When it's ADHD, but You Don't Find Out Until Your Mid-Thirties

 So, diagnosis update. I have been formally diagnosed with ADHD, inattentive type. It's been a long journey to get this diagnosis, both before and after I suspected I had it. It really sucks that I had to realize it myself before I could try to get formally diagnosed because it's something you have for your whole life and is usually diagnosed in childhood. But, because I wasn't a 'behavior problem' when I was young, and I got good grades, no one saw any reason to test me. I'm not sure that they completely understood ADHD in girls when I was young. My mom says I could never sit still, but I could sit still in class. I think I was always so scared of getting in trouble that I was able to minimize some of the symptoms. But, I wasn't really living in the world for a long time. I would daydream and stare into space a majority of the time but I was smart enough to not need to pay attention in class and I read books every chance I could get, so I was intuitively good at english and spelling. My mom worked with me on many concepts outside of school and made her own worksheets and lesson plans. I think the tendency to daydream was not only a result of ADHD but because I was being bullied in school and my dad was struggling with his own issues and would get really mad sometimes. I learned to be quiet and to not set people off. And I learned to be in my own little world and just endure what was happening in the real world. So, briefly I will say that I also have been diagnosed with PTSD, because of my childhood and then abusive romantic relationships as well as several assaults in my adult life. I think I also have PTSD from dealing with undiagnosed ADHD. I have had these symptoms all my life and have been asking for help with them for over a decade.

•  My struggle with being on time
• starting tasks
• completing tasks
• being very sensitive to any sign of rejection from other people
• strong, overwhelming emotions
• not being able to understand people when they speak at first - sometimes it seems like they are speaking another language and then if I'm given a few seconds, I can process what was said and suddenly I understand it. 
  

    These have been very scary to deal with and I always just thought there was something particularly wrong with me. I thought I must be lazy because everyone was telling me that I just needed more self-control, more will-power. I was told by a therapist that "you'll be on time when you want to be on time." It was always assumed that my struggle with being on time was because I didn't want to go to that particular place, even though I've insisted that it wasn't true and that I wanted to be on time. No one believed me. Even my own mother thought I was lying to get out of doing things when I said that I forgot to do them. Both my parents thought I was extremely passive-aggressive and that being late to family things was some sort of manipulation tactic.

     Especially the auditory processing disorder. I have always thought that I was just stupid. Or that it was anxiety. I say "what?" a lot. So much that I get embarrassed that I haven't heard someone and I just pretend that I did hear them and I try to guess what they said. That doesn't always work and it gets really awkward. Sometimes they repeat themselves several times and I still don't have any clue what they're saying. Sometimes I just give up and get quiet. Just go back to my fallback of enduring the situation until it's over.

    My current theory is that ADHD and PTSD are at the root of my other diagnoses. I think I get depressed because I can't do things that other people can do so easily, and I didn't know why until now. It's hard for me to relate to other people, because I don't just do things because I want to and when I think of them, and I have trouble participating in conversations because I can't understand what's being said and sometimes the conversations move too fast for me to process, especially if there are a lot of people involved. It's so alienating, and I've developed social anxiety because of that and because I wasn't a normal kid and spent so much time in my head. I've always been anxious about sharing too much with people about my daily experience because they will reject me. My boyfriend in college lost a lot of respect for me when I said that I watch TV to shut off my brain. He told me he couldn't believe that I would admit that, because he just didn't understand why you would want to shut off your thoughts, and he thought that was something only lazy people would do. I have too many thoughts. Sometimes I get into a thought loop and it just repeats the same thing over and over and over.... Sometimes I think about something in my past that is really upsetting, actually for much of my life that type of thought has been almost constant. It's really hard for me to get on a different track cognitively, and switch to thinking about something else once I start thinking about negative things, and TV is a great tool to help me shut things down and get into a different headspace.

    I just want to feel ok. Like I'm not a failure and a screw-up. When I don't have to do things right away, I watch TV and I get on my phone and cuddle with my cats and just revel in the feeling of not having things due and not having anyone demanding anything from me. I do that every chance I get and the result is unfortunately that I end up not getting things done. 

