emotionally i’m a celebrity

Emotionally I’m a celebrity” That’s a line from an Iggy Pop song, but I sorta love it and I think it’s a fair descriptor of how I feel sometimes – although, yes, I DO understand that ol’ Iggy is takin’ the piss over a generation of punk rockers who don’t understand punk rock.

Maybe it speaks to you, too.
Maybe it doesn’t, and I’m emotionally dysregulated… but are we not all the main characters in our own stories?

Once upon a time, they used to call artists, (and by extension, popular artists) (and also by extension, rich weirdos who were often popular artists beck before being ‘famous for being famous’ was a vocation) ‘eccentric.’ That’s a term I haven’t heard used in a long time; likely since medical science has come up with actual diagnoses for these disabilities.

Yes, disabilities – and that’s an important distinction.

These people who operated in these ways fell under the umbrella – or; nore accurately, were swept under the rug – of ‘eccentric‘ which was a catch-all term for ‘a little different but ultimately harmless‘ primarily because they saw beauty in things that their contemporaries didn’t. These folks were odd. They’d simultaneously procrastinate and fixate. They’d be uncredited authorities on obscure topics. They acted out sometimes… or became reclusive. They showed up late and left early. They wore sunglasses indoors and dressed differently. they were called ‘weird’ ‘gifted’ ‘wild’ and my personal favorite: ‘talented’. They flocked together. They had a hard time maintaining employment. They drove fast. They lived a high-risk lifestyle. And there were countless other symptoms… and unfortunately for those who lived their lives before these diagnoses were available – they self medicated their disabilities in lieu of actual help.

There’s that word again. Disabilities.

Anyway,
… all of those things are still true.
… and have been true for me along the way.

The importance of that distinction comes with some controversy within the community, I suppose, but I’m beginning to think that controversy is regional – as in, if you live in a place where there’s no government funded help available and you’ve received an adult diagnosis after developing your own coping methods over the course of your life – you probably don’t want to be labeled as a ‘disabled person.’

However; if you do live in a place where there’s government-funded help and tax breaks, that designation is probably a blessing.

But if you live in a place, as I do, where; although you were diagnosed as an adult, and have some (healthy) coping mechanisms (after dispelling your unhealthy ones on your own, the hard way), and the governing body in your region DOES provide help and support, but the current folks in power are actively trying to take money out of the pockets of disabled people, it’s a VERY important designation.

Me? Yeah, I’m ultimately fine. I made it this far, didn’t I?
I’m pretty high-functioning ADHD and ASD (AuDHD, technically).
But that doesn’t mean I have a spare $5,000.00 kicking around for testing (regardless of the outcome) as well as $150/month for medication and an untold fortune for ongoing therapy.

How about folks who are not quite so high-functioning?
Or folks who are dealing with a whole bunch more than I am?

These disability designations are crucial.

So my job… my role here… is to highlight the fact that these people are all around you. This is why I’ve decided to be open about this, and not to be embarrased about it.

Because April 2nd was World Autism Awareness Day… (and yes, the notion of posting this on a thursday was really problematic for me due to my Saturday morning ritual… and my… ASD… struggled with that) and there will be all kinds of cool information being posted and shared all month that I hope you will take in.

Thanks everyone.


The Iggy Pop quote is from the song Neo Punk, from his most recent album “Every Loser” which is a great record from front to back and the fact that he put out such a barn burner of an album at 75 years old should give you as much hope as it gives me.

Another line from that song is “my hair is blue, and my prescription, too” but both my prescription AND my hair are grey. Not joking.

thanks / embarrassment

Sometimes I write this thing, and I have absolutely no real concept of who’s readying it, or when. The hosting platform shows me a little number, but I don’t delve into that because I don’t really want to write for a specific audience. I’m not trying to grow a brand… well, not here, anyway.

There are people who read it every week. They let me know. I am deeply appreciative of it, and it makes me feel really good that after a few years of public journaling, that what I’m saying has some resonance…

But 2 weeks ago when I posted about my neurodivergent diagnoses, people really came out of the woodwork to let me know they had my back, or… brain… or… whatever they had, they were supporting me.

So, thank you very much. All of you.


