#i already went through with the self diagnosis process with my adhd and i got diagnosed officially in 2020

[adhbabey]

really. truly. how insecure do you have to be to assume other self diagnosed people MUST be wrong. How insecure, indecisive, uncertain and confused do you have to be to be struggling with your own self worth and your own confidence, that you project your insecurities, your fears, your mistakes of being wrong, onto other people.

How desperately afraid of failure are you, that you struggle to understand why other people, through deliberation and analysis, may believe that they are right with their self diagnosis. That they have the confidence to say that what they believe is actually true?

We don't need to show you our imposter syndrome, our struggles with acceptance, our identity crisis, our inklings of something amiss, our education on the subject, for you to respect and accept us. We don't need you to question or to psychoanalyze me. I don't need you to demand explanations of me. Because it's none of your fucking business, and it never will be.

I honestly don't care if I'm being rude or offensive or socially inept, maybe that should be expected from someone with pervasive social issues. I don't care if my self diagnosis is good enough for you. It's real and true to me. And if you have a problem with that, you can shove it up your ass.

[blazehedgehog]

Do you ever think of yourself as being on the ASD? Up until the past few years (I'm 25 now), I never considered the possibility but as I delved deeper I identified with a lot of common behaviors (obsession, preferring isolation, social issues/anxiety, pickiness) and explained why I found it so difficult to assimilate in high school.

I’ve occasionally wondered, but there are a lot of things that kind of go against the grain of that kind of diagnosis. The few symptoms I exhibit of ASD also overlap with something that’s far more likely, and that’s that I probably have ADHD.

I had two or three teachers growing up try to convince my Mom that I had ADHD and that I needed to be medicated for it. My Mom refused to believe them, because back in the early 90′s, the traditional definition of ADHD included hyperactivity, and I was not a classically hyperactive kid. The image of ADD kids back then was being unable to sit still, unable to stop acting out. ADD kids were loud and grabby and uncontrollable, which I definitely was not.

We understand a lot more about the condition now and even though you should never self-diagnose, I’m 99% sure I have ADHD. My inability to focus on one singular hobby (hi, I’m an artist, game developer, sound engineer, youtuber, streamer, and writer), my extremely selective and poor memory, my inability to switch tracks and get motivated on something else after my mind is already set, my utter impatience for certain things, etc.

My isolation and social issues can be explained simply by my depression more than ASD, I think. I’ve talked about this before but I fell apart in high school. Things happened to me in middle school; I had bullies that acted like my friends, they did some deeply horrible things to me, and it completely destroyed my ability to trust anyone for decades. To some degree, it still persists to this very day. It just... wrecked me, in a way that’s hard to describe, and harder to even comprehend. I stopped showering. I stopped brushing my teeth. I just gave up on taking care of myself. I’ve blocked most of the memories out because of trauma coping mechanisms; I only know some of these things because other people have told me they happened. It really was that bad.

I had a really bad stretch of like, five years, from around 13 years old to 17 or 18, maybe even 19. I did eventually get away from those bullies in high school, but the combination of self-loathing they left me with combined with my ADHD and the mounting anxiety problems I was developing meant I coasted through an entire semester of algebra class absorbing absolutely nothing and I got a failing grade. Friends (new ones) dared me to skip one class with them for fun, and I figured “Well I’m doing bad in algebra anyway, so yeah, I’ll skip with you and go to the bowling alley.”

And that started the snowball. I became unmoored from the routine of school, which can be a big problem when you have ADHD. Skipping algebra every now and then became always skipping algebra. Then I started skipping gym too, because getting undressed in front of the other kids in the locker room was an introvert nightmare. Skipping two classes turned in to skipping three. Then four. Then all classes. Who cares, right? I couldn’t muster up the interest, especially when I realized I had no idea what the current lesson plan was anymore.

My girlfriend dumped me. The school waited until the start of my senior year to pull me aside and inform me that it was impossible for me to graduate under any circumstances (the first and only sign of disapproval they had shown me in three and a half years). My internet friends were yelling at me. I lost touch with my real-life friends. I had massive, gigantic, reality-ending panic attacks that left me too paralyzed to leave my room even to go to the bathroom. I teetered on the edge of having a nervous breakdown. I lost over 100lbs, leaving me nothing more than skin and bones. The mountain of stress I was feeling was taking a toll on my health.

I shut down. Closed myself off to the outside world. Ryan did not exist anymore. And for something like a decade, that’s how I lived. My only human contact was with immediate family (when they could drag me out in to the sunlight against my will) and with a core group of shrinking internet friends. The few that did not lose respect for me, anyway.

That does things to you. The parts of your brain that knew how to socialize atrophy and you forget how to hold a conversation. When I was still going to school, my cousin and I told each other we should become therapists, because we were excellent at listening to people and being mediators. We could fix anyone’s problems. Now, those skills died inside of me. I went from being able to make anyone feel better to constantly sticking my foot in my mouth. Being a nuisance, even when I wasn’t trying to be. I lost all sense of what was appropriate to say, or how to convey my feelings. Or convey anything outside of a keyboard, really. I made a lot of people angry and upset totally by accident, or pushed them away without realizing what I was even doing.

And all of these bad habits fed in to each other like an endless loop. It was a slippery slope that steeply went down, and down, and down. The more isolated I became, the more I wanted to isolate even more. The shame and embarrassment for who I was becoming kept getting stronger. I was caught in a spiral.

I was getting close enough that I could see where the bottom of the barrel was. I call myself introverted, but I’m also the guy who, completely of his own volition, downloaded the Shoutcast Server software in September of 2000 and hosted an all-night live internet radio broadcast. Alone. I was livestreaming myself playing video games for the internet four years before Twitch.tv was even invented. Whenever it came time to read aloud in class, I was always one of the best, clearest students, never needing to sound out words or pause for anything. Nowadays I'd never say I was anything but an introvert, but deep down there’s also been a voice inside of me dying to get out, and at some point I woke up and realized I could be better. I just need less fear and more confidence.

The person you see writing this blog today is the result of finally starting to become aware of what I was doing to myself, and forcibly dragging myself back out in to the world, inch by inch. I don’t think it’s going very well, but at least I’m still making an effort. I fell apart in to many small pieces, and they’re taking a long time to reassemble. I finally graduated high school about five years ago. (I re-read that post a few months ago and started crying.) As you may pick up on from the differences between that post and this one, I’m still learning a lot about myself and what’s wrong with me. The picture is always becoming clearer by the day.

But knowing the problem means you can find the solution, right? That’s what you’re doing, too.  It’s a slow process, but I continue the fight to heal the damage I’ve done to myself.

