Yes, I take ADHD medication. No, you can't have any. (Part 1/2)

One of the most ironic issues with taking medication for ADHD is that I forget to pick up my ADHD medication because of my aforementioned ADHD. With my other medications, such as my anti-depressants, I am able to have them delivered to my mailbox with little to no hassle. However, because my Concerta and Ritalin are controlled substances, AKA they're intense uppers for the Neurotypical individual, I have to jump through hoops to get my daily meds.

I have to remember to email the doctor to prescribe the medication. Following which I have to remember to go to the pharmacy when it is open and make sure my prescriptions are called into the right location. And sometimes the pharmacy won't have the medication in stock, because it is a controlled substance, or I will forget to check a certain box on the psychiatrist's site and the whole process starts over again.

I will admit I have never been outright asked for my medication. I know it happens, especially around finals week, but I make a point to surround myself with people who aren't into that. That being said, two events/encounters in the past week have led to my frustration with this culture around ADHD and college and the implicit suspicion that I am actually normal.






Pharmacy Troubles 

I went to pick up my medications yesterday, increasingly frustrated with the pharmacy staff because they claimed they had no record of this medication on file. I've been dealing with this pharmacy for a while, a small mom and pop type of place in the village that specializes in having no idea what you are talking about and creating the anxiety that your anxiety medication is supposed to be taken for.

After multiple explanations of my needs, including pulling up a confirmation of my prescription and the fact it was sent it, the pharmacist working on staff called my psychiatrist and left a message. About an hour later, I heard back from my doctor that I had accidentally ordered the pickup to a pharmacy in San Rafael and now there would be a transfer delay and work and stress. Because I will run out of medication before I can see my parents for Thanksgiving, I had to deal with this situation on my own.

I felt like a failure. It was awful. I ate lunch in the village with tears in my eyes. I felt like a little kid again, someone who needed her mommy and daddy to book her doctor's appointments because she can't handle this responsibility. It was a spiraling moment, sure, but a moment I am all too familiar with-- feeling my brain's deficits in executive functioning are a result of my failings. Feeling as though this is a personality flaw, and not a treatable diagnosis.

Oh, and to top it all off, the pharmacy didn't even have one of the medications in stock. I tried my very best to explain calmly that yes, I do have two prescriptions for the same medication. They are different doses, and they serve different functions. I was still met with that all too familiar look from the 20 somethings working there: you don't deserve this medication. I am judging you for taking this, and I am doubting that you need it.

Honestly, I can't entirely blame them. They are dolling out stimulant medication in a college town with wealthy students and academic rigor. Which brings me to my next post, part 2/2

I don't want to overwhelm you with information. Trust me, I know what that's like.

From strength to strength,

Rivi