Brian Robinson - Adderall Blues

Praise for Adderall Blues

Finally! A blunt but objective book that debunks ADHD labels and exposes the unfortunate and limiting ways in which societal norms inhibit brilliance. Mr. Robinsons journey of interrupted genius is a first and important step toward a much-needed societal shift in which learning disabilities are celebrated...not diagnosed

Dr. Peter J. McDonald, PhD. (Educational Policy)

A wonderful, in-your-face book relating one young persons struggles with Attention Deficit Disorder...

Dr. Ned Hallowell M.D., Harvard Medicine and Author of Driven to Distraction

Brian Robinson poignantly exposes the flaws in our current educational philosophy and challenges us to rethink ADHD as a cure for slowed innovation rather than an illness in need of taming.

Damian Brenes Dominguez, Founder Spil Creative, Inc.

Brian has captured, without exception, the frustration and incite into the world of attention deficit disorder. His stories are relatable. I commend his writing skills and purpose.

Dr. Samuel Schenker, MD (Neurologist)

Adderall Blues tells an engaging tale of a young man finding his way in the world while learning about himself and his ADHD. Robinsons story is an important lesson in understanding how to unlock the potential of young people, especially those diagnosed with attention deficit disorders.

A. Corcoran (Former Educator, Master of Public Policy)

The chronicals of Brians life events are so captivating and intense that I couldnt put the book down. Eye opening and an emotional roller coaster. This story will encourage more people with ADHD, who likely have similar feelings about Adderall, to share their story to raise awareness of the issues Brian posits.

Nicole Stokes- Published Research Scientist, Regeneron Pharmaceuticals

A much needed memoir to highlight a crucial topic in todays society. Mr. Robinsons story is witty, engaging, humorous and thought-provoking; a bold confession that brings to the forefront a struggle that so many people deal with on a daily basis. This is a must read for anyone whos life may have been touched by ADHD or other learning disabilities.

Dr. Rama Ayyala, MD, Columbia University Medical Center

This refreshingly honest account of living with ADHD reframes both the struggles and gifts that come along with this stigmatized diagnosis. A passionate reminder of the need for our education system to nurture the unique mind of each student and warns us about the far-reaching dangers of forcing conformity in the classroom.

Pamela Mendelsohn, LMSW

Adderall Blues

By Brian J. Robinson

Adderall Blues
by Brian J. Robinson

Copyright 2017 Brian J. Robinson

ISBN 978-1-63393-431-3

All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form or by any means electronic, mechanical, photocopy, recording, or any other except for brief quotations in printed reviews, without the prior written permission of the author.

Published by

210 60th Street

Virginia Beach, VA 23451

800-435-4811

www.koehlerbooks.com

Chapter 1

Dead End

It occurred to me, like a spontaneous lightning bolt of neuro-stimulative ambition, that it was time to write my book. I know what you are thinking. I have absolutely no business writing a book, especially something autobiographical in nature. Stories about ones self are reserved for sports heroes, influential historical figures, and celebrities. I fit none of the above categories.

I am a Jewish twenty-three-year-old from an upper-middle-class, suburban family who fell into the world of finance. Quite typical, you might say. White-collar bred and white-collar destined. And sure, I would even agree with you, except for one thing: Absolutely nothing about the twenty-three years inside this head of mine has been the least bit ordinary. I have come to realize that my experiences and my perspective on the world are representative of what a childhood ADHD diagnosis might very well explain.

Though I never put much thought into that branding until now.

I always knew that I had a tendency to see things differently from others, or as some refer to them, the Neurotypicals. My earliest memory is a lucid visual of my father smiling with love in his eyes as he picked me up out of my crib. I was crying and must have been age two at the time. Looking back, I knew, even then, that if there was one person I would be able to count on in this world, one person who would love and stand by me no matter what, it would be my father. If not for the careful consideration and undying faith that both he and, to an equal degree, my mother have shown me throughout the years, especially when I was a young child, the outcome of my life after that could very well be drastically different.

We lived in Toms River, New Jersey, home of the 1998 Little League World Series Champions, from 1985 to 1990. Apparently, my crying pleas for freedom from the barred cage that was my crib transformed into violent statements of protest where I would shake the entire structure until it fell over. Later, I would just climb out, as it seemed a bit more sensible.

If nothing else, Toms River taught me to be physically tough at an early age. The kids in and around Foothill Court were rough. Besides Timmy Williamson, I was the youngest on the cul-de-sac, roughhousing and playing kickball until the sun came down. Brian Williamson was my best friend at the time and his kid brother, Timmy, would march behind us wherever Brian and I went.

It is truly amazing to me how the universe really is tied together by the most delicate and transparent of forces, like ever-shifting layers of indistinguishable energy. Most people do not think twice about the power and magnitude of the energy that encompasses our existence. Our introduction to these matters is taught in school, or so I am told. Looking back, I realize I never heard a word that was said to me there. From kindergarten through college, most of what was addressed to me in the form of spoken language was as foreign as the Mandarin I would encounter in Shanghai.

It is like watching a big-screen HD TV with the most technologically progressive picture clarity money can buy. This imaginary TV magnifies perceptions of the big picture to even further degrees of intensity, all the while reducing the sound quality to mere vibrations. Luckily, when I am in tune, these sound vibrations synthesize themselves into visual images. Sound must be converted to pictures for me to process, in my own way, what someone is saying. It is like having a screen in my minds eye.

Welcome to my custom IMAX theatre, where the shiny buttered popcorn and Junior Mints are plentiful and Albert Einstein and the rest of the spatially inclined autistics enjoy VIP seating and always share a good laugh. Of course, we get a younger following as well, especially around report card time, where a D average in school is rewarded with a free Coke and a daytime matinee on the house. It is the least that can be done after a full marking period of trying to fit ourselves into an educational system designed for the masses, or in mathematical terms, the distribution of individuals closest to the mean. Is it really any wonder why mathematical and scientific leadership is deteriorating in this country? Some of the most brilliant scientific thinkers, the visual thinkers whose thought processes are innately universal and capable of a different type of creative abstraction, the type of thinking that is necessary for scientific innovation, are falling through the cracks of the educational system, having never been given a shot to explore their expansive minds. Albert Einstein, who is also known to think in pictures, was at one point a high-school dropout who struggled enormously with his education.