I Was a Ritalin Baby — Part Two: I Missed All the Memos

When ADHD Isn’t Treated, Chaos Ensues

You can read Part One here.

At age 2, I drank a bottle of shampoo, a bottle of aftershave, and shortly thereafter, tried to burn down the house.

Then, I started taking Ritalin.

In 1970, I was loosely diagnosed with ADHD, Attention Deficit-Hyperactivity Disorder, and prescribed a daily dose of the little yellow pill. I begrudgingly ate one tablet a day, in a spoonful of apple sauce, until I was 8 years old.

During those medicated years, my grades and creativity excelled, and I was considered gifted and talented.

When puberty hit. We moved from Connecticut to Texas, and I started getting bullied, and my self-esteem tossed itself in the trash. I became depressed.

The combination of ADHD and depression took my concentration to an all-time low. For the remainder of my school years and into my early 20s, my grades and my life suffered.

When I think back on how many times I was embarrassed in class, I want to puke. I sat at my desk attentively, watched the teacher teach, but didn’t absorb any of the information. The teacher would start calling on students to problem solve, and I’d sink as low as I could to avoid being…