The Relief of Diagnosis

I have a lot to fill everyone in on (a few years at least), and it will come in time. But right now, this is what I need to share. Because for the first time in my whole life, I finally feel like I understand who I am enough to finally accept myself. And that's a beautiful thing. 

Those of you who follow me on Instagram probably know me the best right now. After taking a Facebook hiatus after cancer, and then not being able to log back in (I need to figure that out at long last), IG has become my social media home. And if you've been following me for a while, you know that last year around this time, I had a major mental breakdown. 

It's taken me nearly a year of intensive therapy to get to where I am now - hopeful again, renewed sense of purpose and, as I stated above, an understanding of myself that I've never had in my nearly 45 years of living. I have a good couple years left in therapy to feel like I'm secure in the healing I've started; but compared to last year at this time - when I was filled with anguish, anxiety, and suicidal ideation, not to mention a deep executive dysfunction that frightened the living daylights out of me - I feel better than I have since I was at least 16 years old. I'm not well yet; I just feel better.

I'll delve into the details of the breakdown and everything else in future posts, but right now, especially in light of May being Mental Health Awareness Month, I want to talk about what finally made that change happen. That thing that clicked for me and made me feel there was enough forward momentum to make it through. I've survived rape, autoimmune disease, assault, advanced cancer, and said mental breakdown, so I know I'm strong. That part I finally believe. But nothing made me feel like I would ever stop spinning in the mire of severe anxiety, major depression, and a general sense of WHAT THE FUCK IS WRONG WITH ME??? for the rest of my life.

Until five weeks ago.

That was when I finally got confirmation of what I'd wondered for years, the answer to all my questions (well... only one, really: Why am I like this?!), the diagnosis that made me understand who I am and removed the stagnation I've been treading in for years. 

I was diagnosed with Attention Deficit Hyperactivity Disorder (ADHD), Combined.

(I just let out the biggest sigh of relief and empowerment as I typed that, I kid you not.)

This diagnosis is added to my others of Major Depressive Disorder, Generalized Anxiety Disorder NOS, and Premenstrual Dysphoric Disorder (PMDD). And, as I hope to share whenever I'm able to write about this topic (look at me! Already coping because I understand my brain better!), you will learn how these are all comorbidities of ADHD - meaning, they frequently go hand in hand with that dx. 

Last year's breakdown (also an unfortunate comorbidity for us ADHDers, but we won't dwell on that right now) was pretty much a collision of all of these at once, more than likely brought on by the stress, uncertainty, and pressures of the pandemic.

Now that I know I have a neurodivergent/neuro-atypical brain, I can look back on May 2020 as that fascinatingly odd but AMAZING brain short-circuiting because, "Uhhhh... what the actual fuck is happening right now?" 

NOT, "Kimberly, you are batshit crazy."

And believe me, just knowing that part alone has helped my mood by leaps and bounds! My anxiety is still very much present, but I'm not so sure I'd be me without it, haha. Seriously though, just knowing my brain processes things differently (not incorrectly) has helped me understand why I broke down, and that I can be fixed. I'm not broken, like I thought I was last year. And my mood has been on a steady uptick ever since.

Because nothing can make you feel more broken than severe executive dysfunction on top of going through a major depressive episode. And nothing can help you feel less depressed than knowing you are not at fault for any of it.

I thought I was done for, I really did. I had never in my life felt so inadequate and incapable of life. I could see I was drowning, but I couldn't see a way out or a way to get help because I didn't think I deserved it if I couldn't function like a normal person. 

But that's where I - and MANY adults who don't receive their ADHD dx until later in life - are mistaken. We are never going to function like "normal" people. We're not wired that way. We just have to figure out how to live in a neurotypical world with neuro-atypical brains. We're not broken. I'm not broken. Just... different.

