Why I Stopped Taking ADHD Medication

And why you likely want to keep on taking yours

“There was no such thing as ADHD in Sister Mary’s fifth grade classroom,” my father said. He was neither dismissing the reality of such neurodivergence nor criticizing the use of medication. Rather, he was slamming the Catholic school system he was subjected to, one that gave few shits about education in favor of a sharp rap across the knuckles for any kid who so much as tapped their foot during class.

In November of 2021, at the age of 53, I was diagnosed with ADHD and began taking Ritalin. I wrote about it here. It was a popular post and generated a lot of fan mail from people who said it spoke to them, that the piece prompted them to get their own diagnosis, and that it was life-changing.

In case you missed the subtitle, this piece isn’t a slag on the meds; they are helpful for many. My circumstances are unique, but they may apply to some, so I figured it was time for a follow up to explain why I stopped taking my meds. But first, to recap that piece, the reason I began taking them was anxiety and my hyper-fixation on work to the detriment of all else.

I’ve always been anxious but had managed. Shit went off the rails when I began making lots of money as a self-published author. A year after I wrote that 2021 story I was invited to give a TEDx talk in Romania about how ADHD can be “a creative superpower with anxiety kryptonite.” No surprise that people whose minds tend to wander are often more creative. What was surprising to learn in researching that talk was what happens when a reward is attached to creative pursuits.

Simply put, when a reward is associated with a creative endeavor, someone with ADHD tends to work much harder on said endeavor than a neurotypical person will. That was a major lightbulb for me. I was taking Ritalin to stop working so I could do things like exercise, housework, and plan and prepare healthy meals. I’d become obsessed over work because, after a decade of making a moderate income as a writer, my career exploded. And it did so in a way that is almost akin to operant conditioning via creating a near stimulus-response effect of work equating to fast money.

I have a large and engaged Facebook following and wrote a popular, profanity-filled history book titled On This Day in History Sh!t Went Down. I would write creative ads to promote said book, post them to Facebook, and watch the sales roll in. I was already spending too much time on that cursed social media platform, but when I saw how effective I could be at using it to sell books (and Substack subscriptions), I didn’t want to do anything else. One year, in the weeks before Christmas, I was averaging 500 books sold a day. These books were going for $20 US, and I got almost 30% of that. Do the math.

Did Ritalin fix that problem of obsessing over work? Nope. It helped some, but the big difference was a big book deal.

I signed a large two-book deal with Penguin Random House. It required me to stop selling my self-published books, of course, because we were going to rework the first one for traditional publication. Right up until the sales ceased in the spring of 2023, I was flogging the shit out of them. Last chance to buy for a long ass time! Get them now!

And then the self-published versions weren’t for sale any longer and the dynamic changed. Volume I went from on sale of the old version to a presale of the new one, which came out six months later. Now the sales don’t come to me; they chip away at a very large advance from the publisher that gets doled out in portions over a few years. I still push the book, as that’s part of the deal and I want it to be successful (buy it!), but I’m no longer obsessed because trying to earn out an advance isn’t the same as seeing the numbers in your bank account climb each day.

Okay you can tell I haven’t taken my Ritalin because I’m fucking rambling. I shall endeavor to get to the point.

I have the hyper-fixation variety of ADHD that allowed me to be successful, although often anxious, by combining a love of history, writing, and money. I love money and want more. If you’re not already, please become a paid subscriber. You can even do a free trial.

My publisher and I decided the second book in the deal would not be Volume II of On This Day in History Sh!t Went Down. I actually re-self-published that a while back if you wanna get it. Same link. Anyway, we decided to shoot much higher, with me composing my Magnum Opus with the working title of Greedy Sexist Religious Bigots: A History of Humanity. It was without question the most challenging project I’ve ever undertaken. Eighteen months of researching full-time—at least 30 hours a week of reading history book after history book—then six months of absolute hell writing it. I never needed to take Ritalin to write before, but for this book I came to rely upon it because the synthesis of so much research into a compact history of every fucking thing that ever fucking happened took more work than I could imagine. That six months was both physically and mentally damaging, and I was using Ritalin to power through and meet MY deadline. My editor was all “It’ll get done when it gets done” and I was like “I haven’t had a brand-new book published since 2022 no more fucking delays.” The thing still isn’t going to get published until the fall of 2026 (hopefully), so I felt kind of justified.

Anyway, when the first draft was finally completed two months ago, I suddenly realized Wow I really fucked myself up.

The good news is, my editor and some sample readers love the book, and the edits won’t be too intense. The better news is, I’ve decided I am never pushing myself like that again. Okay I’m finally going to get to the meat of this fucker. Sorry for rambling on with my life story.

I discussed it with my physician and weaned off Ritalin.

DISCLAIMER: THIS IS PERSONAL EXPERIENCE NOT MEDICAL ADVICE.

Why? First reason is, why take a drug if you feel you no longer need it? I’m 57 and in pretty good shape, endeavoring to get back into top shape. At my age, things like blood pressure become a concern, especially since I have a genetic propensity. As I age, I’ll likely be adding medications, and here was an opportunity to subtract one.

The second reason is that it wasn’t doing what I needed it to any longer. In my discussion with my doc, she said ADHD meds help anxiety through a more indirect route. For people with ADHD who experience anxiety because the fucking world says you gotta do this and do that stop being such a space cadet, the medication can reduce anxiety because it helps them function in a society not designed for them.

I don’t have to live by those rules any longer. I gained the freedom to be my ADHD self. Mind you, it’s moderate ADHD. I lived like this without medication for 53 years and managed okay. Now at 57 I don’t have to manage if I don’t want to. I learned some lessons about obsessing over money and pushing myself too hard. I love writing, but didn’t love creating that last book. I will never be in a rush again. I’m not “semi-retired” so much as switching to part-time. I still plan to write and promote more books and keep telling silly tales to my paid Substack subscribers, but at a pace I find enjoyable.

There was a lot of privilege involved in this decision, as well as luck and some hard work. I’m getting too old to not enjoy the rest of my existence, so I decided to release the pressure valve and enhance my chill. There are plenty more books to come, but I’ll never again grind myself down in either the writing or promoting of them, and I’ll always make time for bike rides, runs, ski days, and the gym.

What about anxiety? I’m not depressed and wasn’t thrilled about some of the side effects that come with antidepressants, so I am taking a low dose of something called Buspirone. You can google that if you like, but it’s an anxiety med that is NOT a benzo such as Valium or Ativan; it’s not addictive, isn’t subject to abuse, and has minimal side effects. It’s working well, and I think I may wean my way off that some time in the next year. The only reason I’m taking it is because there is other life shit going on that has nothing to do with my career. Life shit that I’m afraid is none of your business.

Anyfuckingway, privilege. I stopped taking it because I had the good fortune to be able to create a life where I could tell the neurotypical demands of society to go fuck itself. My fellow ADHD peeps likely lack that freedom, and so there is no shame in continuing your medication to continue to survive and possibly even thrive in this capitalistic hellscape. Do what you gotta do.

Speaking of, today it is sunny and warm, but the next three days will be rainy. What I gotta do right now is go for one of those long bike rides.

Get both volumes of On This Day in History Sh!t Went Down.