Most of my life, I've berated myself for being lazy, a slob, and someone who rarely finishes what they started. I would start the day with a list of things to accomplish, and halfway through one task, think of another that had to be done right now. Then the million thoughts would start, like fireflies on a dark summer night, flickering through my brain and disappearing.
Eventually, I'd get overwhelmed with what needed to be done, and literally shut down. I'd sit in front of the TV, or play Candy Crush, or go down multiple rabbit holes on the internet. Today I learned that daffodils are quite deer resistant, which led me to a list of other bulbs that meet that criteria, which somehow led to the Iceland Poppy germination time, and then remembering that I was going to write a blog today.
A few months ago, my best friend told me she thought I had ADHD. Now, that term gets thrown around a lot, mostly to be funny. But it got me thinking. I've struggled with chronic depression and anxiety since I was 17 years old, when my father died in front of me. No one thought to get me help, until I went to a psychiatrist when I was 30, a puddle of anxiety and tears over a betrayal I couldn't get over. So started my journey on Prozac. It helped for several years, until I decided I wasn't really depressed and stopped taking it. A few years later I asked for it again, but this time it didn't seem to work, so I went on Wellbutrin instead. My dosage has been steadily increased over the last 10 years, and it's helped, especially after Long Covid knocked me on my ass.
But back to ADHD. My friend's comment sent me down a rabbit hole of looking at symptoms. Doctor Google said I had ADHD for sure. So, at my annual physical, I asked my Primary about it. She put a referral in to a psychologist, who sent me for testing, and I got my results yesterday.
There are 3 kinds of ADHD - Inattentive, Hyperactive, and Combined. They no longer think of ADHD as a behavioral issue - they know it's a neurological phenomenon where the brain is just wired differently.
I am in the 99th percentile of Inattentive ADHD. Nice to be good at something! Next step is to meet with the psychiatrist, who can prescribe medication and suggest coping strategies.
Right after the phone call from the psychologist, I started to cry. All my life I've thought I was defective, with a messy house, procrastinating over the smallest tasks, and not being able to focus my attention for long. I'm not defective; I'm just different. I'm neurodivergent. 64 years of seeking answers, 64 years of feeling horrible about myself.
Now back to throwing the rest of the laundry in the machine after I decided I needed to know about daffodils and poppies and write a blog post before anything else.
