The Relief of Diagnosis

Well, apparently I really do have ADD.  I haven’t really allowed myself to fully believe it ever since my therapist suggested I was very ADD’d seven years ago – atleast not until now.  I am sure it didn’t help that my close family, each for their own reasons, refused to believe I might actually have ADD (or an eating disorder or depression for that matter).  My mother is a snob and believes that the only people who end up with ADD are “low class” and I couldn’t possibly have it, because that would make her “lower class.”  Whatever that means.  My bio-logical father and step-mother didn’t want to believe it, because then they’d have to stop telling me that I didn’t try when I worked for them and that I didn’t listen.  It seemed like the HARDER I tried, the less productive I was anyway.  Oh, the irony.  Those two really liked having me as their “can’t do anything right” scapegoat.  That’s why I have nothing to do with them anymore.  While my step-father is a psychologist and ranted through my whole life about how I was a mess and needed to be on meds, he thinks that ADD (and depression) are made up diagnoses that people use so others will feel sorry for them.  ADD (and depression) are “crutches”, he thinks, that people use to not have to take responsibility for their lives. 

I’ve framed my potential ADD in my mind as “I probably have it… who knows…”.  But, I think the emphasis in my thinking was that even if it was less likely that I didn’t have it, I felt like it would be too much of a relief to actually get the diagnosis and didn’t want to get my hopes up. 

Why would I hope for ADD?  Oh my, it would just explain so much.  It would explain the dozens of letters sent to my parents from teachers who were confused about my seeming to be so smart, but my making constant “careless errors.”  I cannot tell you how much I LOATHE the phrase “careless errors”, because I made most of these when I was trying very, very, very, very, very, very, EXTREMELY hard not to make them.  It would explain why sometimes it is painful to try to focus, even on relatively simple things, like a news article.  It would explain why so often I leapfrog from distraction to distraction to distraction until I no longer even remember what I was supposed to be doing (for example at my job) in the first place. 

And, it’s not like I haven’t tried my level best to be better.  I medidate.  I have tried breathing exercises.  Years of EMDR (that helped my PTSD, but not my ADD).  Exercise – from kickboxing to yoga to jogging to weight lifing.  I have read books about dealing with ADD.  And yet, I have still struggled so very much. 

Part of my relief is that if I am properly diagnosed, I can now be properly treated.  Thank goodness, I finally allowed myself to try the medication.  I never knew my brain could be so quiet.  And, while focus still takes effort (as I think it should), it is no longer this Herculean effort that burned me out and broke me down day after day. 

Another part of my relief is that I am no longer simply this weird girl who “can’t get it right” for invisible reasons.  I feel this freedom to no longer allow people to paste this label on me.  Granted, it has been many years since anyone has even dared as I’ve improved my self-esteem and I suppose I started to exude a vibe that I wouldn’t take such crap.  But still – the fear has been there that it would happen again… and right now I’m feeling better prepared than ever to stand against such ignorance. 

This diagnosis has also helped me internalize what my therapist (for eating disorder, depression, ptsd, etc) has been saying all along – that I have worked harder than the average bear to make up for the problems ADD gifted me with.  I have worked damn hard.  I have struggled so much – and I deserve credit for this rather than the label that I never try or try hard enough. 

I feel very lucky that my first serious try on ADD meds has worked well for me.  The effect on my appetite has been minimal and I am careful to make sure I am properly nourished and fuelled.  I have no temptation to try to restrict – AND I AM SO PROUD THAT I HAVE MADE IT TO THIS PLACE!!!  Yayyyyyyyyyy!!! 

I also feel like doors have opened up to me, as I do have better focus and more clarity of thought.  I am excited to see where my acceptance of ADD will take me next. 

The moral of this story is to not be afraid of what you are and to accept it – whether it’s your weight, your neurodiversity, or anything else.  It is a true and solid way forward into living life, as opposed to just surviving it.

–AngryGrayRainbows