My life with ADHD, nevertheless I persisted- Part 2

ADHD Part Three

My life with ADHD, nevertheless I persisted- Part 2

Keeping my life with ADHD to myself

Until the last decade, I could count on two hands, maybe even one, the number of people outside of my family I told this story. I have made a lot of progress, but it still haunts me and sneaks up on me at times. Figuring out how to start talking about my worst experience with ADHD, the story I never talked about, is difficult. It is the story I was not sure I would ever be able to write. This is one of the biggest parts of my life with ADHD and how, nevertheless, I persisted.

Clarification

Let me be clear, this is not a pity me story. This is a glimpse into how I got where I am. Plenty of people have worse stories than mine but plenty of people have better stories too. I do not wish this or anything on anyone, but I also would not trade my experience for anything. This is a large piece of how I got here today. Before I continue, another disclaimer, I am not writing this to shame or guilt anyone. This is not to punish anyone. So if this stumbles into the hands of anyone I mention, this is for me, not to get to you.

Professionally, this is a difficult piece to write. I am now grateful for my ADHD and in a wonderful place. I do not want this story to skew perceptions, but I know that vulnerability is key to progress and relating to others. If one child, teen, young adult, parent, friend, or family member of an individual with ADHD reads this blog and has a better understanding of ADHD and the person they love, then my time has been well spent.

Struggling with my life and ADHD

I have experienced tragedy in my life, in several forms. There are plenty of years I would prefer to not do again, memories I would like to forget, and scars that I wear on a daily basis. However, I am also very grateful for each one of those experiences and would not remove any of them from my past. That said, I honestly think my sixth grade year was one of the worst of my life. To be honest, I am not sure I will ever think differently but even if I do, I have been working on accepting the fact that being one of the worst years of my life has led to being one of the best because I would not be who I am without it.

History

As I shared previously, I was diagnosed with ADHD in fourth grade. The psychologist who diagnosed me is how I decided I wanted to be a psychologist. She is how I knew what was “going on” with me and what I could do about it. I spent two years working on that and continuing to struggle. Then sixth grade hit. I have never met anyone that would redo middle school but for a long time, I have wanted to burn those memories, erase them forever. At least I thought I did.

Sixth grade life with ADHD

Most of my sixth grade teachers felt like nightmares to me. They made me an “example,” called me stupid, and treated me as though I was. For example, they made comments such as, “Don’t be stupid like Amanda” and “Get your stuff together, unlike Amanda.” I was not allowed to go to the nurse to take my stimulant medication. They thought I was lazy and unintelligent; a dumb sixth grader to make an example of for everyone else.

This infuriated my parents and understandably so. They met with my teachers and the staff. You know what the teachers said? Their response was ADHD was not real and it was all due to bad parenting. Bad parenting?! Don’t even get me started. Saying ADHD is not real is one thing, running my parents over, that is a whole other ballgame. I won the parent lottery; I may be the oldest, but they did not do wrong by me. There is no doubt, I am where I am in large part because of them and in spite of those teachers. How dare they.

Deciding how to live

I have worked in schools for years and I have seen them get sued. My parents could have sued and I would not have blamed them, at all. They honestly considered it, but did not want to make my life harder at school or my sisters’ who were younger and might have the same teachers after me. This was definitely the right decision.

Over time, I have blocked out most of the memories and I have forgotten huge pieces. Every now and then my parents will say something about it and I will have no clue what they are referencing. For example, ater school, I used to come home, curl up in a ball under the table and cry. I did not remember this at first. However, I remembered how much I hated it and how I felt worthless. It killed my spirit.

It is not lost on me that I am one of the lucky ones. I have a wonderful family that saw me through it all and fostered my personality which wants to prove people wrong rather than accept that they are right. What if I had not been so lucky? My family and my personality gave me an advantage for which I am very grateful.

I thought about sending my teachers a copy of my Ph.D. when I completed it and I even told my parents that. We decided they would take credit and it was not worth it. What was so frustrating about this was that they were not wrong. That experience is a huge piece of the puzzle as to how I have gotten here (along with finding the right medication). What I have learned though is that it is not due to those teachers it is in spite of them.

Living with ADHD but persisting

Some of the memories still hurt, I will not lie. I still every now and then tear up and have a long way to go. It is hard when I see a parent or teacher frustrated with a student with ADHD because of my own history. I am concerned when people make comments about ADHD not being real, to just get over it, or that it is ridiculous. Not to mention, it became so over-diagnosed that the pendulum swung back toward the direction of people not believing ADHD was real anymore, which is also frustrating. It is an open wound I have been trying to heal for years. However, I am not sure it has to heal. I am learning to be grateful for the lessons and gifts such as being better at relating to the kids I work with because of my experiences. As a result, I am working to carry my scars as a badge of honor rather than a curse.

For now, I leave you with a thought to do your best to never kill a child’s spirit. Lift them up. Love them. It is not my teachers’ fault. In retrospect, their knowledge, information, and understanding were limited and they operated within those limitations. Schools are constantly strapped for resources and doing the best they can. Now it is my job to advocate for kids in positions similar to mine. It is my job to help educate people. I am going to choose, every day, to push the rest aside and lead with love. ADHD is my blessing- even on my worst day.