Anyway, sorry for getting so randomly heavy and spilling my guts out like this. I appreciate people looking out for me like this. And who knows, maybe I am on the spectrum after all. Just because I have my own theories doesn't mean they're necessarily right.

[radicalposture]

Hey, so were you diagnosed with autism/adhd as an adult? If you don't mind me asking, was that difficult to achieve? I'm 25, and I've often thought I might have adhd, but I've held off on looking into it because I hear it's extremely difficult and expensive to get it tested and diagnosed as an adult.

yes I only got diagnosed last october, I was 25 then too! it was kind of a weird journey for me, all of my siblings and my dad got diagnosed with autism or adhd one after the other and I was still saying “but I can’t really be autistic/adhd” right up until I actually got diagnosed lol. but since then my whole life suddenly makes sense for the first time and I really think things are gonna be ok! this applies to autism/adhd/other neurodiverse stuff but autism and adhd is what I know, but I hope it applies broadly as well

so unfortunately yes, it can be pretty expensive to get through the whole process. depends on where you live of course, I live in Ireland so even though we do have public healthcare I would probably have been on a waiting list for upwards of two years to see a terrible psychologist who didn’t know anything about adhd/autism so I went to a private psychologist. I already knew her pretty well bc my siblings had been to her and I knew she knew what she was talking about and I felt comfortable with her. seeing her cost me around €900 which is definitely a lot, different psychologists have different rates but the price can go up depending on what tests u get done. the more tests you do the more expensive it will be as a general rule (at the same time I saw a different psychologist who had a lower flat rate so idk what the “rules” are about this tbh) I got a standard assessment as well as autism and adhd tests which is why it was so expensive. it used up pretty much all my savings lmao but after getting a diagnosis I was able to apply for disability allowance (which was a hellish process) and I got rejected and had to appeal the decision but I got it in the end, which is fortunate bc I quit my job lol.

recently I wanted to look into medication so I had to go to a psychiatrist because you can’t get a prescription for stimulant medication from a gp in most countries I think? BUT he’d only see me if I got rediagnosed by his psychologist, so that was another €300 for each of them. I did get prescribed ritalin in the end but I’ll have to get the prescription refilled a few times a year bc it’s a restricted medication, which will mean paying €100 ish for each time I do. fortunately I don’t actually have to pay for the medication itself bc I have a medical card.

so yes, it can be expensive! all told it’s cost me almost €2000 to get it all sorted and will keep costing me maybe €300 a year from now on, so it’s definitely something you have to budget for. especially depending on where you live, I imagine things are v different from country to country. also I’m very fortunate bc I still live with my family so I’m free of some financial pressure and I’d been saving for it for a while but I know how hard it is to countenance paying out that kind of money, and wondering whether it’s worth it.

as to whether it’s difficult to achieve I think you’ve got to break it down because official diagnosis is only part of it. so if you think you do have ADHD I’d look at it from a couple of different angles:

1. self acceptance/understanding is absolutely the most important thing. I know people who’ve never been to a psych who know they’re autistic/adhd and really flourish, I also know people who have official diagnoses but who won’t accept it themselves and reject help/support and they’re making things so hard for themselves. so the most important thing is to educate yourself about what adhd means and, more importantly, what it means for you. everyone’s brain is different and understanding exactly how your brain works and why you think/behave the way you do is the most important thing you can do. there are a lot of resources out there, especially online, - I’ll put a link to a google drive of books and things I have at the bottom - and it can be good to connect with others online as well. having people who Get It and can help you is really paramount, I know often our irl families/friends can sometimes let us down so sometimes the only support you can get is from following ppl on twitter or something. the adhd subreddit is weirdly helpful and supportive, it’s great to be able to throw out a question like “I think like this am I insane y/n” and have other people go “nah ur fine” it’s very validating (also validation/external perspectives is super important for adhd bc we can be extremely bad at self assessment). so yes, the most important thing is firstly to know thyself by 1) educating yourself and 2) listening/connecting with others like u.

2. is it important to have an “official” diagnosis? no and yes. obviously you don’t need a diagnosis from a doctor to know what you are, and 70% of the things needed to help you flourish are going to come from your own research and the support systems you make. and if you cant afford or access a psychologist or psychiatrist it doesn’t make it any less real or bar you from educating yourself/accessing resources etc. HOWEVER. if you can get a good diagnosis then I really would go for it, bc: 1) it opens a LOT of doors to official resources, whether that’s access to welfare, supports and accommodations at school or college, medication, etc etc. a lot of the time the supports we need are behind this diagnostic paywall, which sucks but it is what it is :/ so that’s one consideration. 2) it can be really validating and help set your mind at ease about whether you “really” have adhd or if you’re “faking”. like I said I didn’t believe that I was “allowed” to be autistic before I got diagnosed. I also didn’t consider that I might have adhd, I went in thinking I’d just get the autism diagnosis so it wasn’t something I would have found out on my own probably. so it can be good to get an outside opinion, especially as, like I said, we can be really bad at self assessment. 3) it feels good to know you have a piece of paper to throw at rude family members/teachers/doctors who don’t believe it’s real 4) if you can find a good psychiatrist/psychologist it can be such a good thing to have that support and to get genuinely good advice from a professional you trust. doesn’t always happen but if u can find one it’s a godsend

wow this got long. to summarise, if you think you have adhd or anything else I would

research and educate yourself. for adhd probably the best thing to do is read driven to distraction and delivered from distraction, written by two psychiatrists who are adhd themselves. they’re both in this google drive along with loads of other resources I’ve collected, there’s also books about autism as well. as a disclaimer not everything/everyone here has my 100% endorsement some of it is there for academic/historical interest or only parts are helpful but by and large it’s useful. also watch this video and feel Seen

look for a good psychologist/psychiatrist if you’re going for a diagnosis. see if there’s an adhd organisation in your country/area and if they can recommend anyone. a lot of the time you’re better going to a child/educational psychologist who’ll see adult clients as they tend to Get It more. do look for someone who is clear about having experience in adult adhd bc unfortunately even qualified psychologists get a LOT wrong so make sure you get someone who knows what they’re doing before you give them your money

yes it can be really expensive. but if you’re needing to access things like medication or welfare I think it’s well worth the trouble and the money. my sister got diagnosed in her second year of college and was able to save her degree bc of extensions on projects and things like that (I didn’t get diagnosed until after college and spent four years torturing myself I WISH I had known) and it can be something that’s better done sooner rather than later. So if it’s something you can do without putting yourself in financial danger I think it’s good to bite the bullet and go for it. like I used up basically all my savings BUT I now can access disability payments and medication so it was worth it for me. it’ll be different for everyone so use your judgement obviously

anyway hope this helped! let me know if you need anything else! and good luck on your journey

