Adrenalin junkies should just try raising an ADHDer!
It’s just as risky I think- and they will never again feel the need to go BASE jumping, skydiving, gorge swinging, paragliding or cave diving. You all know what Adrenalin is right? And you all know why the extreme sportsmen do what they do right? Well, I couldn’t find anything referring to an overload specifically, but I’m pretty damn sure it’s possible!
I mean- if you overdose on drugs- they pump adrenalin straight into your heart (and yes I have seen Pulp Fiction). If your blood pressure is screwed- you get adrenalin to get your heart pumping!
So. Yesterday morning, I went to church with my granny darling, leaving Damien at home to sleep late and play PS2 when he woke up. He doesn‘t go to church with me at all anymore. I ask- he declines. I’m working on it.
When I got home around 1pm Damien was wide awake and his thumbs were attached to the PS2 controller- as I expected. . . but after a bit I suspected he hadn’t taken his meds. He said he had- but he has a way about him that makes me wonder. . . the insane giggling a’ la Dr Evil, the eating me out of house and home (and I’m talking three days groceries in one morning kind of eating) and driving the cats nuts are all a dead give away that he is un-medicated. And of course the instant temper tantrum should I question his integrity by saying I don’t think he’s had his meds is also a clear sign that he really didn’t take it. . .
So what happened to give me an adrenalin rush?
Well, it was about 9pm; and Damien was supposed to be asleep- but he was restless. Then it got quiet. I figured he was asleep and went to the bedroom to check on him like I do every night. He wasn’t asleep. He was standing at his window- sort of hidden behind his curtains and I just knew he was up to no good. Then I saw the flames. . . again. . .
Instant head rush, bunnies!
Heart pounding- sweating- tunnel vision!
I run to the kitchen for the watering can- cursing myself for still not having decent fire extinguishers in the house- and run back to Damien’s room. This took about ten seconds. . . and the flames are now on his window frame and on the sill outside!
I’m trying to ask what he’s burning and trying to get him out the way (because he doesn’t want me to see what he was doing) so I can put the fire out. As he says “nail polish remover” I pour- and then I curse because I know exactly what’s going to happen. . . the water carries the liquid and the flames off the window frame and down the wall. They disappear, and I make sure I can’t see any more flames before I go running out the door in panties and t-shirt to make sure there’s no fire beneath us (since we’re on the second floor)!!!
And then I did the worst thing I could have done, the same thing all of us do- I yelled! And I lectured! And then I yelled some more. Damien just disappeared under his duvet, muttering… you can imagine how much he actually heard of what I said.
And then I had to sit down before my legs caved in!
I spent the rest of the night creeping into the kitchen or standing in Damien’s doorway peering out the windows looking for a suspicious flickering glow from beneath our flat. . .
Maybe I should make him sleep in the lounge, and in my room where I can watch him, then I’ll even save money by renting a one bedroom place. . .
Anyone wanna take over here? I don’t wanna be an adrenalin junkie!