Five years ago today I was inconclusively “diagnosed” with ADHD: my testing couldn’t fully diagnose ADHD, though did pinpoint a host of other learning issues and quirks about my brain, but they also couldn’t fully exclude the possibility of an ADHD diagnosis. That discussion marked a closure of sorts: gave me answers, and affirmed the fact that no, I wasn’t dumb, and I was in fact trying as hard as I could—my brain just has wiring that’s a bit different.

Over the last five years I’ve navigated what that means—and I’ll probably spend the rest of my life figuring it out. I’ve embraced that I “see life differently”. 

Embracing ADHD though, doesn’t mean I’ve stopped questioning what might have been different had I been diagnosed with ADHD and learning issues earlier—unfortunately. Perhaps one day.

i’ve got scars i’m willing to show you.
you had heart that i’ll never see
she had answers to all the wrong questions.
it’s funny, these answers are all that i need.

caldecott tunnel, something corporate

From twenty-one to twenty-six, things have changed a lot in those five years since my diagnosis—many, if not most, for good. I’ve written before about wanting back certain elements of myself from certain points in my life—coincidentally, today, I feel I might be closer to that. Whether a method of procrastination or of opportunity, I danced today for the first time in ages. I paused once in that 34:40.61 span of time to make a note in my journal—another activity, like exercise, I did much more frequently in 2011-2013 than I do now, and one I am obviously better off for doing—both in general and specifically for my ADHD.

During that time when I was flailing around “dancing” (because I can’t dance, and I don’t care, ‘cause it feels good), I also again remembered it was my ADHDaversary, and reflected on that, too. How I’m still the same but, because of the knowledge packaged in a diagnosis, so different at the same time.

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When busing back and forth from assessment appointments, I listened to a lot of Something Corporate, and found specific relevance in Caldecott Tunnel. Mostly for this one line in the midst of the process—and for the one above after the fact.

we end up regretting the things we don’t try.

caldecott tunnel, something corporate

Here I am, five years later. Appreciative of and still wanting everything I know now, but also wanting elements of my twenty-one-year-old-self—who was figuring shit out much the same as I am now.

And knowing somehow, someday I’ll get there—or a different version of here. And will continue to embrace the good of ADHD… and work on doing better at embracing the moments I hate my ADHD, seeing the not-so-good for what it is and working with it. In the meantime, I’ll enjoy the journey—because let’s be honest, an easily distracted and differently thinking mind has to be a lot more interesting to live with than a neurotypical one. Not that I will know that world, and nor do I want to. 

If I had a normal brain I wouldn’t be me, after all. And being me has been a pretty wild ride so far.

I think the added impulsivity helps with that. 😉

 

I’ve got a lot of amazing allies who have been my biggest supporters through the earliest days of questions and all of the days since I got the answer of ADHD. Jay – as always, without you I am unsure I’d have persisted in accessing the assessment—thank you for all your support finding resources early on, and in the last five years. Seriously not sure where I’d be without you. Tash – for throwing e-mails back and forth in all phases of the process. and sharing your own adult ADHD/ASD journey with me so candidly; you pushed me to learn more about myself. The Smart Girls with ADHD admins—Beth, for creating SGwADHD, Nikki, Liz, Nathalie and Matti. Rob, Theresa, and everyone else I’ve connected with online. Thanks for helping me to be more awesome.

I’ve probably missed some of you. If you’re reading this, well, you likely deserve to be on this list too. Thanks for being a part of my story.

Three years ago today I received the results of my assessment. While I waited awhile to have my ADHD diagnosis further confirmed, today—March 20th—is the day that I still see as my ADHDaversary (I mean, look, if I’m making this a cake-worthy celebration I’ll celebrate both days. Duh.)

Photo on 2016-03-20 at 11.02 AM #2

Like anything, I’m not defined by my ADHD, but it helps explain me—and, over the last 3 years, I’ve learned a lot about how ADHD influences who I am, and how its traits are woven into the person I am. My diagnosis helps me understand myself better—and that’s the most important thing of all. Everything I wrote back in August resonates so much here:

I just felt different for much of my life: [ADHD] explains the frustration, the self-doubt, the guilt that was associated with not being all people thought I should be, the huge shift I’ve felt in my world on meds, the issues I had in school, the issues I had/have at times interacting with people, the sensory overload, all the freaking feelings that sometimes justoverwhelm me. ADHD helps explain that. Those things are all a part of me, and so is ADHD.

it’s not a label, it’s a bridge: part two

I’m happy to have answers, to have words to explain my world, an amazing tribe of Smart Girls with ADHD who get it (Smart Girls founder, Beth, is the reason I actually went back and looked for my diagnosis date after her own anniversary a week ago!), friends who have reached out with their own stories, and others who may not totally get it, but they try. I am happy to be the person that I am, with the story that I have—ADHD and all.

In all of its chaos and ups and downs and the curve-balls it has thrown into my life, its still my story—THIS is what ADHD looks like: Me. 

Appropriately random for the day several of my quirks got explained, it’s National Ravioli Day today (and no, I don’t care which nation is celebrating ravioli.) Obviously, I’m going to celebrate my awesomeness with ravioli for supper.

Here’s to more attention deficit adventures ahead… Because ADHDers definitely have more fun—at least once we figure out where we’re going, find our keys, remember what time we’re supposed to leave, and learn to embrace everything about who we are.