[necrowriter]

monday thing: april 27th (the myriad challenges of growing)

it is the last Monday in April, warm and sunny today after a cool, wet weekend. many of the trees in the back woods were hit badly by a late, hard frost, which has made the view outside my window look oddly like early hot autumn. there are so many young green leaves gone brown and dead. the poplar tree in particular is all over brown and I worry about it. but today there is a lot of green out there glowing soft in the sun, so I will take that as a good sign.

it seems like a good day to think about gardening.

for a lot of my life I have thought of myself as having a black thumb, unable to grow anything. I kept plants in my dorm rooms all throughout college, lined up on sunny windowsills and carefully packed back and forth at the end of every semester. some of them lasted longer than others, but they all died in the end. I still remember bemoaning the loss of a mint plant to a friend and getting the incredulous response how did you kill mint?

during my last semester I had a labor position at the college greenhouses. for reasons too lengthy and bothersome to go into here, I had to stay on an extra semester in the fall and graduated in December. also for entirely different reasons too lengthy and bothersome to go into here, I was determined to not spend that semester working in the same place I'd been in for the last several semesters. the greenhouses weren't my first choice, but it was the first one that was willing to accept someone coming in new for only one semester.

bit of a misnomer, that: the 'greenhouses' were one glass greenhouse, several plastic hoop houses, and a few assorted small fields, along with a processing and packing building; a small shed-like building with a bathroom, an office, a sink and a fridge where we kept water bottles and a pitcher of gatorade; and a clearing in the woods that was home to a truly enormous amount of compost-in-progress. they grew produce and herbs, which were either sold locally or used by the college cafeteria.

working there left an impression on me, I think.

it was hard work, and I'm not a very physically sturdy kind of person. I also have no tolerance for heat, and more of that semester was hot than it wasn't; it was worst at the beginning, in late August, where I often found myself out working in the mid-90s, a temperature range I can barely abide sitting still in. even when the hottest days were past, that tail-end of summer clung on tight for a long time afterward. days warm enough to need a cold wet bandanna tied around my head popped up well into November.

it brought out a fear in me that is rarely far away: of falling behind, being lazy, not being up to the task. I was sure that I would find myself getting told off for not working hard enough, or accused of shirking. but it didn't happen.

"it is pretty hot out here," my supervisor said when I started getting sick on one of my first days on the job, out picking tomatoes with her in one of the fields. "you better go sit in the truck for a bit and drink some water. don't pass out on me."

I sat in the truck and drank some water, and did not pass out. we finished picking the tomatoes, and went back and sat outside the office-shed and drank cold gatorade. never in my life had gatorade tasted so good.

the other thing I discovered was that I liked gardening.

it seems a bit of a cliche but I was surprised to find how much satisfaction I got from watching seeds that I had planted start to sprout, or helping harvest enough butternut squash to fill up the back of the pickup truck. I worked through podcasts and audio books while weeding plots in the hoop houses or washing and boxing sweet potatoes alone in the packing house on a cold Saturday morning. I helped plant things, and water things, and pick things. it was hard sometimes, but I was able to do it.

then I graduated, packed up the houseplants from my dorm room windowsill, and went home, and watched them die.

well, I suppose a part of it's this: when you're having a hard enough time looking after yourself, it's perhaps not surprising to find yourself struggling to look after anything else as well.

sometimes it's easier. sometimes you need to look after something else; sometimes watching something else grow gives you what you just don't get from the care and keeping of your own self. but sometimes it just becomes another task on a list that already feels too long to bear.

but there have been other obstacles, and it's only in looking back now that I'm starting to piece together what they were.

so let's talk about ADHD and houseplants.

it wasn't something I knew I was dealing with while I cried over homework and watched my plants die on the windowsill in college. depression and anxiety, sure. I figured that much out well before I was ever actually diagnosed with either one. but ADHD was not a consideration at the time. sometimes I would look at a list of symptoms and think could it be...? but then I would shake my head, close the tab, and admonish myself that surely having ADHD did not look like getting straight As and showing up to all your classes on time, no matter how many anxiety spirals you went down at one in the morning.

so if I didn't realize ADHD was a problem there, you can bet I didn't realize it might have anything to do with the plants. I just kept admonishing myself over and over: come on, just remember to water them. is that really so hard? surely you can do it if you try.

when I finally got my diagnosis I started thinking: well. hm. maybe that explains something.

memory is the most obvious thing that comes to mind. remember to water them, or remember that you did water them so don't do it again now or they'll drown. remember to put this one out in the sun, and take that one away. did you repot that one like you were going to? no, you didn't, and it's been a week. have you ever fertilized any of these? lord! I'll do it when I've finished this paper. it's half past midnight. I'm going to bed.

etc.

but--like most things that have to do with ADHD, as I've been perpetually discovering the past two years--it's a bit more complicated than that.

you get a plant. you saw it at Lowe's, or Wal-Mart, or Trader Joe's, or the nursery while your mom was buying tomatoes, and you knew you probably shouldn't have, but you couldn't resist. you want to try again. you always want to try again. so now you have a plant, and you don't know much about gardening but you at least know that the tight little plastic pot it came in is probably not optimal growing conditions for anything, so you'd better do something about that.

only, you don't know what this particular plant needs and you don't have anyone on hand to ask. so you have to look it up. you google it. (if you're lucky enough to know what it is--if not, you have to find out, setting you back even further.) you find several websites with information about this plant. you open one. you stare at it. you go back and look at another one. you stare at that one for a while too. the information is not entering your brain. all of these websites seem to have slightly different information. you try to coalesce this mix of information into a series of steps you can follow and fail utterly. at this point you probably close your laptop and, now too frustrated to think about this anymore, decide you'll get back to this later.

(you probably will not.)