    I don't think I deserve condemnation for using TV to medicate. Or for using sugary foods and binge-eating to help with my emotions and then gaining a ton of weight, or for developing OCD to compensate for forgetting things all the time, or for developing dermatillomania because I'm restless and anxious, or for developing a strong freeze response when I feel threatened, or for being a really quiet person because I want to avoid upsetting other people and/or making them angry at me, or for developing this weird thing where the expression on my face doesn't match what I'm feeling - which is an effect of trauma.

    I am frustrated that I was not diagnosed earlier, and that I was misdiagnosed with bipolar and took lithium for so long which I didn't need to be taking. I'm frustrated that my symptoms were ignored by so many people including my parents and several different mental health professionals. I am frustrated that I feel like I still can't talk to people about this in a way that will make them actually believe me that I'm struggling with these symptoms and not being lazy or trying to manipulate someone. 

    I am happy that my parents finally believe me and are finally beginning to understand me better. I am glad that I have this diagnosis now so that I can try to get treatment and so I can finally understand myself and work toward a solution to what is the root of my problems.

My TV addiction

Let's talk about how boring writing is and how much I've needed noise in my life since college.

So, lately my obsession has been watching vlogbrothers videos on youtube. John Green is a novelist who writes YA books like Paper Towns, which I just read on vacation. I discovered John's videos before reading his books and I think the main reason for my obsession is just that he is very mature while also being very silly. He is smart but humble and the one picture that caused me to look him up from the start was this;

 

As a person who has been struggling with questions of the dating realm for a few years now (and probably should have struggled a bit more with those questions earlier in life) this really struck home for me. Suddenly I thought, well... this guy exists and has this awesome opinion so maybe men aren't all bad. I know, I don't ever want to come across as the 'Feminazi' but if you read my previous blog posts you have to admit I've had it pretty rough lately and I've only written about a fraction of it, you guys.

Hopefully he's not a unicorn.

Dating sucks ass, you guys, but I'm not really wanting to talk about that right now.

The point is that John Green and his brother are awesome, smart, and compassionate, and they are just the sort of people that I am looking to try and surround myself with. AND it turns out they actually have a whole community of fans called nerdfighters that maybe I can get involved with. I haven't seen anything IRL as of yet, but I will be keeping an eye out.

ANYWAY, the thing I actually wanted to talk a bit about was how I was watching one of John Green's video's today and he was talking about how boring writing is and how reading is not really conducive to our multi-tasking, immediate-update culture. That made me think about how since college, I have needed noise in my life. I've just needed to have some kind of TV show running basically at all times because when I don't, I start to think too much and get into depressive thought cycles. College was one of the more difficult times of my life because of how depressed I was and how early on I was into my diagnosis and treatment. I have done so much work since then on my thought processes;

Meta-cognition; thinking about thinking, and then changing how you think, is incredibly difficult.

Anyway, when I was so sick with depression, TV was a fantastic balm. Books didn't work because my anxiety level was so high for a year I physically could not read any more. But I could lose myself in television. My boyfriend (this is the Jack from my earliest posts) thought it was pretty sick: a Fahrenheit 451 level of distasteful. But, when you have cancer, don't they shoot poison into your veins? Most people don't understand just how bad my illness got.

I'm not at that level of depression anymore but I still watch TV like it's my job. I feel a little uncomfortable without it being on. Maybe it was my methadone? But now I'm still addicted to it. And, it impairs my ability to be quiet and to do things that require quiet such as writing. I even do my yoga while watching a TV show (one that isn't yoga). When I was living with my parents I think I sought out quiet more because it was so loud there with my sister and my dad. And, of course, going to high school there was so much noise there.

Maybe I don't really like the quiet as much as I used to think I did and when I moved out on my own  I ended up being a lot more lonely than I have cared to admit. And so, I just like to hear the people talking on the TV even if I'm not really paying attention to the show. Maybe if I balance my life out a little more and have more people in it then I will seek out the quiet again and write and read and play music and do yoga without needing TV.

