Being Roger

We all know Roger; this cartoon has been around since the '80s and has circled the planet more times than the ISS. At one point or another, in all of our lives, we have been Roger. No matter how much we prep ourselves for the big moment, no matter how much we psych ourselves up, no matter how ready we are... *dull thud*

A friend of mine put this comic up on his Facebook timeline a few days ago, right at the beginning of Mental Health Awareness month, while I was once again sitting in a mental hospital. And I cried; I realised in a split second that Roger is an immortal, encapsulation, of the sheer volume of stress, anxiety, dismissal, anguish, and rejection those of us with ADHD have and will receive throughout our lives.

Please read the previous sentence again. Then I ask you to really think about what your first reaction to that statement was. Slight sigh, and to think "lighten the fuck up, it's a cartoon."? Maybe, to wonder whether or not I was stable enough to be having a genuine emotional reaction to Roger; I did just say I have ADHD AND that I was in a mental hospital at the time. Maybe it's just that time of the month? I am a vagina owner after all.

I would like to welcome you to the world of ADHD invalidation, and diagnostics. Especially for a female. The above, possible reactions, are "the majority". Based on those closest to me the other reactions available also ranged from "Wooaaahhhh!" *mind blown emoji* to "This is going to be so interesting..." to *sobs*"OMG SOMEONE GETS IT!". But that is because those closest to me are also Neurodivergent. I have a WHOLE-ass theory on why that is, and why we find each other, which I will get into another time. It is based partly on scientific theory, which I have NO background in. *thumbs up*

Back to Roger. I'd like, first, to just state the obvious about the comic itself and then relate it back to why he is the ADHD Mascot. Let's start with the basics; Our boy is clearly stressed out. He appears to be an adult, playing in an orchestra. Based on them all being uniformly dressed, this is a performance, rather than a rehearsal. This is not just an ensemble, as there is a conductor. He has acute anxiety regarding not screwing up "Again"; It seems that the situation he is about to find himself in has happened before. At the moment he is under the impression he has prepared well enough that he shouldn't screw up; that he has things under control. There is a large expectation from Roger. We tend to laugh at this comic block because we can see he wants so hard to get it right, but he has failed before he's even started. It's funny because there is sympathy for Roger. As I said at the start; we have all been Roger.

We're going deep with the comic block, but I'm going to try to stay broad with ADHD terms; there are so many subtleties because ADHD is on a spectrum. There is no way for me to capture everyone's feelings, experiences, or internal struggles. This will be based on my own story and journey with ADHD diagnosis and medication. While the below will be somewhat funny, please keep in mind that, while I am turning it into a contextual "cartoon scenario" it has actually happened, and it has happened to me.

Taking another look at Roger, let's imagine we are the ones standing there. It doesn't have to be a performance or with an orchestra, but stick with that if it helps. This can be a meeting, where you have a few slides to present that you have already sent through to someone to put into a larger deck. This can be getting ready for work in the morning and you must, must, must take your medication. Whatever the scenario; THIS time you won't screw up. But you do. And again. And again. Whatever the scenario, or multiple scenarios, you get up every morning (stand up to perform with the orchestra), and tell yourself that today will be better. You live in this moment that Roger is experiencing. You think you've got it handled, right up until the second you don't. Day in, day out, every conversation, every encounter, all day, every day, every task is a fight and always has been. You have undiagnosed ADHD.

In the context of the comic; having undiagnosed ADHD means Roger doesn't even know there is supposed to be something in his other hand. No one has ever told him. All he knows is that he keeps screwing up and no one has told him how, or what needs to be happening differently. The other members of the orchestra are furious with him for continually messing up their performance - he has one fucking job. They don't know that he doesn't know. The conductor is looking RIGHT at him. The person technically responsible for the entire performance, who has clearly seen Roger screw up before, has not pulled him aside and said anything to him about the missing object.

He has been scolded, laughed at, mocked, given terrible nicknames, his job threatened, and he gets talked about behind his back. He has been told to pay attention, get his shit together, write reminders, given all of the advice under the sun on how to do better. The one and only thing no one has done for Roger is pull him aside and said "Hey, I know you're trying your guts out, but did you know you're actually supposed to have something in your other hand?"