ADHD makes it hard to do anything that requires a series of steps. on bad days, this includes things like making lunch or taking a shower. you sit there thinking about how many different things you have to do to make a sandwich (get the bread out, get the peanut butter out, get a knife, get a plate, put the peanut butter on the bread, god, it never ends) and each step feels like its own task entirely and it's just too damn much to even think about so you sit there and scroll tumblr endlessly while getting progressively hungrier and crankier.

that difficulty increases tenfold if the steps required aren't clear to you. if you have to actually work out what they are yourself? and then go do them?

forget it!

and then--and then!--you have to retain that information. you have to remember for each plant: this is what it needs, and this is what I need to do and this is when I need to do it. the plant is not much help in this regard. the plant will not shout at you in the morning like a hungry cat, nor will it pop up a handy notification telling you when it is too dry or too wet or has had too much sun or not enough. certainly there are some indications it will give you--but you have to know how to read those, too, which brings us back to the first problem.

the amount of information you need to be able to keep in your head about a plant may not seem like very much. certainly it apparently isn't to many people, or we wouldn't have gardens in the first place. but ADHD doesn't tend to give you a choice about what knowledge you're going to be able to hold onto well enough for any of it to be useful. sometimes you can read up on something and then the moment you look away from the page, it's gone. sometimes you can take in the information, but will only be able to recall it at erratic times, which will almost never be when you actually need to do so. and sometimes you will absorb an astounding amount of information, but this will almost always be about something like Pokemon which has fairly limited applications for everyday life. if I could remember and reliably access as much information about my plants as I can about the making of the Lord of the Rings movies, I'd never be in this mess in the first place.

suffice to say, while remembering to water the dang things was a significant problem, it certainly wasn't the only one.

and that, I eventually realized, was why I could garden just fine at the college greenhouses, but couldn't seem to do so on my own. it wasn't--as I'd started to suspect--that I had some foul curse on me that killed everything I touched. I didn't radiate something that killed off any plants in my radius. and I wasn't incapable of doing the tasks required, or of understanding what those tasks were and why they were important. it was figuring it all out for myself, and then remembering it, that was getting in my way. when I showed up to work at the greenhouses, I was told what I needed to do that day, and if I didn't know how to do it, I'd be told that. and, barring the occasional problem of heat sickness or sensory overload while dumping food waste in the compost piles, I could go do the job just fine.

when I look back at that semester, I realize it didn't only teach me that I could do gardening, and get enjoyment out of it. one thing I will tell you about why I left my previous labor position: part of why I was miserable there is that I often wasn't given clear instructions--sometimes not any instructions--and thus spent a lot of time feeling miserably incompetent and behind everyone else. I'd have to choose between asking for clarification on something I seemed to be expected to know how to do, or risk doing it wrong and getting told off for it.

god bless my supervisor at the greenhouse! before giving me any new task she'd check to make sure I knew and fully understood what to do. she made it clear that I could ask questions, and if I did misunderstand something she didn't take me to task for it, just explained what I'd done wrong and how to do it right. it has become a valuable experience to have had as I am still trying to work out what I need to do things without so much pain and anguish over it.

when it comes to gardening, I don't have much in the way of answers yet. I don't know the secret key to dealing with all of these problems well enough to keep my houseplants alive and healthy. I'm still working on that. I'm sure there is an answer. I suspect it may involve a lot of writing things down, and possibly a lot of sticky notes with "WATER ME" written on them.

but I think--for all that I have tried and failed at this many times by now--

I think I'd like to try again.

so maybe I will plant some flowers this week.

and we will see what happens.

[i-am-not-anon]

Under the eye of an institution

part 6

Summary: Logan and Patton (both 16), the older students, are expected to look after two groups of freshmen in Watersouth boarding school for boys. Both of them despise the tradition of bullying that is subjected to the newcomers by older students. The two respectively get a student in their groups who is a little different from the ordinary crowd: Roman and Virgil (both 15).

Author’s note: Update, everybody! Now I realize how much work actually goes into writing all of this. There’s no base storyline for this kind of fic, at least I haven’t seen anybody else write a fic like this. So please be patient with the slow uploads! Message me for getting into the taglist, please.

Triggers: Bullying, abuse, violence, violent punishments, panic attacks, self-deprecation, name-calling, i n s t i t u t i o n

Other parts here

...

The next day, Logan went to his room right after classes, to analyze the results of the tests Roman had filled the last evening. After hours of work, he merged all his findings to one sheet.

Possible reasons behind Roman Pears’ behavior

adhd, combined: 74% probability

executive dysfunction: 61% probability

specific learning disabilities: 14% probability

bipolar: 19% probability

sensory processing disorders: 5% probability

autism%: 12% probability

anxiety: 43% probability

depression: 20% probability

Abstract:

Possible reasons for Roman Pears’ behavior and/or diagnosis for him would according to this study be ADHD combined type, executive dysfunction and anxiety, in the order of highest probability.

However, specific learning disabilities, bipolar, sensory processing disorders, autism and depression seem to be considered mostly irrelevant options according to this study.

Logan smiled to himself, placing the paper on his desk. He felt proud of the playful study he had conducted, and content about his findings. Though further studies were always needed, the tired older student decided he would just roll with the answers he had gotten for now. Trying to keep Roman on his desk for a couple hours when he was supposed to have free time was an experience he didn’t want to go through again very soon. Logan took a breath, deciding to go search for Patton to discuss about his findings before continuing with his actual homework.

….

Virgil walked to Patton, hiding his red eyes with both of his sweater paws. Patton shot up, hurrying closer to the sniffling boy. ”Virgil! Are you alright? What happened? Let’s go someplace quiet and talk for a bit, how does that sound?”

Virgil nodded, following Patton and trying to quiet his sobs with his hands as they walked past the other older boys. One of them yelled rudely after Virgil, but Patton’s deathly glare made the student shut up.

As the duo got outside of the building, Patton began speaking again. ”Let’s sit down right here,” he decided, pointing at a nice patch of grass. ”Can I hug you, Virgil?”

Virgil shook his head, still hiding behind his hands.

Patton felt a bit lost as he always wished to be held if he was feeling upset, but tried to think of other ways to help the panicking boy.

”Um.. We’re going to get through this,” he tried, but he didn’t believe his unconvinced tone himself either. He didn’t even know what happened yet.

”Let’s focus on breathing,” Patton figured, turning to face Virgil on the grass they were sitting on. ”Breathe with me. In…. and out.” … ”In… and out.”

Slowly but surely Virgil was able to calm down a bit. He didn’t want to stress anybody or cause any more trouble than necessary with his current problem, but he assumed Patton wouldn’t let him go before he would tell his tutor what was going on. And Patton was the only one in this crazy school he could possibly trust. Maybe. So Virgil tried his best to talk through the sniffles and stutter this stressful situation had made even worse.

”M-mm-m-isster B-b-b-br -r -ass,” Virgil was able to say, and Patton nodded seriously. ”Did he get mad at you again?”

Virgil nodded. ”Bu-b-b-but-t-t-t i-i-i-t’s-s-s wo-wo-wo-wo-wo-worse,” he grimaced, his hands moving back to hide his stressed expression and another wave of tears.

Patton frowned sadly. ”Hey, don’t worry. We can figure it out.” The older student noticed how Virgil was moving towards another panic attack. ”Let’s remember to breathe calmly. In.. and out.”

