, I began to believe him. And eventually I began to succeed.

The news may seem dismal, if you're not in a steady relationship with someone you love, or worse, if your relationship isn't supportive of you and your ADHD. But it doesn't require a fabulous husband or partner to gain that confidence in yourself. It requires someone on the outside reflecting back to you just how miraculous you truly are.

You are, you know.

A miracle, that it.

The fact that you cared enough about YOURSELF to read this post (not to mention finding the ADDiva Network in the vast ocean of the internet) means that you haven't given up hope. And when you have hope, there is a tiny pinprick of light that you can hear, and eventually believe, the good news about YOU. Yes, you.

ADHD isn't a life sentence (although a lot of people will tell you so), it just is. And your past does NOT predict your future. Will you be linear and color inside the lines if you have someone supportive in your life? Nope. But you'll feel a lot better about coloring without any lines at ALL.

Victor is a miracle, too. He's survived cystic fibrosis for nearly 59 years. The doctors told his parents he wouldn't see 19, let alone 59. So I take my turn in supporting him (even though he doesn't need a lot of support; he's pretty self assured these days).

It take someone outside our ADHD bodies to see the goodness that lies within. It takes a husband or a friend or a mom or a cousin or a coach or a therapist. It takes someone who won't get tired of reminding you again and again that you are worthwhile until … until … you know it's true.

My son Gregory called tonight and said three words that warm a grandma's heart: "Get on Skype!"

And so I did. And Lilly Jean was cooing and cackling and grabbing and crawling and…I can't help it. I'm just fascinated by her. Such a personable little gal, not afraid to show her personality or ask for what she wants (and let's face it, what she wants often is food, sleep or freedom to roam).

She's so uninhibited and fresh, I admit it puts my whimsical side to shame. She has no compunction about spitting out food she doesn't like. She doesn't censor the expressions on her little face if something is too sour or chewy. She wrinkles that young brow and sticks out her tongue – yuck! She gets rid of it!

I'm sure I did the same thing before I was "socialized" to be polite and swallow the offending food anyway, or use a spoon to discreetly remove it and hide it under a lettuce leaf on the salad plate.

I think it's time to take a lesson from the little Lillykins: tell the truth about what you don't like (and what you do)! For me, those dislikes include shirts with scratchy tags in the bag (cut them OUT right now!), waiting in line at the grocery store (what a WASTE of time!) and being forced to work inside when the sun is shining outside (I wanna garden, mommie!).

But on the plus side…I really love that little Lillykins!

Recently, I heard a doctor tell a TV audience that stimulants like Ritalin and Adderall improve focus for ANYBODY, not just people with Attention Deficit Hyperactivity Disorder. His point was that a positive response to stimulant medication is not proof of an ADHD diagnosis.

Wait a minute. When I first tried stimulants they put me to sleep! It was the first thing that convinced me that I really had ADHD. I'd heard that people with ADHD have a "paradoxical response" to medication, so if I was sleepy after I took Dextrostat, I must have an ADD brain.

I later learned that I had misinterpreted that information. Stimulants don't really have an opposite effect on ADHD brains. Instead, they realign the dance of specific neurotransmitters so the neurotransmitters can hit their mark in the neuron network. I fell asleep when I took Dextrostat (100% dextroamphetamine) because it was the wrong medication for my particular brain chemistry. Adderall (a combination of four different amphetamine salts including dextroamphetamine) worked wonders for me – no midday naps, much more focus.

The TV doctor was reacting to news that some college students swallow stimulant tablets before exams to improve their competitive edge. No word on whether the stimulants actually boosted the students' test scores, but the doctor implied that the groundswell of adult ADHD diagnoses was based more on requests for stimulants than legitimate medical testing.

