LETTER FROM AN ACTIVE MEMBER

Firstly Adele, I must say again thank you for giving me another insight into the ebb and tide in the life of a young AD/HD "sufferer".  I guess we then relate this further to our adult life where these same problems seem to follow us.  I use the "us" liberally because as you know I have not been diagnosed yet, but MANY do suspect, and we here at the Rowie’s believe, that with my son’s actions mirroring my own, it would be hard to dispute.

Thinking about your articles long after reading them stirred many feelings deep within this jokesters hidden past.  With all the story telling, the corner turning, the dodging and weaving, we get these eye openers that burst into our mind, that knock us clear off our feet.  Normally, the AD/HD people among us would shake our collective heads, look around, and mostly get up and keep on going as if it never happened.

We all suffer with the very frustrating short term memory problems, and the simple task of just remembering what the hell we were doing 5 minutes ago let alone a week ago, so the long term memories often also get misplaced.  We seem to file them into a very strange order, like we do with most things in life.

I think the thing I felt I needed to do mostly here was, I guess, to try to put a few lines down to maybe help others understand a little bit more about the loneliness, frustration and the blackness that we do get into, but also to help me understand myself, which is as hard for me as it is for others.

The strange thing is the clarity of the memory flashes that I get, the vibrant color, the smells, the pain.  It all seems so real. It feels like a year of experience all over again in the blink of an eye. This is possibly why these memory flashes knock us off the axis that our world revolves upon.

At this point I would like to pass on a brief history, I will be brief, of my journey to "here".  It is hard to say when I actually physically left school as I don't think I was ever really there. I had quite a team of horses by the time I was 12, and I started droving when I was 14, showing up for school occasionally, only to get into trouble for either not paying attention or daydreaming.  I had constant remedial classes for handwriting, which is still atrocious.

By the age of 15 I had a business making and selling custom riding saddles and leather goods.  From there, as a slight contrast, I started an apprenticeship as a fitter in an iron foundry, again always getting into trouble for being late or forgetting things that needed doing, but always working late, day and night without care.

While I was doing this I started my Ass.Dip. in Mechanical Eng. and also Electrical Eng.  These were meant to be 12 year, part time courses. I (partially) completed both of them in 5 years.  I could never bring myself to complete the final "project" that was required.  My argument was, that as I was working in the field I should not be required to submit this work.  As you could guess we didn't see eye to eye on that one.

I then moved to mining engineering and hydraulic engineering, designing many carnival rides and mining equipment that is still in use today. As usual this all became boring and frustrating and in 1996 I started a computer repair business, much to the shocked surprise of my wife Kathy, who still today has no idea how I manage to run on 2 to 4 hours sleep each night, but we do push on.

Most of the wonderful and the painful memories of this journey are to this point lost, except when they shoot by my eyelids, triggered by a word, a sound, a smell or anything, or maybe even nothing.

Out of the dark today came the memory of the time I was struck in the corner of my left eye with a large sprinkler, when running between two portable buildings in my early primary school years.  I vividly remember being collected. I remember the pain. I remember being half carried into the sick bay office, and even now I remember how I laughed at the funny patterns my blood was leaving on the floor.  I remember the patterns as if it had just happened. Strangely enough I even remember the funny, blue gumboots the teacher was wearing at the time.

But still I cannot remember any of the jobs that I have done today, nor do I remember any of the jobs I had our technicians perform last week. This is a huge source of frustration for both Kathy and myself.

These are factors that I don't believe we can ever fully control, and as you said, when we say "I wont be long" don't hold your breath, we might not remember even having this conversation.

I thought I would enclose a small photograph that encompasses a need to escape, always running, always looking, needing to find that space............

 Shaun "Rowie" Rowe