After Virgil was able to breathe again, he explained the whole situation to Patton at his own pace. Patton listened, trying not to panic himself as he heard the whole thing.

”So this group of boys convinced you to let them continue the accidental mispronunciation, and they are using it against the teacher in question,” Patton asked. Virgil nodded.

”And now Mr. Brass is accusing you of planning and creating all of this?”

Virgil nodded, breathing getting shallow again. Patton held his arms open for they boy, and Virgil sat little bit closer to lean his head on Patton’s shoulder. The younger boy muttered about not being able to tell the truth without revealing his only friends had the idea at first, and how they could get in trouble instead of him. Patton made sure to listen the whole thing patiently before interrupting. Virgil also told Mr. Brass had instructed the young student to tell his tutor, Patton, to spank him good. Patton sighed as he heard this.

”Maybe you knew already, but I will absolutely not do that to you,” the older student dismissed the instruction. ”I don’t think it would do any good in this situation. I have to admit, this is a tough puzzle to solve,” Patton had to pause as Virgil muttered a quick ’Sorry’.

”It was not your fault. We can figure this out, and if you give me permission, I can talk about it with my classmate who always seems to find a good answer to tough situations.

Virgil looked at his tutor quietly.

”Logan is the other tutor who refuses to use violent punishments,” Patton revealed and Virgil nodded in confirmation.

”Okay. I will brainstorm with him and you just try to stay safe, kiddo. Does that sound alright?”

Virgil nodded, drying his wet cheeks. A hint of smile could have been spotted on his face if looked very carefully.

….

Logan let out a relieved sigh as he found Patton walking in the library. ”I have been looking for you, Patton. I have some important news to discuss with you.”

Patton smiled at his friend. ”Me too! Where should we talk?”

The two tutors decided to sit at a quiet corner table of the library. They found themselves absorbing into the matter of trying to help their students to their best ability, and hours later, Logan glanced at the clock and realized they were almost late for dinner. Logan glanced at his notes of the conversation briefly before hurrying out of the library after Patton, seemingly satisfied with the amount of work they had gotten done.

Notes regarding the problems of Roman Pears and Virgil Glasgow

Virgil’s case:

cause: stutter and questionable acts of new friends

consequences: Mr. Brass accuses Virgil of making fun of him

possible solution 1: Virgil tells the truth to Mr. Brass

outcome 1: Virgil might lose his new friends and they would get punished

possible solution 2: Virgil tries to apologize to Mr. Brass

outcome 2: Mr. Brass might or might not accept the apology, Virgil is seen as a troublemaker

possible solution 3: Virgil tells his friends to stop the pranks

outcome 3: Friends might or might not obey, Virgil is seen as a coward

The best solution: unsure, demands further analysis

Roman’s case:

cause: possibly ADHD, executive dysfunction and anxiety

consequences: Roman’s irresponsible behavior, which causes him get in trouble frequently

Possible solution 1: Roman gets treatment to his disorders

outcome 1: Roman would have to move schools or wait for unknown amount of time, since there is no mental health professional available in Watersouth boarding school yet

possible solution 2: Roman learns to work with his disorders himself

outcome 2: Highly unlikely to work

possible solution 3: Logan and maybe also Roman’s teachers work with him to help him

outcome 3: teachers will be difficult to persuade, Logan will make mistakes since he is not qualified

The best solution: unsure, demands further analysis

Logan smiled, sliding the notebook to his backpack and following Patton to the cafeteria.

…

As Patton stepped to the cafeteria, a pair of students walking to the opposite direction almost stumbled onto him. ”Oh, sorry,” Patton stepped aside, now noticing that this was his classmate dragging a younger student by his collar. As Logan walked closer, the older student let out a huff, shaking Roman by his collar. ”Finally, Andrews! This brat wouldn’t keep quiet in the line and you were nowhere to be found! If you wouldn’t have just appeared, I would have slapped this jerk myself.”

Logan frowned. ”You know very well it is against the rules to punish students other than your own, Simons.”

Patrick Simons rolled his eyes. ”If anything, this idiot is against the rules.” he let go of Roman’s collar and shoved him towards Logan. ”I’m going to eat my dinner now that I finally have some peace.” he walked away, dismissively wiping his hands to his trousers as if touching Roman had made them dirty.

Roman looked at the floor, twisting his hands. ”I’m sorry, sir,” he muttered to Logan.

Logan put a reassuring hand on Roman’s shoulder. ”It’s alright. Let’s have dinner, and I’ll expect you to head to my room after we’re done with that.”

”Yes sir,” Roman nodded, walking back to the end of the line with the two older students.

[poetic-beats]

Update:

I am now having to compile a list of evidence and issues to give to PALS so they can do an independent investigation of my issues about my treatment by the psychiatrists lodge.  I have now seen both psychiatrists who now work there. And had the manager who I still have not been told if he is even a qualified mental health professional or just a managerial role person because he seemed to judge me based on my diagnosis and without reading any of the reports on me or talking to me or bringing me in for assessment again after crisis team referral he seemed to know exactly who i am what my issues are and what i need.

Like no. He also was doing this illegally as when crisis team refers me back to them I LEGALLY get an appointment and reassessment of my needs..

They cant just assume and tell me this is what I am entitled to before i have been assessed.

This psychiatrist I saw yesterday was all about heres your meds now fuck off. He seemed to listen better to my mum at least. However he was not that welcoming and he also got caught in a lie. He kept saying the same rhetoric as the manager that the GP letter I REQUEST to see under the freedom of information of my personal records blah blah act is supposedly my care plan i questioned this then he says oh well DBT and psychologist care is when you get a full care plan I said I DID do DBT i was on the course for some time before i had to quit.

I never was told about a care plan.

Then i say btw right behind you on the wall is a new NHS board outlining specifically care plans and my entitlement to them ITS RIGHT BEHIND YOU.

I already know the law and NICE and NHS guidelines and rulings but in case I didnt its literally there in the waiting room we are in behind you.

He then admits finally that I AM NOT in fact receiving a care plan as that is only for certain people they have a limited number of people who are eligible to receive that even though the NHS and ELFT who covers and runs the care for my area his bosses way up basically above manager of meadow lodge have clearly outlined with NHS and NICE guidelines a care plan isnt something you are assessed to receive It is something I should just have...the bloody board behind him my dad took a pic of It had like a thing where it said you say this ‘ xyz’ and then on the other side it had what this means and what the care provider is expected to do in response and it outlines a care plan what it is and what you receive and how it works.