This kind of pseudo-medical nonsense makes me mad. It took me a long, long time to believe that my ADHD diagnosis was accurate. Now I realized I was deeply  influenced by the skepticism of the media, the public and even the medical community about the legitimacy of ADHD. There was the pharmaceutical conspiracy theory: Big Pharma had concocted ADHD to boost their profitability. Adult ADHD was trivialized: only children could suffer from this silly little disorder so if you "still" have ADHD you must be immature. There was stigma attached to having something "wrong" with your brain: ADHD people are to be shunned or at least marginalized. No wonder I wanted nothing to do with any of it.

But here I am, broadcasting my ADHD story to anyone who stumbles across this blog. Obviously, I've come to terms with my ADHD. I know it's legit, that I am not a hypochondriac and that I certainly would never choose to take powerful medication if it wasn't necessary.

It's my responsibility – and yours, if you or someone you love has been diagnosed with ADHD – to combat the misinformation that masquerades as truth.

Do some of today's college students take stimulants before exams? You bet. Just like some college students took No-Dose when I was in college in the 1970s. And just like mega doses of caffeine, stimulants send those little neurotransmitters into hyperdrive in "normal" brains, creating frenzy instead of focus

Does it mean that adult ADHD is over-diagnosed? Nope. In fact, it is dramatically under-diagnosed; estimates show that only 10% of adults with ADHD are actually diagnosed and treated. Mark my words: in the next few years, we will see dramatic increase in the number of adults who are newly diagnosed with ADHD.

There will be a tipping point, a place at which an ADHD diagnosis carries no emotional baggage. It will merely be a condition to be treated, much like Type 1 diabetes or kidney disease. And then we can get on with the rest of our amazing and extraordinary lives.

This article first appeared in ADDitude Magazine online.

I can see clearly now — but only when I can find my glasses. So, I have discovered the best invention ever for attention deficit adults.

For the most part, I don’t mind getting older (quite possibly because I am in denial).  “Age spots” don’t send shudders down my spine – they look like freckles to me. I’ve never had freckles; they seem kinda friendly, like Pippi Longstocking.

And I’ve never been obsessed about the differential between the year I was born and the year displayed on my cell phone. Birthdays, schmirthdays. Who cares? I admit, however, I’m a bit shocked that 60 is coming at me like a freight train. Oh how my attitude changes with perspective! As an adolescent, my matter-of-fact view was that by 60 you were on death’s doorstep; today, I’m convinced that 60 really IS the new 40; or 35.

But when I have to squint to read the instructions on the back of the pizza box (they made the print smaller, I swear), I’m ready to turn back the clock. Reading glasses, of course, make all the difference in my reading comprehension.  Sadly, my glasses are rarely within an arm’s reach, my first criterion for actually plopping them on my face.

I thought I’d solve the problem by stashing multiple pairs of inexpensive readers all over the house (Costco kindly sells them in the convenient three-pack). But somehow the glasses migrate to my computer or bedside, under papers, stuck in drawers, tangled into a magnifying heap.

So imagine my delight when I discovered that the FOFA folks (that’s Find One Find All, the best invention ever for ADDivas) had unveiled a new locator device for glasses. Woo hoo!

A word of explanation: a couple of years ago I found a fabulous key locator in, of all places, Radio Shack (yes, yes, I “located” a key locator!). The package contained two devices, one for a key ring, the other for a wallet. Each had six buttons with numbers. I learned how to set up the locator so that when I lost the car keys, for instance, I could press “1” on the wallet device and the key ring would beep. If I lost my wallet, I could press “2” on the key ring and the wallet device would beep. Great idea, great execution. I only needed to find one thing with the beeper and I could find up to six other missing objects that were attached to a FOFA. I wanted more of them, but Radio Shack stopped selling them.

I delved into the Internet to track down the manufacturer (“made in China” was my only clue). Finally I found it, a small company in Texas owned by the “Find One, Find All” inventor.

I ordered several sets of their ‘new and improved’ FOFA model, attaching one to my camera, my van keys, my purse, my cell phone. They worked! What a miracle; I wanted to buy stock in the company. I eagerly ordered the new glasses locator.

