One Man, under the Influence

Back in the late ’90s, during my previous career in publishing, I wrote a number of reference books for adolescents on health and science topics. Books like these are commonly written not by subject-matter experts but instead by professional authors (freelancers like myself at the time) who are adept at distilling current research into a product that will engage the target audience.

One of these, Marijuana and Your Lungs: The Incredibly Disgusting Story, came out of storage recently when I received an email condemning it as “bogus” and asserting that “hopefully in the past 11 years you have realized how great this herb actually is.”

Well, no, I have not decided in the last 11 years that marijuana is great. Instead, I created a consulting business, went back to school for a second master’s degree, became a licensed counselor, and expanded my business into a counseling practice–all, in my opinion, incompatible with an affection for the wacky tobaccy.

By the way, my favorite class in counseling school, Psychopharmacology, did nothing to support the herb in question. In fact the most interesting thing I learned in that class is that marijuana is a hallucinogen, not a depressant or “downer” as most people think. It alters the user’s perception of reality. For some people it’s a pleasant experience; for others it’s not. It depends on your individual brain chemistry.

What Blew His Buzz?

I reread my own book to try to discern what had so offended this person. Did I get facts wrong? (No, the data were accurate at the time of publication; some are outdated now.) Was my tone inappropriate? (No, not for the adolescent audience it was written for and within the context of the “Incredibly Disgusting” series, the point of which was to dissuade children from doing drugs.) My correspondent concluded, “The world would be such a better place if everyone just got high all the time.”

As the kids say these days: Seriously?

OK, I’ll indulge this idea for a moment–long enough to explain what’s wrong with it. As mentioned above, each brain experiences pot (or any drug) differently. Not everyone gets “high” as in euphoric, harmless, and lovingly supportive of all fellow living creatures. Some people get paranoid, or terrified, or agitated. And you can’t tell who will be which. It can even change from day to day for the same person.

People are temperamental and triggery enough as it is. Giving everyone a drug that causes even more variance in their cognitive and emotional stability and behavioral predictability, not to mention reaction time and wakefulness, would be an act of bioterrorism, not the dawning of the Age of Aquarius.

One Is the Loneliest Number

I think I understand what upset my correspondent. He believes that marijuana has improved his life, and he is offended at categorical condemnations of his cannabinoid helpmate. Perhaps his brain chemistry is such that he really does function better with weed onboard. I suppose it’s possible, albeit rare. It’s also possible for a person to have natural resistance to HIV or snake venom, but attempting to find out via exposure is, hello, discouraged.

Legal drugs are put through extensive research to try to make people’s reactions as predictable as possible. And despite that, unpleasant, sometimes fatal surprises happen. You can’t know with certainty how any one brain will react to the most heavily studied, tried-and-true psych med, so you certainly can’t predict how your brain will react to something someone passes you at a party.

And therein lies the mistake you’re making, dear correspondent. You are what we call an n of 1, a single-subject sample, and you’re trying to extrapolate humanity-wide advice from your individual, personal experience. As a research technique, your method is unsupportable, and beyond that your results are refuted by many scientifically sound studies with ns far larger than yours.

In positioning yourself as the Pied Piper of Pot, you’re encouraging people (even kids, since you oppose my book) to play Russian roulette with their brain chemistry.

Dude. Not cool.

 

Naked ADD

AD/HD, or just ADD as it’s often called by those who have it or treat it, is one of those conditions that causes people embarrassment or shame until they learn to accept it, work around it when necessary, and even find its hidden advantages. People with ADD learn, through often painful experience, to mask it when they’re among non-ADDers–to try not to fidget, interrupt, talk too much, talk too little, or forget things.

Tall order, and exhausting.