So its like well that makes no mention of you deciding who gets a care plan rather I should have one and in case I dont i should just have to say and ask what the board suggests to ask and you should respond according to the NHS with a care plan discussed with ME and that WE both decide upon crisis plan of action long and short term goals for my recovery and progress and discuss an integrative approach with a FULL CMHT...something yet again they should be offering but dont. As the manager put it im not in crisis enough to warrant this care that is meant to be pretty standard care not for specially in crisis people. And as for crisis well im not sure how much worse i needed to get. other than my GP almost calling an ambulance on me but instead getting me a same day referral to a crisis team who spoke to me til gone 8pm that night until i was stable enough to leave and go home and in the mean time they’d handle a referral back to meadow lodge in which i was told the appointment system should run smooth instead my parents fought tooth and nail to not just get an appointment in which the manager told me exactly what i would be offered before i’d even been for assessment but he had to fight for a fair assessment one which follows NICE guidelines and standard code of practice for re referrals which basically means i should be reassessed as if i am a new patient in the fact that my needs may have changed or new problems have clearly arisen if ive been referred from crisis team. 

So I have now exhausted every option I also found out by chance the builder/labourer my dad employs rn also has bipolar and has also had the exact same issue i had with the exact same lady psychiatrist after being transferred to her care when our old psych retired. Only he had a breakdown in their reception she did nothing made him leave and then he was hospitalised only when he saw crisis team I saw he wasnt willing to give them another chance so refused treatment there and went through the slightly longer process of being referred else where although to be honest the process isnt longer because meadow lodge dont follow guidelines and rather than immediately seeing me as early as possibly my parents had to phone up to remind them and bug them to even read over the crisis teams referal to them.

Even though a crisis team referral is equivalent to someone being rushed to A&E you are the priority patient over others not in A&E therefore i shouldnt have had to get my parents to chase them up for an appointment and then fight for a fair assessment. Which tbh i half got and half didnt.

This is v. frustrating but hey at least i now know of 3 other people who were under my old psychs care when he retired were put under the lady psychiatrists care and we have all had issues we have all been discharged around the same time after being transferred to her care. And me and the builder at least that i know of have ended up in crisis teams care for a period of time.

So basically we now have 3 known incidents of this psychiatrist discharging people who have ended up in crisis because of it shortly after discharge showing clearly we werent meant to be discharged nor ready to be and another lady who complained on the NHS site about her and the lodge as a whole since my old psych who ran it retired. SHe had similar complaints i did about treatment and as for the builder my dad works with and employs well she told him hes far too young to have bipolar and have these issues in his life and discharged him saying he has to take care of himself and take self responsibility.

So at this point if i go to PALS with facts about discharging patients before they were safe to be discharged and say well just look i know of me and one other person whose ended back up in severe crisis care shortly after her discharging us this is not a coincidence and there is a third who has also been discharged and complained oh and two years earlier there is another complaint about her also saying to a guy for an assessment with her that he needs to care for himself gave him adhd meds and discharged him on the initial meeting back to GP care.  And told him he had to basically buck up and get a job as its what normal people do or everyone has to do even thoguh he said he needed help and treatment so he could function to work. Again it seems to be a pattern that she tells people they have to care for themselves without giving us the toools to learn to self cope and self care. 

she is rude. not compassionate. cares more about stigmatising us and accusing us and having very odd beliefs for a psychiatrist given studies have always shown disorders like bipolar type 2 and rapid cycling itself is almost wholly found in those who develop bipolar disorder at young adolescence...so its a whole thing based around developing it young. And here she is telling the builder we know hes too young to have bipolar and problems. 

as if she knows his life she basically dismissed his diagnosis tbh...because of his age...even though hes in his 20s mid 20s and its not uncommon for bipolar to take hold in adolescence mine appeared when i was 17/18 so clearly someone in there 20s is not too young to have such a disorder she would know this as she would have studied more in depth than i did the disorder and the studies and science on it. 

I am SO mad. i wasted my time yesterday and caused my mental health to be put under immense strain because of how i was treated YET AGAIN by professionals whose duty is to care for me. Now i am back at square one and left having to go through getting a MHA to help me with the PALS complaint process.

[sheislegend23]

10.21.18

Here it goes:: the topic today is PCOS.

PCOS means polycystic ovarian syndrome. There are a lot of things that you can google, but I am going to be talking about my own personal journey and what that means for me now in this moment in time. There’s TMI in here, but reading personal accounts has helped me broaden my mind and knowledge and has certainly helped me realize I’m not alone in my struggles.

First thing you should know is that while some little girls plan their weddings, I planned baby names. I used to say I wanted as many children as I could, and I have ALWAYS wanted to have a family of my own.

Body wise, I was healthy and “normal” until I was about 8 or 9 years old. I slowly gained weight and got “husky”, but nothing to be terribly concerned about. By 12, I was obese. I didn’t get my first period until I was 16, which some say is just being a late bloomer, but in my case was probably the beginning effects of PCOS.

At 11, my parents divorced and my dad and I went off our own way. We had a huuuge learning curve, and I remember eating spaghetti with sauce (and when that ran out - butter) for weeks at a time until he got paid again because spaghetti was cheap, cheap, cheap. We moved again and again and readjusted our lifestyle over and over so we would never have to go back to those rough days, but that period of time was when I went from “husky” to obese.

I hated my body and didn’t understand why eating what was presented as “healthy” as a child wasn’t helping me. At 14, I started dance classes and later tried out and made my high school drill teams. All the dancing and cardio didn’t help my waistline. I didn’t let anyone’s mean comments or my fat body stop me from dancing, which inspired some and repulsed others. I didn’t have regular periods which I chalked up to being so active and fat at the same time. A stressed out body could possibly decide that’s not the best place for a baby to grow, right??

Enter adulthood. Here’s a few things I learned::

1.) Bread is NOT healthy. My mother drilled in my head that bread is good for you and could be a good anytime healthy snack as well as something you HAD to eat at least twice a day. Not sure where she got that information because, especially with my body type, starch and carbs are the enemy. I didn’t learn this til much later, I will alert when it is time.

2.) I have ADD. Specifically, ring of fire ADD (NOT ADHD) which helped explain why I am patient and extremely slow to anger, but once I’m angry, just back off and let me blow off my steam to cool down again. I thought it was because I’m southern. This diagnosis was at the age of 19.

3.) I have PCOS. The doctor I went to perhaps had good intentions, but conveyed very incorrect information and can give you, the reader, a glimpse at how one obese patient was given said info.

