ADHD and the Healing Power of Plov

I don’t know why I wasn’t diagnosed with ADHD until I was in my 30s. Looking at my symptoms in conjunction with the number of psychiatrists I have seen in my life, someone should have caught on much, much earlier.

However, I think the bigger tragedy is embracing the wonders of ADHD meds and then moving to a country where stimulants are (understandably) banned. I know that the medicine can be extremely addictive; still, the whiplash from having Ritalin to going cold turkey is like a massive sinkhole opened up and swallowed my motivation and drive. And when you can’t accomplish anything on your to-do list, the dishes pile up, and you lose the will to go outside, of course, the depression creeps back in.

And the only cure for ADHD-induced depression is to act like you’re not depressed and power through your to-do list like slogging uphill through the Great Molasses Flood of 1919 (no disrespect to the 21 people and unnumbered horses and dogs that perished, RIP).

I have given myself the month to wallow, but that month ends tomorrow. It’s hard to believe I have been back in Uzbekistan for almost a month already. But one of my goals for this year was to actually post updates to my blog. Having only two posts last year–an unfinished series to boot–is embarrassing.

So, to dip my toe back into the water, here is a list of five things that make me really happy in Uzbekistan:

The Fellow Program. I can thank all my past jobs for helping me grow as a person, but I don’t think any job outside of working at the dog kennel really made me happy. The Fellow Program is what other jobs claim to be. It’s a family, but the kind of family that is healthy. That went to therapy. Every day, I connect with current and previous Fellows around the world and they keep me centered and filled with so much joy.
Public Transportation. Look, ya’ll, I am a consummate gearhead. I grew up around American muscle, German engineering, and Japanese fine-tuning. I got so comfortable on the back of a motorcycle as a kid that I could fall asleep, I started learning to drive a manual on the back roads at 14, my first car was a Porsche (calm down, it was a 1984 944), my last car was a Subaru WRX, and this summer, I got my motorcycle license. I would rather walk than drive an automatic transmission, and as much as I love Mother Nature, I’ll die on my hill of a gas-guzzling, turbo that requires premium.

That being said, I love the metro. It’s efficient, quick, clean, and you can pretend you’re surfing. The only thing I struggle with is that it’s untoward to smile at strangers in most countries. It does make me feel a little grumpy that I am not allowed to smile until I get to work and see people I know. But I get it, Americans’ insistence on smiling at everyone is strange.

Kindle Unlimited. Look. When I need to hibernate and hide from being sad, I read. Am I reading classy, mind-opening literature? Of course not. There’s honestly very little of that on KU, but I spent so much money on books in the past, that KU might actually give me a chance at saving for retirement. Please note, I have tried to keep Bezos out of my life (ya’ll know why), and even living in rural Arizona, I make like one or two Amazon orders a year, but Kindle has me in a death grip.
Fall. Uzbekistan is hot in summer. I love that we get here at the tail end of the heat so we can truly appreciate the changing of the season. In Arizona, it goes directly from summer to winter, but here, I can embrace fall. It’s still in the 80s and humid, but I see the 70s and rain coming up in the forecast. One of my exes used to laugh at me when I would get excited about the changing of the leaves, but really, the passage of time is beautiful and we should commemorate it. The opposite of time passing is that time isn’t passing, and that is so much worse.
Plov. When I first arrived in Uzbekistan, I didn’t appreciate the humble coziness of plov. It was just rice, meat, and vegetables soaked in oil. I was used to spiced and spicy food. But now, this national dish from a nation that isn’t mine is my comfort food. When everything else feels topsy-turvy, plov is constant. Uzbekistan can be a complex and confusing country to find your place in, but plov will always be there to remind you it’s okay to slow down, not understand, and just accept things for what they are.

And here are three things that give me anxiety:

Spotify Wrapped. Does anyone else worry about this ahead of time? I have amazing taste in music, but I listen to the lamest 10% of my music 90% of the time. Last year, granted I only used Spotify for a month before Wrapped came out, was dominated by an unapologetically racist country singer. Like, what? This year, I’m not only scared of my music Wrapped but also my podcasts. I only listen to podcasts about movies (that I don’t watch) and DnD (that I don’t play). Who am I?

Please see my cutie little playlist for you at the end of this blog. A reward for your attention, if you will.

My Midlife Crisis. Not to be morose, but my family line hasn’t always had…staying power. There is a chance that I am actually at mid-life, and time just keeps accelerating. I am afraid I’m going to blink and be 60 tomorrow. Okay, that’s as much thought as I can give this right now. I am going to peruse Craigslist for a Corvette.
Teaching? There is something magical about the Uzbek education system. Genuinely. It often flaunts what we are told are “best teaching practices” like using the grammar-translation method, but the students’ English is just so dang good. This weekend, at a hotel in a smaller city, I asked a young man how he was doing, and he told me, “I’m just surviving.” Amazing. Trying to find out where we Americans with our “new-fangled” teaching methods fit in can be difficult, especially when the general learning curve is so steep. This requires weekly plov.

Anyhoo, here are ten songs that play frequently in my headphones (not all of these are okay for little ears):