I Have ADD

I'm not being funny or ironic. I officially have it; professionally diagnosed. I take medication for it. I am sharing in this forum with a small audience in mind. Maybe this will be helpful to them. If it is of interest to others, bonus.

I don't really love talking about it. Of all the mental health problems out there, I feel like my ADD probably has the least stigma, yet it totally has a stigma. Such as when a potential employer, upon learning that I take medication, said to me, "We don't hire people like that." Or, less seriously, but still not awesome, when people casually comment about how ADD is a made up thing.

On that point, for the sake of conversation, let me concede that it is a "made up" thing. That said, college is a made up thing. Sitting in a classroom for eight hours a day as a child is a made up thing. Placement tests are made up things. Personality screens used by employers are made up things. All of those made up things systematically work against people who have brains that work like mine. So when I get diagnosed with "made up" ADD, and I can take medication that allows me to pass those screening tests and become gainfully employed, I am thankful. So I don't even care if it's made up. The diagnosis describes me accurately and the treatment is effective.

Seeking professional help, even if a formal diagnosis does not follow, is not a sign of moral weakness. Accepting a diagnosis, including the taking of medication, is not giving up.

Of all the books I've read in trying to understand my own condition and other issues in my family, I like The Explosive Child the best. The prescribed solutions are not even as useful as the underlying premise of the book: That we all want to be good and useful to society, just some of us are unable without extra help. It is so charitable. And really it applies to all of us, not just those with problems that put us on one spectrum or another. We all have difficulties we are trying to overcome.

Finally, to my fellow ADD afflicted, and those married to such, I recommend Brandi Carlile:

I am a sturdy soul
And there ain't no shame
In lying down in the bed you've made
Can you fight the urge to run for another day?
You might make it further if you learn to stay

National Lampoon's Subic Vacation

We wanted to get out of the city for a few days. Manila is a massive concrete jungle and with the baby, we hadn't yet had a chance to get to any of the world famous beaches of the Philippines.

All the top rated beaches, even though still in the same country, require either a boat or a plane ride from Manila. With the baby, we were hoping for just a reasonable road trip for our first time out. For various reasons, I had procrastinated the reservations. So the main resorts were all booked up. Thus, I looked for a house through Airbnb.

Based on conversations overheard here and there, I had Subic Bay in my head as a reasonable place to go within a few hours drive of Metro Manila. I booked a house that looked nice online and we headed out. Upon later reflection, I was able to recall that those overheard conversations said only that Subic Bay was "a place" that a person "could go." No actual recommendations.

The drive was  nice. No problems there. As we rounded a corner and made the final descent over the hills and into the bay, I started having my first apprehensions. We could finally see the water, and it was full of massive tankers.

We rounded another corner and were greeted by the sign: "Welcome to Olongapo Home of the Most Beautiful Women in the World." At first we found this charming. Before long, I was realizing less virtuous reasons a town might label itself thus. Think Bourbon Street, but less classy and totally impoverished.

We pulled in to our neighborhood and Katie just started laughing and saying, "It will be fine. It's totally fine. This is an adventure. This will be fine." Imagine that being said in a kind of hysterical, Shutter Island sort of way. If you've seen any films by Eli Roth, you should be able to imagine the neighborhood perfectly.

Our house was indeed nice. Once inside, it was totally nice. Our hosts met us. They were kind. They made some recommendations. The kids, very good sports, were eager to get to the beach. So we quickly settled in and then reloaded the car in beach mode and headed out.

At the beach, my pattern recognition radar sent up immediate warnings, but it took a few minutes to process and act. There were no families at this beach. There were no children, except mine. Up and down the beach there were middle-aged (and older) white males and young native females. No families. Huh, that's weird.

There was a party barge about 50 yards out in the water with a restaurant on it. My kids were just getting into the water near the barge when Katie asked me how they might flush the toilet on the barge. Indeed, I could see the barge had a bathroom. So I walked to the water and told the kids that the barge might be discarding human waste so let's move away and please, don't put your heads under water.

That's when I noticed that the water was black and viscous. I pondered that for a moment as we walked down the beach away from the barge. The kids got back in the water. I saw a sewage drain from a beachside hotel draining directly onto the beach, the sludge being absorbed by the sand. I looked down the beach from that sight and saw that the sub-sand sludge would be entering the bay exactly where my kids were swimming.

So I did a Google search on my phone of "can you swim in Subic Bay." When the results came up, I ran to the kids yelling, "Out! Everyone out right now!"

Oh, Internet. You only find what you Google for.

On the bright side, when we returned to our rented house, we discovered Settlers of Katan as the first board game the entire family loves to play together with minimal fighting. So that's a major win, frankly.

Next day, we tried a nearby water park in order to enjoy water while avoiding the bay. We were almost literally the only ones there. It was like one of those post-apocolypse movie scenes at the abondanded amusement park.

Here is the view from the top of the water slide ladder:

We enjoyed the slides. I still told them to keep their heads above water and mouths shut tight. We enjoyed the clean private beach area.

Here you can see the local kids, wearing their school uniforms, sitting on top of the rock watching my kids in the wave pool.

The kayak ride in the bay, below, ended it for me. It was a clear kayak, meaning I could see below. As I paddled through and over garbage, I just couldn't take it. We returned, earlier than planned, to Metro Manila.