Which makes ADD-focused events such a treat. CHADD chapter meetings, annual events like the Michael Golds Memorial AD/HD Conference–these are places where it’s safe to let your ADD show, kind of like taking off your clothes at a nude beach. Nobody will point and laugh, or judge, or act superior, because everyone is equally, and voluntarily, exposed. When people who have it, treat it, or otherwise accept ADD get together in a group, the fun aspects can come out: spontaneity, flights of creative thought, exuberance, fresh ideas, witticisms … conversations that sound more like improvisational jazz than the orchestrated exchanges typical in the wider world. People don’t have to apologize or take offense for talking over each other; it’s not rudeness, it’s just ADD.

The normalizing, confidence-building parts come out too: Stories of things forgotten, things said and regretted, opportunities missed, feelings hurt … confessions that are most often met with “That’s happened to you TOO???” No one is “the only one” at these events. Then the stage is set for sharing ideas for managing the condition (tricks for being on time, getting your to-dos done, under-promising and over-delivering, deciding whether to use meds) and advocating for your needs and rights.

Over the past decade or so, there has been an increase in the number of adults diagnosed with ADD. Many of them come to suspect it when their children are diagnosed and they realize that they themselves had (and often still have) the same symptoms. The diagnosis can be life-changing: You see your entire life in a new light. Sometimes there is grief–”If only I had known this back then…”–and often there is relief, like the book title says: “You mean I’m not lazy, stupid, or crazy?” And there are many more great books and websites on the subject, offering the newly diagnosed adult a wealth of comforting perspective.

I help my clients with AD/HD to integrate this reality into their self-image, understand how their brains work, and find the organizational techniques that will best serve them as they learn how to manage its challenges without losing its creative and motivational blessings. Along with all of that, I encourage them to join their peer community–their neurochemical soulmates, you could say–and soak up some much-needed acceptance and support.

And since I do all of that, I get to share in the revelry at ADD events. As Katharine Graham said, “To love what you do and feel that it matters–how could anything be more fun?”

 

Brains Explained

Just found this amazingly useful site: http://thebrain.mcgill.ca/flash/index_a.html, affiliated with the Canadian Institutes of Health Research’s Institute of Neurosciences, Mental Health and Addiction.

Got brain questions? They’ve got the answers, at beginner, intermediate, and advanced levels, with detailed graphics, guided tours, and more. If you’re a neuroscience geek like me, or if you just want to understand exactly what depression or anxiety does in your brain, here’s your source.

 

Going Around It

You’ve probably heard the platitude that says if you can’t get over a problem, go around it, under it, through it, etc.–the point is to try a different solution. This is on my mind today because of a program called One Hundred Pushups. I ran across it on the web last weekend and decided it offers just the right balance of challenge and possibility, so I started it on Sunday. In the two sessions I’ve done so far, I’ve received an unexpected delight: the “runner’s high.”

Here’s a perfect example of barking up the wrong tree. For years now, I’ve been so wrapped up in trying to make other people’s fitness experiences true for me that I failed to give credence to other options. I’ve been trying to achieve that fabled endorphin rush from cardio, and it just doesn’t happen. I don’t feel good after aerobic exercise–accomplished, perhaps, which is a cognitive state, but not physiologically good. After a few pushups, it’s the opposite: Cognitively, I’m chagrined at how few I can do, but I don’t really care because I’m enjoying that runner’s (pusher-upper’s?) high. I’ll do more in two days, and even more next week, and eventually I’ll be able to do 100 pushups … and I know I’ll be doing it not for the accomplishment but for the flood of happy brain chemicals each set gives me.

What problem could you be going around instead of through? What other trees could you try barking up? And, is there a way you could actually enjoy doing some particular thing that you must do? Would a different approach make the problem more solvable?

Here’s a final insight (perhaps this set me up to see the promise in One Hundred Pushups): I was in Austin, Texas, the weekend before last and I saw a climbing wall in a park with a sign offering this profound hint: Don’t go up, go around. Use the foot- and handholds to work your way around the wall toward the top, rather than trying to go straight up with sheer strength. It might be slower, but it also might be the difference between success and failure.