At my first OBGYN appointment, she told me that with 95% accuracy, I definitely had PCOS. She glanced over what that meant, but then came to the part she grilled me on - my weight. My weight was most likely causing the PCOS so if I could just stop eating bad and go exercise, I could probably reverse the effects and have a normal body again. I explained that I had danced for years and hadn’t eaten that terribly since I had had to at 12, and she said that I simply must not have been exercising hard enough and eating too much. Insert a HUUUGE eye roll here because as any drill team alum know, it’s plenty.

The real troubling thing came next when I talked about my want for a family in the future. She looked at me very gravely and said that my chances for conception are extremely slim, and if I ever did successfully conceive and didn’t miscarry, I would need to quit my job and stay at home and never be stressed for the whole 9 months because I would be at a very high risk of miscarriage up until the baby came out. Also, “don’t get attached to the first one” because I will likely lose it. Reminder:: A REAL DOCTOR TOLD ME THIS. AT 19. For real.

Her solution: birth control. I was very weary of all types of female birth control because there are a lot of side effects. I took them for a few months, and then stopped.

I don’t hold any ill will towards her, but I later found out that that information is VERY incorrect. My journey however has included believing that lie until 2 years ago.

Shortly after that, I found out I had ADD, so I started taking adderall. I took a high dose because my fat body would absorb it, and when friends or whoever would ask my dosage and I’d tell them, they were horrified and assured me that my heart would definitely explode and they were surprised I wasn’t already dead as a door nail. That’s the problem with opinions, it’s all very personally based. They weren’t thinking of MY fat body at all.

The adderall worked wonders. I could concentrate! I could multitask! I stopped making so many dang piles! Mostly, I stopped eating. I ate regular or smaller meals at “regular” times in the day and if I skipped something, it didn’t matter because I was definitely not hungry.

On weekends, sometimes I would want a break. So I wouldn’t take my adderall and I’d sleep and sleep and sleep and then binge eat and go right back to sleep. My roommates were worried but I felt so healed and cleansed with all that sleep, I wasn’t worried at all.

I grew skinnier and skinnier, and my PCOS symptoms had began to disappear. I was having regular periods, I wasn’t growing hair in weird places, and BY GOD, I could cross my legs like a proper southern belle. Everyone was soooo proud. I was proud, my family, my friends. Everyone from high school was wondering, “how did she do it?!?” My self confidence grew, and for the first time in my life, I started dating.

One day, I met the man who would be my husband. We both expressed our want of children which raised a big ole question:: how could I treat my ADD without adderall? I was scared because I knew what being on adderall is like and what not being on it is like, and my identity as an adult had revolved around and relied on it. If I stopped the medicine, I would get fat again! I was just about to get into single digit clothing, I was beautiful, and yet, I knew I had to stop.

I couldn’t think of any good time to stop, so I just did cold turkey. I was ridiculously tired for 2 weeks, and then I started to feel normal again. Sure enough, I started gaining weight again, eating a lot more, etc etc. I had my soulmate, so it didn’t seem like such a bad deal, but it was depressing nonetheless. The cringes on faces when they saw my weight regain was painful, talks about “what happened to you???” stung, and I felt so ashamed.

Insert that number 1 revelation, bread is BAD. Bad, bad, bad. I learned all about processed foods, and tried the keto diet. It worked and I lost a little bit of weight, but it was unrealistic for long term. Once you’re off keto, all that weight springs back on you, and so it did.

After our marriage, I was off insurance for some time and when I got back on, I was put on metformin for my A1C. My day to day numbers are fine, but my A1C number was ridiculously high. It’s under control now, and we are looking to the next step.

I have researched PCOS and here is the real kicker:: it makes it hard to lose weight but if you could just lose weight, it would get the symptoms under control. However, one of the symptoms is that it is hard to lose weight. It’s a great big freakin’ circle. I’m not talking “stop eating bread” hard. I’m talking “don’t even think about looking at carbs” hard. The only thing that helped was dropping all carbs and then I got yelled at for a non balanced diet. IT’S FRUSTRATING!

Here’s my plan:: cut out things in baby steps.

Step 1:: no more drinking my sugar intake. Proud to say, I have completed this step. This is one southern woman who drinks UNsweet iced tea and water only, please.

Step 2:: no more fast food. Still working on this one, it’s so easy and yummy but I have cut it to once a week.

Step 3:: no more junk food.

Step 4:: healthy meals only.

The scary thing is that the help for conception is all very expensive. The words of my previous OBGYN keep swimming through my head. I struggle to force myself to go to baby showers because while I am thrilled for my friend and their new little one, I am envious and that is an ugly color. Every time I see a child that’s been abused, it makes me tear up because I would love to adopt a child and love them to pieces. Adoption isn’t an option for us sadly due to things out of our hands (still looking into this, but the process of adoption of American children is hard and expensive), but the thought still hurts.

God wouldn’t put such a strong desire for having children in my heart if I wasn’t meant to have any, right?

I hope that anyone who got this far will remember this:: a lot of this struggle was silent as it was happening. I certainly know that if given the choice, I would have the correct BMI for my height. I didn’t choose this struggle, and unkind words make it harder to shoulder. As the Beatles say, “I get by with a little help from my friends.” Thanks to those who have supported me and let me vent to them about these struggles, and for those who have been with me as I navigate my way into the future.

[alternativelistening]

***content warning: super long venting post, mention of child molestation, homophobia, emotional abuse, child abuse, potential sad feels***

you don’t have to read. just another livejournal type diary post on the internets.

Things seem like they’re getting better with my family. I’m trying to not have expectations for anything more than what I’m seeing right now like I was taught in therapy. But something happened recently that triggered some feelings and memories.

For context: I have four younger siblings. My first sister is one of the people who contributed to my declining mental health, and I know I’m part of her traumas too. I own that I lashed out at her when I was young and badly dealing with my own abuse. Even though I was hurt, I was also wrong. And I’ve actively worked on it. I notice that she’s grown a lot too. But I don’t expect her to own this nor do I deserve to feel that she needs to. What has always bothered me the most with her was that she’s always taken my mom’s side on things. She won’t believe the things my mom said and did to me. And she always excused my mom for the things that she witnessed herself. I mean, no parent is perfect. They’re human too. But both my parents had a large part in how fucked up I am. It’s just not fair to blame a child for their own abuse. I was constantly insulted, humiliated, and invalidated every moment I tried to open to her. So much so that I had to cut her out of my life for some time. But this year, my sister and I are finally somewhat getting along.

My sister did finally admit on Monday that while not everything can be our mom’s fault, it’s impossible for her to not have a large impact on me. I appreciated that she can say that much at least. Time with her has been okay. We text each other every now and then. I want us to continue getting along. But the other day, during one of the game nights I hosted, she announced to the room that I used to cut myself while sharing a story about our childhood. She probably doesn’t remember because of the way it slipped out after she had a Soft Parade and a couple glasses of wine. I’ll paraphrase what she said.