Theydies and Gentlethems, Roger now has a diagnosis.

Unfortunately, finding your "something" for your other hand (your method of medicating) is just as fucking vague as it sounds. You'd think it would be easier to just say "he needs a second cymbal", wouldn't it? In this case, "cymbal" is a euphemism for the dopamine receptors in our brains. The best way to explain is that people with ADHD do not have those, or they do not function properly. For the purpose of what I am writing, Roger's existing cymbal is the part of his brain that is functioning in ADHD land and is sorely missing its dopamine hit. The missing "something" is exactly that. We now enter the phase of "Diagnosed, but untreated"; here we find Roger with clarity for the first time in his life about why he's felt like such a failure. He didn't know! How could he do it right if he didn't know? He spends some time angry with his fellow orchestra members, some of whom he KNOWS had issues similar to his. He spends time mad at himself for being so ignorant. He spends some time thinking, and cringing over, all of the performances that he personally messed up just for not knowing.

He's ready to do it right, he's ready to see what it's like to really be part of the orchestra. He's back, ready to not screw up THIS time, something in his other hand, having had to take time off to practice with his new something (basically take a couple of weeks to make sure there are no adverse reactions to the medication). The big moment comes and... Oh, no! Roger that was a pillow - wrong medication. Yes, it felt nice to hold, but it didn't give the clarity you need (no bad physical reactions, but no cognitive clarity). So we try again, with some more time off. He's back with the orchestra, and he has something else in his hand, won't screw up THIS time... No Roger, that was a hammer. Yes, also easy to hold, it gave very acute clarity, but, it will also damage the existing instrument (Bursts of cognitive clarity, no real physical symptoms, but brain fog and memory issues). And we try again... Time off... cactus; no. And we try again... Time off...noodles; no. And we try again... Time off...frying pan - that was closer! Maybe we can stick with this for a little while? Oh... oops, that's causing more damage to the existing instrument than we thought, never mind (Cognitive clarity, no immediate physical reactions, but eventually irritability and other symptoms of withdrawal that come with a stimulant medication). Yes, we know you were doing better, but we're taking that away now. AAAAaaand we try again...Time off... etc.

Remember when I asked you to consider your initial reaction to my thought that Roger is the encapsulation of dismissal, anguish, and rejection we with ADHD face?

If you have gotten this far you are clearly not dismissing the idea that ADHD can be a struggle, so I thank you for that. But if you initially, and still think that our buddy Roger could not capture the above feeling, I ask you to please reconsider. For me, he is a perfect depiction of the ongoing anxiety, uncertainty, frustration, and sadness that we live in; he is all of those feelings, captured in one moment, stretched into a lifetime. He helps capture the pressure to perform for medical professionals to "prove" our condition on cue, repeatedly. As an added pressure I must ensure, as a woman, that I do it at a certain time of the month so the results are not skewed by hormones. Roger reminds me of the disgust and rejection received by our peers when we do fail in ways we have never even thought to comprehend, and eternally encapsulates the rejection of being laughed at by the audience/general public in dismissal because "we all do that sometimes".

I hope I've given you a little more to think about regarding ADHD. It is not "new", it is not "a fad", and it is not "becoming more popular". The signs and symptoms are being more readily recognised because of advances in medical technology and because more people who suffer from it are willing to speak out and discuss their symptoms. This means more people are being correctly diagnosed and treated, several of whom are now in their 30s, 40s, and higher. There are varying levels and severity of ADHD, and the model of the 8-year-old white boy bouncing on his chair in class, randomly shouting out questions about dragons and running in literal cirlcles in the front yard is not the only model. I promise you know someone who has it. If you listen closely enough they have probably tried to tell you, explain what it feels like, and what they struggle with. Sometimes we talk in pictures. Sometimes we are really good at making comparisons. And sometimes being able to understand living in one exact moment from a 40-year-old cartoon for a lifetime takes the insite of a mental patient on the rag.