As mentioned yesterday (You Can’t Go Back [update]), my memory is horrible. I remember mentioning it yesterday. I do not, however, remember writing about ADHD on this blog before now.
Since I have a terrible memory, I did a search for ADHD. On my own blog. To find out if I’ve written about ADHD. Because ADHD causes me to have a terrible memory.
And then I burst into giggle fits, then somehow had Design Home open on my phone for “just a quick second,” and then did something else, and now it’s been two hours since I opened this page and intended to write a quick post about ADHD.
In doing the search (again, OF MY OWN BLOG) I learned that while I’ve mentioned ADHD in past posts, I have never (I don’t think) before written anything specifically about ADHD.
I fully admit I don’t understand much about ADHD and how it has impacted my life. I was diagnosed at age 20, in the year 1996, if I recall correctly (which, as mentioned above, I probably don’t, but it was definitely around that time). (Also, it’s entirely possible I mentioned this in a previous post, but I’ll have to look to find that out later because if I do it now I’ll get distracted and I don’t want to kill the roll I seem to be on right now.)
When I was diagnosed I started taking Ritalin and my world changed. Suddenly I felt able to function like other people. I could study and get good grades. I could manage my mealtimes and sleep schedule. I could hold conversations with people in ways I hadn’t been able to previously.
It was pretty neat.
Beyond taking medication and understanding that it benefited me, I never delved into what having ADHD really means for me. Remember, 1996 was during the internet early days still. The resources available now weren’t around yet. And there certainly wasn’t much available by way of anecdotal information. Not that I knew of, anyway. And it never occurred to me to hunt it down.
I have spent many years with depression and anxiety, hating things about myself and feeling near-constant levels of shame, probably because of things about me that are due to ADHD.
Case in point: even while writing blog posts I stress about getting everything right. My sentences are perfectly crafted. I will spend hours on a 400-word post.
Because, god forbid, someone might witness me doing something wrong. God forbid someone find out my brain doesn’t work the way I want it to. God forbid people know.
Recently, I have realized that much like Twitter has a fantastic Narcissistic Abuse Recovery community, Twitter also has a fantastic ADHD support community.
I have barely read anything from it. I started following a few accounts and I see their tweets. That is it.
I am afraid to look at the replies. I am, first of all, unable to focus enough lately to do so and keep telling myself I’ll spend some time with it “later,” whenever that may be.
But also, I am scared.
I am avoiding having a mirror held up in front of me, showing me that all these things about myself that, for years, I have battled and felt shame about and called myself horrible names for are…
As a nod to my true self and the way my brain naturally works, I am not going to edit this post. What you see here is how it was originally written, in a ten minute (minus two hours of distraction) spurt of words, and this is how it shall remain.
And, at some point, I swear I’m going to start thinking more, and perhaps writing more, about what ADHD means to me and how it impacts my day-to-day. At some point. Right after I’m done procrastinating.
P.S. Apparently, “I am not going to edit this post” actually means “I am now going to embed a bunch of tweets into it rather than do any of the more productive things I meant to get done tonight.”