I am working on my life balance and most of the time I feel so unsatisfied because I am 29 and things are not where I want them to be. But it has been good today to remember where I used to be. I'm glad I'm not there anymore and I have come a long way, I have made progress. But, I probably will continue to watch John Green videos while I finish my laundry because he inspires me. He inspired me to write today. Thanks, John.

Jane               

This work is licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution-NonCommercial-NoDerivs 3.0 United States License.

That Serial Killer I Dated, Part I (TW-assault)

                 It was our third date if you count the speed-dating event where we met. He was a doctor of physical therapy with a nice condo in the city and he had asked me over to cook dinner for me. His place was clean and very bachelor-y with the only décor being his framed degree hung up on the wall next to a bookcase full of binders of school notes and anatomy and physiology books. His furniture was all brown or black pieces; not fashionable or modern, but it was clean and tidy. Big TV, naturally. When I got there he was still cooking the meal, fiddling with the stuff on the stove and vegetables in the microwave. He poured a couple glasses of wine while we waited and it was nice, really. I had some reservations about him because of our last date but I was being put at ease. 

                On our second date, we went to a museum and it was really awkward trying to hold a conversation with him there. He was soft-spoken and would walk behind me or away from me in the middle of a conversation so that I couldn’t hear him anymore and I would have to follow him around or twist myself around to keep talking. That got old as soon as it started. Besides that, he was literally pushy. I think he was trying to joke around and he just randomly shoved me while I was on the steps at the museum. Looking back now I know to think: WTF??!! But at the time I was just annoyed and took it like I always take things like that: pissed off inside but not really clicking that it’s wrong for someone to do that to me. I pushed the feelings down, said nothing and kept walking. He pushed me a few times. I thought about taking the elevator to be sure that I wouldn’t fall down the stairs in the parking garage.

                Back to our third date; dinner was nice. We had a much livelier conversation than on the previous date and the food was pretty good. The steak was a little too overdone but he had still cooked for me and that’s bound to win you 3,000 points unless it’s absolutely inedible. I was enjoying myself but then somehow we got on the topic of Disney fairy tales versus the original stories. I say something about how sleeping beauty was not kissed but actually raped awake (remember we are having a good conversation and I am feeling at ease at this point). Then he comes back with, “Yeah, but he married her afterward,” with an absolutely serious face.

                “What?”

                “He raped her but he married her afterwards.”

                “That doesn’t make it not rape. That doesn’t make it any better.”

                He didn’t answer me, just took a drink of wine. 

    “I need to know that you know rape isn’t cancelled out by marriage.”

    “No, of course it’s not.”

                After dinner he offered me more wine and even though I said no, he went on to pour me a very large glass, finishing off the bottle. After our exchange, I was set on not drinking it to make sure I was sober enough to leave. I was looking for a polite way out when he suggested we watch a movie. 

                “Ok, maybe I can stay for half a movie.”

                He put on an old, obscure movie that I had never seen before but one that he insisted was a ‘classic’ and I ‘had to see it.’ He sat down on one side of the sectional sofa and I placed myself on the far side of the L shape, away from him. 

                “You haven’t been drinking your wine.”

                “I told you I didn’t want any more. It keeps me up at night.”

                “Come sit over here.” I didn’t really want to, but he insisted so I sat down next to him. He inched a bit closer. After a while, he put his arm around my shoulders. I was still a bit tense and the movie was from the 90’s and boring. I watched the clock and wondered when would be a good time to make my exit. Then, without any kind of warning, he scooted himself down and laid his head in my lap.

                I was in shock. 

               “Will you pat my hair?”

               “What?”

               “I want you to pat my hair,” he picked up my hand and laid it on his head, moving it up and down in patting motions.

