January 21, 2020 at 12:19 pm #email@example.comParticipant
Around 9 months ago I had a night, with a friend and some drinks. We talked about what I wish people knew about me and my recently diagnosed ADHD.
We wrote it down, and I found it recently while obsessively cleaning my storage locker.
It inspired this post, as so much of it is true.
What I wish you knew about my ADHD.
I wish you knew that some days are great. I am happy, excited and full of all things positive. I see my future as bright and hopeful. I see myself as a great mother, a good friend and daughter. These are the good days. They are the days when I answer the phone, I want to be around other people and I plan lots of adventures as my brain races.
They are the days when I get a lot of productive work done, my schooling is fun, and I am an adult. These are the good days.
Then there are the bad days. The ones where anxiety hits me in the core. I am oversensitive, easily hurt, and not interested in being with anyone. I want to crawl back into my bed and not move. I see myself as a failure, like somewhere along the lines I missed the part about how to be an adult. I can stare into space for what seems like hours, my head hurts, my brain struggles to see the positives and I am hyper aware of everything around me. This includes physical touch and the ability to take on anything but my daily routine.
I wish you knew what the wrong medication feels like. The sudden flood of serotonin on my brain, the headache and feeling of complete disorientation and anxiety. Trying to titrate the right dosage can only be described as exhausting. It’s the monthly trips to the doctor’s office, where all the nurses seem to know your name as well as your son’s.
I wish you knew what it is like to start over from ground zero.
I wish you knew what it is like to try and explain something that people have little understanding of in the adult community. Repeating the list of symptoms that explain you over and over again, while people repeatedly tell you that we are all a little ADHD.
I wish you knew what it was like to continually put your foot in your mouth at the wrong time, and pray that no one noticed and if they did, they are too polite to bring it up.
I wish you knew how hard social interaction is for me. How I choose to now surround myself with only people who understand my awkwardness and accept it.
I wish you knew how scared I am to embarrass the ones I love with my inability to hold it together all the time.
I wish you knew what it is like to have a mental disability, that is hidden under the surface of what is an almost normal appearance. You might not see it, but it is definitely there.
The triggers for both good and bad days are always there.
I wake up most days on the positive side of the bed and fill my days with the love and laughter of my son, my family and my friends.
But the bad days do creep in.
Recently, I lost that good friend.
He was taken away from us suddenly and I didn’t get to say goodbye. A man I had known for 4 years, we had laughter, silly adventures and lots of love. He was a man who understood my struggles and my brain a lot of the time. He knew I was terrible at answering my phone and my texts, but I hope he knew the importance he played in my life.
This brought on some bad days, which I am sure is a normal reaction to losing someone in your life. It brought sadness and endless cleaning and organizing to keep my mind on something other than a life taken far to early.
I switched medications hoping it would help to refocus on my life, it did the opposite and brought me to my knees in headaches and the overwhelming sensation to curl up and cry.
Suddenly, it lifted. I heard Jay’s voice in my head, and he reminded me that even though I am a little awkward and impulsive I deserved happiness, love and light. That material goods didn’t bring me happiness, family and friends did. That I am the person I am today because of the situations that surround me. It is ok to have bad days, what you need to focus on is having more positive ones.
Mostly though, his death brought me to a realization that we only have one real shot at life. We should do the things that scare us, have the conversations that are hard and live life with love and passion for everything we do. It can be taken from us at anytime.
Jay, I thank you, from the bottom of my heart for everything and especially for loving me just the way I am and teaching me it was ok to be me. Your friendship not only brought light into my life when it was desperately needed but you also allowed me into yours.
Josh and I promise to always have a dance party in the car to Cake By The Ocean for you and I promise to make you proud. Until we meet again my friend.
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