#am i reflecting my own untreated adhd here?

[lightningmonarchda3]

possible tw: mention of someone thinking they're gonna get raped/hurt

hc that after a few years that sirius was sent to azkaban, remus finds a homeless teenager around 14/15ish. and his brain goes, 'i don' t really have anything to offer, but at least i can give them a place to sleep and protect them from the cold'

it takes a while for the kid to come around and actually go and stay at remus's flat bc they were on their gaurd and thought remus was gonna hurt or raped them.

after a few weeks that remus and the kid have gotton closer, remus realises that a lot of the stuff that Kid does is so much like sirius's. and he asks them and they replay with, "oh, im adhd" and they sit remus down and explain to them what adhd is and makes remus do some research himself.

and all this time, remus is having a full on crisis bc he has learned there's a high chance that sirius also had adhd, the impulsive and reckless urges, the insecurities, the specific chaos that he used to thrive in (anything except that chaos would drive him mad), the lack of motivation and energy, thinking that he's a "lost cause" and a "fuck up", his depressive episodes, all the things he was obsessed over, the emotional attachment to that mug, that plate, that soft animal, that necklace, that book, those records, the times he would have meltdowns/breakdowns over the things others viewed as 'simple' (including remus himself), not understanding remus's tone sometimes and having that horrible subdrop after a bdsm scene, some of their fights, and so on...

it all was fucking adhd...

[jackiestarsister]

I believe I've found another neurodivergent fictional character: Helen Burns in Jane Eyre. The way she describes herself and compares herself to people like Jane and their teachers is an excellent illustratration of typical symptoms of untreated ADHD.

Here is Helen and Jane's conversation in Chapter 6, with significant symptoms underlined by me:

“You say you have faults, Helen: what are they? To me you seem very good.” “Then learn from me, not to judge by appearances: I am, as Miss Scatcherd said, slatternly; I seldom put, and never keep, things in order; I am careless; I forget rules; I read when I should learn my lessons; I have no method; and sometimes I say, like you, I cannot bear to be subjected to systematic arrangements. This is all very provoking to Miss Scatcherd, who is naturally neat, punctual, and particular.” “And cross and cruel,” I added; but Helen Burns would not admit my addition: she kept silence. “Is Miss Temple as severe to you as Miss Scatcherd?” At the utterance of Miss Temple’s name, a soft smile flitted over her grave face. “Miss Temple is full of goodness; it pains her to be severe to any one, even the worst in the school: she sees my errors, and tells me of them gently; and, if I do anything worthy of praise, she gives me my meed liberally. One strong proof of my wretchedly defective nature is, that even her expostulations, so mild, so rational, have not influence to cure me of my faults; and even her praise, though I value it most highly, cannot stimulate me to continued care and foresight.” “That is curious,” said I, “it is so easy to be careful.” “For you I have no doubt it is. I observed you in your class this morning, and saw you were closely attentive: your thoughts never seemed to wander while Miss Miller explained the lesson and questioned you. Now, mine continually rove away; when I should be listening to Miss Scatcherd, and collecting all she says with assiduity, often I lose the very sound of her voice; I fall into a sort of dream. Sometimes I think I am in Northumberland, and that the noises I hear round me are the bubbling of a little brook which runs through Deepden, near our house;—then, when it comes to my turn to reply, I have to be awakened; and having heard nothing of what was read for listening to the visionary brook, I have no answer ready.” “Yet how well you replied this afternoon.” “It was mere chance; the subject on which we had been reading had interested me. This afternoon, instead of dreaming of Deepden, I was wondering how a man who wished to do right could act so unjustly and unwisely as Charles the First sometimes did; and I thought what a pity it was that, with his integrity and conscientiousness, he could see no farther than the prerogatives of the crown. If he had but been able to look to a distance, and see how what they call the spirit of the age was tending! Still, I like Charles—I respect him—I pity him, poor murdered king! Yes, his enemies were the worst: they shed blood they had no right to shed. How dared they kill him!” Helen was talking to herself now: she had forgotten I could not very well understand her—that I was ignorant, or nearly so, of the subject she discussed. I recalled her to my level. “And when Miss Temple teaches you, do your thoughts wander then?” “No, certainly, not often; because Miss Temple has generally something to say which is newer than my own reflections; her language is singularly agreeable to me, and the information she communicates is often just what I wished to gain.” “Well, then, with Miss Temple you are good?” “Yes, in a passive way: I make no effort; I follow as inclination guides me. There is no merit in such goodness.”

That last clue points to the self-deprecation and lack of confidence or self-worth that can result from having ADHD (or other similar conditions).

[en-somniac]

Some Words From A Former IB Student

Apparently, despite having graduated high school two years ago, I still follow IB tags on here, and a lot of the posts that have been popping up have been... reminding me of my own experiences. I wanted to write these down as a way to help current IB students or future IB students who feel as isolated, lost and absolutely destroyed as I did for large portions of my experience.

If you aren’t interested in listening to someone ramble about a somewhat uncommon high school speciality program, please skip.

Some background here: I graduated Spring of 2018 with my IB diploma and my Ontario Secondary School Diploma, but I actually started off with international baccalaureate back in grade 7. Yeah, you can start that early. I went to a rather expensive private school and one of their talking points was that they used the IB program all the way through. So they not only ran the diploma program (what most people will experience), but also the primary years program and the middle years program. I did the middle years program and the diploma program. So prior to starting DP, I had already completed a handful of assignments and various works for my MYP program, including the personal project, which is a hell unto itself but at least lets you be creative. And then, in 2016, I started DP, where I took HL Literature, HL Visual Arts, HL History, SL Mathematics, SL Chemistry and SL French. Which is an absolutely bizarre spread, I’ll be honest. I also went into DP with undiagnosed ADHD, undiagnosed and untreated severe anxiety, severe social anxiety, depression and a handful of sensory processing issues that came bundled in with ADHD.

