In the Company of Another

I wrote this poem in January 2001, having no idea I had ADD.  Reading it now – knowing this mutant power lives inside me, I realize how insane I was feeling.  Any of you ADDers feel like this?  What do you do about relieving these feelings?  

People say all the time I’m this or I’m that 

Some want my blessing for some it’s tit for tat

Or maybe just to fill some God-shaped void

 

I turn a deaf ear past the shallow affection

So they give up fighting for my attention

They think it’s too hard, the price too steep

It’s not hard to find, but not easy to keep

 

I’m not looking for love

I’m looking for forever

I’m fine if I don’t find it ‘cause

What’s worse than being alone

In the company of another

 

I’m sorry I gave you a ring

I didn’t mean to bug you

It’s ok, know talk’s not your thing

just wondering how you’re doing

Thanks for your time I’ll see you around

Maybe next time if I’m back in town

 

As I wait at the stop opportunities past me by

Like buses headed to places other people wanna try

Thanks for stopping but I’m not getting on

I’m just gonna wait for the right one to come along

 

I’m not looking for love

I’m searching for forever

If I don’t find it that’s okay ‘cause

What’s worse than being alone

In the company of another

 

Is the price of waiting worth all the pain

Just for someone to ride my train

Looking for connection, the comfort of being

Why is the simple life so excruciating?

 

I’m not searching for love

I’m waiting for forever

I’m fine if I don’t find it

What’s worse than feeling alone

In the company of another

Under The Bridge

Being ADHD in a town that can be so NOT ADHD friendly is rough on the knees. This could be an ADD theme song. I dedicate this to my therapist and coach, KK.

UNDER THE BRIDGE – Red Hot Chili Peppers

Sometimes I feel
Like I dont have a partner
Sometimes I feel
Like my only friend
Is the city I live in
The city of angel
Lonely as I am
Together we cry

I drive on her streets
cause shes my companion
I walk through her hills
cause she knows who I am
She sees my good deeds
And she kisses me windy
I never worry
Now that is a lie

I dont ever want to feel
Like I did that day
Take me to the place I love
Take me all the way

Its hard to believe
That theres nobody out there
Its hard to believe
That Im all alone
At least I have her love
The city she loves me
Lonely as I am
Together we cry

I dont ever want to feel
Like I did that day
Take me to the place I love
Take me all the way

Under the bridge downtown
Is where I drew some blood
Under the bridge downtown
I could not get enough
Under the bridge downtown
Forgot about my love
Under the bridge downtown
I gave my life away

Hi God – I hope you read blogs…

… because I’m pretty sure you haven’t been answering my prayers. Quick question — why didn’t you tell me I had ADD until just now? If you were that busy, could you have told someone else to tell me? ‘Cause here’s the deal: for almost four decades, I thought my head space was merely the result of the complete lack of love in the family. I’ve honed coping mechanisms and chased stuff I thought were keeping me even keel to compensate for that void. Somehow, I’ve managed to piss off practically every single person I’ve ever met because of my big mouth. I’ve kept friends that enabled my behavior but didn’t enhance my life. I’m surrounded by the massive clutter of half-finished projects that looked so promising when I first conjured them up. I do admit, I’ve always had pretty great sex and embarked on some crazy adventures, like that fetish party in Malibu and spending all my money traveling on a whim, so that’s cool. But you know what? Because I was literally out of my mind, I lost the love my life, a woman who was my best friend. I wanted to marry her. Now she doesn’t want anything to do with me.  IT”S NOT MY FAULT!

All because I was blessed with a special blend of ADD. Mixed in with a family support system that expressed very little love.  I feel fucked in the ADD. 

So now, I have to start all over again and re-learn my social skills and basic approach to life. It’s a bummer.

As you know, I pay someone to listen to me once a week, because normal people have little idea what I’m going on about most of the time. It really sucks to only be able to talk to a confidante for forty five minutes a week.

Please don’t give me that crap about “it’s all part of the journey,” mister. It hasn’t been a journey. It’s been a damn endless spiral. I’ve been chasing everything. I thought I was cool and eccentric. Turns out I’m socially retarded. Thank God (that’s you) for the Vyvanse. At least it’s severely reduced my porn intake. And I’m not chasing the girls. But it is turning me into a Stepford Wife.

I have an idea, but please, take this with a grain of salt, because I don’t know if it’s the ADD talking, but if I have to start all over, could I start over as a baby again? This particular social experiment of yours is failing. Miserably.

And stop telling me, “Try to be positive — at least you don’t have irritable bowel syndrome.” That’s not helping.