I couldn't accept being broken. That hurt too much, fully knowing what I've done and what I'm capable of. Especially after having fought for 19 months to beat Stage 3 breast cancer and living to tell the tale! But I can accept being different. I can absolutely work with that, because I've known it and felt it all my life. I just didn't know to what extent and the underlying reasons why.

I want to wrap this up soon, so I will just address a couple more points and leave more of the details of what ADHD really is, what it's not, what it's like living with it, the comorbidities with other mental health conditions, etc. for future posts. Otherwise, this will turn into an epic, and I don't want to lose your focus on this because it is so important for me to share and educate others about this. (Longtime PGEW readers, y'all know I can go there!)

I mentioned my diagnosis ADHD Combined. What this means is I'm basically greedy and didn't want to choose between the two major categories of ADHD - Hyperactive and Inattentive. I have both. I originally thought I was more on the inattentive side, but the more I observe myself through these new, clearer lenses, I see why I was given the "combined" suffix because the hyperactivity is so there. This goes well beyond my bouncy knee, folks. My mind is always racing!

I also keep alluding to how my diagnosis came "later in life". I'm only 44.7 years old, so I don't consider myself old at all and, therefore, will not say "late" in life. But for diagnostic purposes? For living life TOTALLY confused by a lot of myself and skating by the best I could, always wondering what was going on but too afraid to ask? HELLA FUCKING LATE.

You see, I had a couple things working against me in this department. First off, I'm 44.7 years old. When I was in elementary and junior high school, there wasn't the kind of attention and screening given to those kids who were ridiculously smart like me, but not necessarily like the others. Second, I'm a girl. Er, was a girl. Not only was there not enough screening for things like ADHD, autism, or even learning disabilities - these aren't things they looked for in girls back then.

The picture most people have in their minds of someone with ADHD is a young or teenaged boy, unable to sit still, goofing off and bouncing off the walls. ADHD presents itself quite differently in girls, and in women as we grow older. Many of us are slightly more in our heads, we "space out" or live in our own little worlds, overcompensating for the inability to focus by hyperfocusing on something else, and a strong propensity for perfectionism. 

Soooo different, right?!

The few teachers that kind of noticed I was an odd little creature didn't quite understand what they were witnessing, and my parents just seized on the fact that they had a super smart daughter and didn't think anything was "wrong". None of them did anything wrong by not getting me screened; they just didn't know any better. (My high school college counselor, on the other hand, who basically told me I was "full of potential, but they only way [I was] going to get anywhere in life was through the back door," was just a full-on bitch. Who says that?! Especially a college counselor!)

Even in high school, when things really started to become more obvious, and instead of paying attention in sophomore honors English, I wrote a crime novel (300+ pages of binder paper, back-to-back, in blue Bic Erasable Ink, baby!) - even that teacher didn't know quite what to do or say. I was just different. She knew I could write; she just wished I would have given Wide Sargasso Sea more of a chance.

So... yeah. 

There were clearly signs of something that needed to be addressed early on. But because we still live in a male-centric world and 20-30 years ago, we didn't know what we know today about these conditions and their signs, I slipped through the cracks.

This is why it's so important to receive these diagnoses even when you're an adult. Because trust me... after decades of going through life knowing you're different but never knowing why, and struggling to fit into a world and society that never took your kind of mind into consideration, you begin to wither a little. Or, like me, you break after a while. It really takes its toll on you.

But once you understand why you are the way you are, and that you've done nothing wrong - even if you still have to figure out ways around it, either with medication or coping skills/therapy, and you wish you'd known these things sooner - at least you know you're okay. You're not broken. And you feel validated, which is so important for everyone. 

Because at the end of the day, we just want to be understood, no matter what our problems or idiosyncrasies may be. We want to know that while some of us have to do things differently to get through this thing called life (thank you, Prince), our experiences are just as valid as the next person's. Our very existence isn't wrong, it's just different.

And there's no better feeling than finally understanding that for yourself.

Photo credit: IG @lifeinthefastbrain