Now for the ’embarrassment’ part.
No… I’m not embarrassed. Quite the opposite.

When I was younger, I used to think I wasn’t embarrassed easily. Actually, no… I thought you couldn’t embarrass me if you tried. While that’s probably still true, it’s conditional, because one of the tiny little things I’ve realized about myself is that I can be embarrassed very easily – just not through conventional means.

I fear no ridiculous karaoke song, no questionable stage attire, no public speaking event, no dirty joke, and I don’t subscribe to any ideologies or political views that will come back to bite me in any meaningful way… but I gotta say, being cool; or at least perceived as cool, is vitally mportant to me.

That probably sounds pretty dipshitty… but why would I lie about it now?

When I was a kid, I never felt cool. As a matter of fact, I was certain that I wasn’t. I was kind of a weird kid – I was very quiet, and I had a real hard time keeping up with other kids because I really felt like I didn’t belong anywhere… especially with kids my own age.

I went to a private christian school in Grade 1 & 2, and I was homeschooled in grade 3… and then when I was new to the Edmonton Public School system in grade 4, I got picked on. Maybe we all did, but it sure felt like I was the only one back then. So I did what I was supposed to do – I told a teacher. Allow me to tell you – and I would say it to any kid I meet who is dealing with the same thing – that was the worst fucking idea anyone ever had.

The school talked to the bully.
And they let me leave 5 minutes early to get a head start so I could get home… but within a couple days the bully came and found me and pushed me around.

I told the teacher again, and they called my dad.

In my eyes, my dad was all that is man.
He was a big strong guy who didn’t take any shit from anyone, and honestly he terrified me, because I was ULTRA timid and he worked shift work, which meant he was grumpy, and probably worried about money, though I wouldn’t know what that meant just yet.

I was so embarrassed.
I was so sure that my dad already thought I was a wimp, and if I had my way, I wouldn’t even be a blip on his radar most of the time… but he picked me up from school that day and he took me out for lunch to McDonald’s, which was a rare treat back then.

He instilled upon me that day that “REAL tough guys don’t start fights, but they ain’t afraid to end ’em” and that if you’re backed up against the wall, sometimes the only way out is to punch your way out.

Since then I’ve really only had to throw fists a couple times… but I remember consciously deciding at that point that I didn’t want to be the kind of person who gets pushed around ever again. I wanted to be the kind of person who – if someone saw you pushing me around, they’d think YOU were the asshole, and not worry about whether or not I was okay… because guys like ME are ALWAYS okay.

That’s a long way around the bend…but all that was to say that there’s a level of vulnerability around mental health diagnoses that’s required, and although I intuitively want to share and help destigmatize and demystify these things – it DOES kinda go against my laurels to open up that way.

So for me, I had to decide not to be embarrassed by it. I had to decide that it’s totally cool to be transparent about my neurodivergence and my challenges so that maybe some twerpy kid who’s as unsure of himself as I once was can look at me and my neurodivergent cohort and say “if he’s cool with it then I can be cool with it, too.”

Anyway… if you read all that, thanks again.

in the dark

Last week I opened up about my ADHD and ASD diagnoses… so you can go ahead and anticipate some neurodivergent talk here.

It’s a hell of a thing to get diagnoses like that as a 43 year old man.

The best way I can describe this is to say that metaphorically… I’ve been feeling around in the dark for a long time.
And sneezing… for decades.
So I’m just there… navigating through the dark, thinking I’m pretty good at it… and again: sneezing – but assuming that everyone is having the same sneezing problems as me… and nobody can see what’s really happening.
Then someone turns the light on.
And suddenly I realize that MOST of the people around me had flashlights.
And the room is FULL of cats.
And I’m sneezing… and I’m realizing that everyone could see fine except for me.
And I’m the only one allergic to cats.
And now it’s all coming together and making sense.

I’ve always been good at puzzles and games.
I’m good at most things I try to do, if I’m being honest.
But that’s partly due to (a) only trying things I know I’d be good at, and (b) not allowing myself to be bad at anything.

The kicker is that those Modus Operandi are actually defense mechanisms that are cleverly disguised as brilliance and ambition… or discipline.
Don’t get me wrong… ambition and aptitude are requirements, but I have to ask myself if any of these things are truly difficult.
Now… they are, generally VERY difficult, but I still have to ask.