So yeah. I did not start IB off well. I also went into grade 12/year 2 with a predicted 26 points, which is only two points above the minimum. So that was fun.

However, I managed it. I got through IB and I have the diploma to prove it (at least, my dad does. It’s currently back home instead of in my University apartment). 

And so.. here are a few things I needed to hear, and I think others need to hear.

1. IB is NOT an accurate reflection of university.

I should know. I’m in third year. Some aspects are very similar - you are expected to manage readings and extra work outside of class and for many humanities subjects, your lecture times may be filled with discussions. You are expected to have a fairly decent course load. Depending on your program, there may be overarching projects or assignments similar to the extended essay. However. IB scoring can give you an incredibly warped perspective on grades. For many IB students, getting a 3 or a 4 can be incredibly stressful. But to put it into perspective - a 3 is a 70-76 percent. A 4 is a 77-83 percent.

To reference my Sensory and Perception Psych course from this term, my university considers a 70-79 to be good work. Meets all requirements and is satisfactory above that. They count it as a B.

IB scoring gives you an absolutely terrible perspective on grades, and this will cause you an insane amount of stress starting university if you aren’t prepared. You need to recalibrate your concept of “good” grades, for your own mental wellbeing.

2. IB requires you to be constantly working. And it isn’t healthy. 

I’m a third year student and I work a part time job, typically 10-20 hours a week, on top of currently taking the maximum amount of classes I can per term (5) and I am still doing less work than I was in IB. 

Ib may cause you to experience stress when you have free time where you feel like you should be doing something. And this can be absolutely draining for your mental wellbeing, and make your time off be less of a relaxation time and more of a mental hell. You need time off. IB does not teach you that in any way, and so I’m so sorry to say that it is up to you to learn how to enjoy free time.

You need to learn to give yourself a break.

3. It’s... okay if you fail.

Its not the end of the world if you don’t get your diploma. It’s not the end of the world if you do poorly on the exams.

If you can get your high school diploma, you’re doing fantastic. Failing IB will not kill you. It’ll be upsetting, yes, but you’ll get past it. This isn’t something to put all of your wellbeing into.

Please, please, do not put all of your self worth into IB.

It is not worth it.

Talk to your teachers. Talk to your school councilors. Talk to your friends, and parents if they’re willing to listen. Do not be trapped in that headspace where you feel like you have to succeed, or the world will end.

Most university students get in without IB. It is a boost, yes, but you can get in and complete university completely successfully without IB.

It is not worth destroying your wellbeing over. 

[goddess-complex]

a revelation:

i blamed myself for all of my failures and tried my absolute hardest not to repeat my mistakes. Why wasn’t I doing well in school? I knew I was smart enough, I cared enough -GOD did I care- so why was I having all of these problems?

I wasn’t failing outright, but I wasn’t the prodigy it seemed like I was supposed to be. I had lots friends and wasn’t getting into trouble so no one really cared to look into why I was getting Cs instead of As. I started looking into ADHD and everything clicked. over the past few years I’ve come to understand myself in the context of my history and upbringing because i needed to heal and recover.

i had all of the symptoms of bpd in children - precocious, intense, unable to self-soothe and self-regulate emotions - but somehow my parents decided that they were going to take the actions of a 6 year old child personally and try to stomp out everything I was instead of trying to learn to parent me in the way I needed to be parented.

my entire childhood is a fucking wound. I didn’t learn the basic emotional hygiene children are supposed to learn and here we are, years later, and I’m supposed to be a functional human being??

I was born “sick” and it’s not my fault at all, but my parents failed me so badly it’s become my responsibility to heal myself retroactively.

I was born knowing who and what I was and I’ve NEVER lost that. I raised myself, diagnosed myself, treated myself. Everything I am, I am because of my own tenacity and intelligence. I have never relied on another human being for emotional support. I never learned how. I have the sharpest tongue and I can be incredibly cruel. that’s how I protected myself as a child.

At home I was the black sheep, but in school I was golden. I was polite and intelligent and teachers loved me.

My mother used to tell me that I was a liar and a faker because no one knew who I really was. I’m bad and mean at my core and only pretend to be sweet and helpful and good for other people. She said, no one would like me if they knew who I really was. How do you say that to a child? Even more- how can you expect me not to hate you and hate myself?

But I never learned to hate myself. I probably could’ve been diagnosed as ADHD and/or early BPD and taught how to regulate my emotions. But untreated, it developed into chronic anxiety, depression, uncertainty, feeling like everyone else hated me.

It is against my nature to hate myself, so I subconsciously projected all of my self doubt and hatred on to the people around me.

Seven years of therapy didn’t teach me shit only reinforced everything my mother said because she found the therapists, forced me to go. That is, until they inevitably started to give HER criticism, then she dropped them and found a new one, who would tell me what SHE wanted to me to hear: “you are bad and wrong and I and good and right.”

Therapy didn’t help me at all. Independent research and self reflection allowed me to come to these conclusions.

I’ve forgiven my parents. I understand them, even though they have no idea who I am.

I am SO fucking proud of myself.