Overloads

When it comes to Western medicine's ability to diagnose mental disorders, I'm not particularly impressed. Most of my adult life, I've known people who have been treated for diagnoses including depression, anxiety, bipolar, ADD, ADHD, and so on.

Those are the people who sought help and advice. But the people who assumed they were "sane" and didn't need help or advice often seemed in fact to be the most troubled ones, in my view.

Over time, the "disorganization" aspect of ADD/ADHD intrigued me. And the "above-normal levels of hyperactive and impulsive behaviors" part.

These "illnesses" have become more prevalent during my lifetime, if you trust the published statistics, and might be considered rampant in certain communities.

Meanwhile, in our work environments, what used to be a predictable, repetitive routine in most jobs has been displaced by the need for multi-tasking. Disorganization has happened  I've watched several generations of people cope with this development in disparate ways.

Many complain, but others have embraced the new reality, which seems due as much to technological developments as any other factor. I am one of those who enjoy multi-tasking; in fact it brings me comfort and joy.

Juggling email, writing, meetings, coffee, unexpected encounters, making payments, sorting papers, programming my fantasy baseball lineup, reading the latest on a list-serve, checking the website, talking to my kids, eating whatever, keeping the TV news in view (maybe on mute), thinking about which movie I'll watch tonight and on and on suits my personality just fine.

I certainly don't miss the old days, the boring days before the Internet turned that world upside down.

Therapist visits can be uncomfortable events; couples therapy must be one of the hardest types for counselors. One counselor labeled my partner and me "lovable neurotics" -- I kind of liked that diagnosis.

This morning, I sat for a long time unable to think of anything to write. That is not my favorite kind of. moment.

It's not like there aren't plenty of topics. The peaceful demonstrations and the violent riots continue, the arrests continue, the political rhetoric continues. There are reports that perhaps 30 percent of the Covid-19 deaths so far have occurred in nursing homes.

As a cooped-up population tries to process all of these inputs, an overload button lights up inside some of us. Suddenly it struck me: I knew what kind of movie to watch and I knew what to write about.

If it's me reading the signs, we are in a whole lot of trouble here. The collective insanity of this moment is much more frightening than the individual kind. There are medications for individuals; how effective they are is up for debate.

But the collective breakdown may prove less treatable. The "opiate of the masses" may not help in this case. This kind of story really needs a happy ending.

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