               “No, that’s ok.” I took my hand away. He grabbed it back and put it on his head. I tried to take back my hand but he held it firmly on his head. I tried to stand up, but he used his head on my lap to apply pressure and keep me sitting down. My heart was beating at a thousand times a second, I had no idea what to do. I stayed still.

                He made me stroke his hair again for a little while and then he sat up straight again. He was talking to me but I have no idea what he said. I was panicking. But I stayed still.

                He put his hand on my head and pushed me down into his lap. I think I actually felt a piece of my mind snapping. He held me down there with his arm and wouldn’t let me up. I think he continued to talk. I struggled but he was too strong. So I stopped and waited.

                He let me up and I stood/rolled off the couch and onto my feet, sliding my coat from the chair onto my back like I’d practiced it a million times and grabbed my purse. 

               “I have to get up early in the morning so I’d better go.”

              “Why do you have to go all of a sudden? We haven’t finished the movie,” he reminded me of a snake, poised and dangerous.

               “I really have to go.” I walked calmly towards his door, “Maybe we can finish it next time.”

               He got up and walked to the door as well, joining me in the doorway. I wondered if I screamed, if any of the neighbors would notice. I remembered my mother always told me to shout ‘fire!’ because that’s what gets people’s attention.

               I said, “Have a good night,” and I gave him a short hug. I walked away briskly to my car. I have never driven away from a place so fast in my life.

What Trust Doesn't Look Like (TW-domestic violence)

Saturday night he had gotten drunk and violent. He threw things and threatened to hurt me. He was acting literally like a monkey, jumping on top of the couch and tearing the cushions off. He cycled between yelling, rocking back and forth on his hands and knees on the floor crying, throwing things around, and talking to me in that low, threatening voice. He also spoke to people who weren’t there.

I tried to help him. I had never seen anyone like that before, much less someone I loved. I tried to talk to him, soothe him, and give him something to throw up in. But he threw it back at me. When he went to the bathroom, I ran quietly up the stairs and away from him, shutting a door in between us. I didn’t want to leave because I still thought somehow I could help him. But I didn’t go back down until the morning. His grandmother actually asked me to leave, but I said no,  I want to help him through this. Then she gave me some blankets for the couch and went downstairs and talked to him sternly. I thought that I wish I could talk to him that way and have him listen to me.

On Sunday morning, I told him what had happened and he couldn’t remember any of it. He readily promised me that he wouldn’t drink at all if we were alone together and he would just drink with his friends.

Monday night he brought three double-size beers over to my apartment. I don’t know what they are really called, but I know that each one was the size of two normal beers. I was in shock and fearful.

“You can’t drink those here.”

He was immediately angry, “it’s just beer! It’s not that much!”

“You promised me you wouldn’t drink when it’s just you and me.”

“I had a hard day at work, I deserve a beer!”

“But there are three of them, and they’re gigantic. Just have one, ok?”

“I’m a grown man.”

He sulked and acted like a two-year-old for the next few hours, while I was a ball of tension, wondering what I should do if he got drunk and violent again. In my own apartment there was nowhere else to go, no one else to help me. I could put my cat in a carrier and just leave, maybe go to my parent’s house and hopefully he wouldn’t destroy too much of my stuff. 

Finally, we got to the moment when he might have one of the beers and I said, “You know, it’s just that you promised. You gave me your word that you wouldn’t drink and now you’re breaking your word.”

I knew that would get him, since he’s always going on and on about how honesty and ‘his word’ is so important to him, even though he was still able to cheat on me and go out with other women while I was still lying in his bed. 

He didn’t have any of the beers and he took them with him when he left. A good idea, since I would have poured them out. 

Before we broke up, we had a couple other uncomfortable nights with his drinking. Once when he put his arm around my neck in what maybe his drink-brain thought was affectionate but felt to me like a choke hold. Thank god for that self-defense class. 

He told me once during these awful nights, “The biggest reason I know we won’t make it is because you don’t trust me. You’re afraid of me.”

Well, asshole, maybe you should behave like someone who can be trusted.

This work is licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution-NonCommercial-NoDerivs 3.0 United States License.