It was, well, a disappointment. I’m sure it’s my ADD sensitivities, but I can’t stand even a tiny bit of weight around my neck. The little button panel, even shrunk down to less than half its original size, proved far too distracting for me.

So, I’m heading back to Costco today. A few more three-packs and I’ll have so many pairs of readers, they’ll always be within an arms reach. And perhaps I won’t burn the pizza next time.

This article first appeared in ADDitude Magazine online.

Maybe it’s my ADD, but I still feel like I AM a child! So how am I gonna be a grandma to a little girl who will expect grownups to act like, well, grownups?

I spent an hour online this morning, trying to find a nickname I can live with and I’m running out of time. Little Lilly Surratt will make her appearance any day now and I have no idea what to call myself.

It’s my first grandbaby and I’m having a little trouble coming to grips with the fact that:
a) I am actually old enough to be a grandma and
b) it’s happening whether I like it or not.

Most of my friends already wear the “grandma” crown. They tell me it’s wonderful, that they can’t imagine anything better. My neighbor can’t wait to cradle her first grandchild.

Maybe it’s my ADD, but I still feel like I AM a child! I like skipping and silliness and jumping on beds and turning somersaults. (You know, I haven’t done that for a while, I think I’ll turn one right now! OK, scratch somersaults off the list). But I do like strong sea breezes and fuzzy caterpillars. And I really like staying up past my bedtime. I do it a lot!

So how am I gonna be a grandma to a little girl who will expect grownups to act like, well, grownups? I don’t have to figure it out today, I suppose. Perhaps I don’t have to figure it out at all. Maybe I can be the whimsical, wacky grandma who builds tents out of blankets and has afternoon tea in her purple treehouse (oh yes, there IS a purple treehouse at GardenSpirit).

Oh my gosh! If ADD is genetic, as many researchers suspect, perhaps Lilly will be “one of us.” Our youngest ADDiva-in-training! This is exciting!

Perhaps Lilly and I will spend goofy mornings finger painting the fence and then take a nap in the hammock under the southern pines that tower over my house. We might take a walk in the Carolina sunshine and snuggle in for a batch of homemade blueberry scones.

As much as I hate labels, maybe I can stretch this Grandma thing to fit me – kind like my favorite jeans. I suspect it won’t really matter what she calls me in the end – Oma or La-La or Gi-Gi or even… gulp… Grandma.

Hey, we might need a new ADDiva category: GrandADDiva! OK, Lilly, I’ve got you covered! Come on out into the world, baby girl!

I am beginning to scare myself.

I have always been a top notch speller – drives me a little crazy to come across misspelled words in books and even blog posts (!). And I’ve been typing since high school (omg, that’s coming up on 40 years ago), so I don’t think I am simply mistyping the words (like nad instead of and)

OMG!!!! 40 years??? That’s a post for another day….

Point is that more and more often, I misspell simple words, transpose letters and sometimes even words when I type emails or posts or ….anything.

It’s a constant irritating descrepancy that makes me worry that I am developing dyslexia in my 50s!  Never ever had a learning problem and reading is not an issue (except when I miss half the email in my rush to get through the barrage). So it’s probably not true dyslexia. But still…

I am having the same problems with phone numbers. I have dialed the wrong numbers again and again, hitting the numbers in reverse order or worse.  I could chalk that up to not wearing my glasses when I call someone…the numbers blend together and my fingers could stray a bit.  It’s embarrassing, though, to reach someone who isn’t happy that I called during their nap!

Failing eyesight doesn’t explain the spelling, though.  I can see what I type. My brain knows the spelling. But I just sent an email to a friend that said:

"When you do you come home?"

The "you" and "do" sound alike, but I inserted the "you" twice and in the wrong order.  This is a pretty tame example; I’ve done worse. And it is scaring me.