I have tried things that I wasn’t good at right away. We all have. But I know what I’m capable of, because I’ve been in the driver’s seat of this body for 4 decades… so I can look at a thing I don’t know how to do and logically relate it to something else I enjoy.
Often there’s only a few degrees of separation.

For example – I have a 1962 Ford Fairlane that I work on and drive in the summer months. I have the aptitude and discipline for this. I am also a proficient guitar player who’s very picky about his electric guitar sound. So, it’s not a stretch to say that I might be good at building my own guitar distortion pedals… because I understand the construction and robust requirements of a metal box that gets stepped on for dramatic effect, and I know what sounds good. I just need to understand circuits…

… so I’m learning how t understand circuits.

Not to downplay this new hobby at all, because it’s very cool, and very fun, and very rewarding, and it is artisan work… but buying a bunch of tools and components was not a risk for me, because of course I’d be good at that.

Anyway… I clearly have more questions than answers.
I appreciate you reading this.

PS… I’m building guitars pedals now.

medicated

I’ve alluded to somethings that are going on in my life that I wasn’t quite prepared to talk about because I didn’t want to put the cart before the horse; so to speak, until I had an official diagnosis to lean on… and while the wheels are in motion as I am typing this, we’re still not quite there. But, I have enough to know that I am able to share.

I thought I’d know where to start, but I don’t… so I’ll just blurt it out and then backtrack, in true neurodivergent fashion.

I have ADHD (Attention Deficit Hyperactivity Disorder) and ASD (Autism Spectrum Disorder), and the reason I am able to talk openly about it now is because my doctor (whom I am so very fortunate to have in this province), who DOES have the credentials to make a formal diagnosis has confirmed as much. My doctor has opted not to give me the diagnosis; however, because in order to get access to the best mental health care in the region, my diagnosis has to come from a psychiatrist – to which I have been referred.

Now, I know a lot about health and wellness. If you’ve been reading this blog for a while, you likely know that I dropped 166 lbs pre-covid and kept it off, and have a number of accomplishments under my belt. I’ve learned how to keep myself out of the high-risk zones, statistically speaking;and when prodded, can be a great resource to others. I train hard to this day and am in excellent physical condition for any age, let alone the age I am.

I’ve also given out some free advice about various types of medications… particularly hear meds, blood pressure meds, and the like because I am living proof that diet and exercise can keep you out of the ICU. I have very proudly been able to say that I am a 40-something year old man and I take ZERO medications. Until now.

Now, I am on medication for ADHD, and it’s been a trip, I must say.

First off, the thought that I could be misconstrued and give people the impression that I had something valid to say about ALL medications absolutely guts me. I very well may have given that impression (though I know I never spoke to brain-drugs directly in public) and if that’s the case, then I sincerely apologize. I’ve never considered myself the arbiter of mental health, so I’m certain I never said anything SPECIFICLY about brain meds… but again… if misconstrued, I apologize.

Now that I’ve got that out of the way, I will say that my experience on these ADHD meds has been absolutely life changing. I can say that I’ve never been so present and in the moment (shy of being on-stage with my band) in my entire life. My workouts are better, my interactions with other people are better, I’m better at my job, and I believe my songwriting and performance of my instrument has improved with my enhanced focus and my ability to tune out distractions and just think about one thing a a time.

The only downside is that since my ADHD symptoms are more within my control than ever before – my Autism symptoms are on FULL display, and it’s been eye-opening to say the least. Obviously I’m functional, but there are heavy challenges, to be sure.

I’ll get more into that in the future. This post is long enough.

I’ll sign off by saying that I’m not looking for attention. If you know anything about ASD then you can be certain of that – but I’m happy to talk and share stories with people who are similarly afflicted or respectfully curious… but… y’know… through email is fine, lol…
maaaybe don’t go runnin’ up to me when you see me at the mall or the hardware store with earplugs and sunglasses on and unload on me with stories.
aaand as far as email goes… if you want to send me a big long email, please know that THOSE are hard to digest. Put the important parts in bold. Maybe use a few different colors.

Much love.