I’ve read enough to know that early onset Alzheimer’s is rare, but not unheard of at my age. And my brain is turning to MUSH. Argh!!! I hate this almost as much as the crinkles on my neck and (shall we say) derriere!

Ick, ick ick. I like being on top of things. This is falling behind. Ick. Where did my brain GO anyway?

I coach a lot of women who ask me that question. Between our hormones bouncing all over the place and the steady progression of memories that DON’T light the corners of our minds, it makes sense.

So the answer is: yes and no.

Yes, it seems as if I forget where I left my shoes more frequently (I’ve been known to ransack the house at the last minute only to find them right beside the door!). And it seems that I need my ADD meds more than ever.

But the truth is that everyone our age is dealing with ADD-ish tendencies, simply because that’s what happens to our brains and neurology as we reach "that certain age."  When you already have the real McCoy ADHD, an extra helping intensifies the effects.

Harvard Medical School says that many, many boomer-generation folks like us are rushing to psychiatrists and neurologists to see if our secret fears are confirmed: that we are losing our minds!   Fortunately, even with a family history of dementia or Alzheimer’s, most of us are just dealing with a slowdown in processing.

Harvard Medical School reports that our memories (with or without ADD) are more difficult to access when we are over 50. It takes more time. If we give ourselves a minute to be calm, the word or the name or the location of those darned shoes will likely return.

Our memory mechanisms aren’t like a file cabinet, as doctors once believed.  We don’t store our memories in a tidy brain compartment, then pull them back our again when we need them.

Memories are stored in locations all over the brain, because we collect memories from many different sensory points. You store memories of the county fair with the sights of the Midway, the smell of cotton candy and funnel cakes and the physical excitement of spinning on the Tilt-a-Whirl. Memories are stored in those smell, sight, physical sensation areas of your brain. When you remember the county fair, your brain has to pull the correct memories from all those centers to recreate your previous experience of the county fair.

There’s bad news out there about memories: recent research shows that our memories are altered slightly each time we retrieve them (fascinating! scary!). An experiment conducted soon after the attacks on September 11, 2001 showed that people interviewed immediately after the event and again six weeks later did NOT tell their story consistently.

There were major differences in their recounting of the incident and they SWORE that they were telling the exact sequence and events in the second interview as in the first!

Our brains play tricks on us. We can’t trust them. Whether they are ADD brains or not.

So if you think your ADD is getting worse with age, it may be that everyone else in our age bracket is discovering their own ADD-ish tendencies. Relax. Take a breath. Let your brain have half a second to remember the name of your dentist. And you’ll be just fine.

Darn it, anyway!

I swear I used to have a memory. But now my memory is just … well, a memory.

Honestly, I thought menopausal madness had come and gone for me (in two weeks I’ll be – gulp! – 57 – gulp! again).

But today I saw my favorite sweater come out of the washing machine – the sweater I DON"T want to wash.

Ever.

I cringed. Then I bravely said something like "I would really prefer that my pink sweater isn’t washed in the machine." And Janine, my faithful assistant said, with a look of complete astonishment, "But you just handed it to me!"

I DID? HUH?

I have absolutely NO memory of handing her the sweater, even taking OFF the sweater. I am freaking OUT here.

It was literally 20 minutes ago and I cannot bring back any trace of that event. I remember thinking "I don’t want to wash this." I even put it at the back of the closet so it wouldn’t get washed. How in the heck did it get from the closet to the laundry room without me noticing?? Especially if I actually handed it to Janine.

Whose life am I living anyway??

I miss my memory.

If I could remember where I left it, I’d like to have it back.

Now what was I talking about?

I was sifting through my blog posts this morning to readjust the tags and do a little blog housekeeping when I found several entries that were marked "Draft." That means I created the post but haven’t finished it, so it sits there, unpublished, until I get back to it. Sometimes I start another post that is better than the first so I delete the first one.

One of these "draft" posts was marked "completion."

Guess what?

There was nothing in it! Not complete. Not even begun.

I deleted it. Ah, ADD!