“Yeah, our childhood was really wild. Like we actually practiced drills whenever there was a sign of our parents getting angry. Hannah would time us and we would all practice running into our rooms and find good hiding spots. So we were usually ready for whatever was coming. 

We’ve grown a lot. Became better for it. And Hannah used to be so terrible too. [I verbally agreed with my sister here and let her continue speaking after giving a couple examples of my awfulness to the room] It’s ridiculous. I was always the perfect child. I never got into trouble. I usually had straight As, like the first in our family to get straight As. But who did my mom buy clothes for? Who got an iPod? Hannah did. She cut herself and got an iPod and mall trips. I worked really hard and got hand me downs every once in a while.”

The listeners in the room were stunned for a moment, me especially. But she continued with bittersweet stories of our childhood as if nothing was wrong. We all moved on and focused on the board games.

I don’t think she did it with malice. I want to believe she wasn’t trying to hurt me. I think it was an accident. And maybe most of the people there already knew this about me. It just really hurt me that it came up so casually (and inaccurately). Her complaints and feelings were completely valid. I agree. It wasn’t fair that she didn’t get more from our parents. I always knew she was a little jealous and bitter about this. She eventually learned that different kids have different needs. I still sympathize with her. But as flawed as my mom was, she wanted to at least try to give me reasons to live and do better in school. My mom didn’t understand mental healthcare. She had no knowledge in emotional labor. She just had money. Could she have done better? Absolutely. Like not pressure me to lie during one of my psych evaluations and let me actually get the help I needed when I was 15. And you know, just be kinder and more supportive. But still, I can understand and appreciate that she tried in her own way.

It just seems so reductive and callous to frame my cutting as some cry for attention or for materialistic gain. My whole life my mom would tell people that to avoid any accountability. Clearly she sold it to my siblings pretty well. And it’s not fair. I already had too much attention. I didn’t need more. I constantly wished for less. Cutting myself just felt really fucking good compared to the way my whole family and memories made me feel. And you know, if it had been for attention or for anything really, it still would have been a serious situation that deserved validity and compassion. Really. If someone is cutting themself for attention, just fucking give them attention.

Thanks to coping methods I’ve learned over the years through friends, experiences, and therapy, I don’t cut myself anymore. But the feelings and thoughts are still there. And I work really hard to sort them out. I’ve covered up some of my scars with tattoos. I don’t want the fact that I used to cut myself to be announced into a room when we’re trying to play board games.

I could tell my sister this. I could communicate with her. I know communication of my feelings and issues is something I don’t do enough of with anyone, including my partner and best friends. I could share everything. But I don’t want to fight my sister. We’ve only just started getting on better terms. I don’t want to get hurt when I get shut down again for trying to share. I also don’t want to fall back into blaming her for things that aren’t her fault. I’m sure it was just a tactless accident. I’m just processing what happened and all the bad feelings and memories that came from it through my occasional venting into the void.

It made me think about my traumas, my queerness, and the way my mom handled things. Much later, maybe three or four years after coming out, my mom was still cold to me but was growing civil. Around this time I also had a major bipolar manic episode while traveling for work (at the time I didn’t know it was bipolar). When I came home, my mom said I should get a check up, something about her insurance blah blah blah. This was unrelated to the major episode I had but I didn’t know at the time how good the timing was. I went to a gyno and a physician. Other than typical Midwestern Vitamin D deficiency, nothing was really wrong at that time. But my physician seemed to have thought I had ADHD and maybe more after I had to go into detail about some things relating to my health in a holistic sense. My physician recommended a great mental health clinic she knew. 

When my mom asked how my check up went, I told her about the ADHD issue that my doctor mentioned. She didn’t actually know what it was, as educated as she is. I explained it to her and together we actually connected all the things about me and the things I did during school that ties in with the symptoms of ADHD. So, for the first time ever, she actively supported me in caring for my mental health.

I met with a psychiatrist, who told me before she could diagnose me with anything, I should meet with both her and a therapist for some time. And so from there, after a few months of sessions, they both were 100% convinced that I suffered from ADHD, PTSD, and mixed bipolar disorder. It wasn’t the first time I met with psychiatrists and therapists. But it was the first time I got to consistently meet up with professionals without my mom looming over me. I don’t know why I never connected my episodes of relived memories, intense range and level of emotions, strong reactions to movement, dissociation, problematic drinking, constant suicidal thoughts, self-harm & destruction, depression, paranoia, rage, extreme impulsiveness, hyper vigilance, etc to these issues. 

Eventually my psychiatrist put me on a trial and error of meds and dosages. I was warned that it would be a rough month or two for me as we experiment. I had no idea how rough. All those symptoms I described kind of hit me all at once. Literally a single sentence put me in a corner, crying and shaking, as I relived an old traumatic memory over and over again for hours. My empathy became so intense, I shut down because my own pain was already too much to handle at the time. I sabotaged relationships and nearly ruined things with my partner (again) over things that didn’t warrant the responses I gave it. By the time we found the right combination and amount of meds and I was stable, things were too late with a lot of people. I felt like I had to accept that and move on. But maybe part of that is cowardice, again not wanting to open up and communicate.

Around that time I updated my mom on these developments, diagnosis and meds-wise for insurance purposes. And then we got a little more personal because she was telling me how strange it was that I needed all this help when she’s been through worse and doesn’t require the same. I personally think that she needs some therapy at least but that’s another issue. Anyway, during that heated argument and my instability, I told her about the men who molested me throughout my childhood. I never had any intention of telling her. As I got older, I felt like I was protecting her. But it came out. She kind of just stopped. And I started to cry for the younger me and I cried for my mom too.

“When did it happen?” “The first time was back in California. You used to drop me off at an old couple’s house to babysit me while you were working. They had an adult son. He would take me to his room... He would do things to me.” “Why didn’t you ever tell me?” “I didn’t know how to. I didn’t feel safe. And I don’t think anyone would have believed me.” “You were only four years old.” “I know.”

It’s just weird how things that can seem almost unrelated can trigger me into these memories and feelings. But I’m honestly okay right now. I didn’t cut myself. I didn’t drink. I just had a good cry and typed this out. I’ll get ready to go out in a bit. I appreciate that I’m not going to ruminate. And if you’ve actually read this, I’m sorry. But thanks for listening. 

[actuallyadhd]

i was diagnosed last october as an adult. i was 22 years old and going to grad school, so i wanted a formal diagnosis for potential accommodations in school. i didn’t go initially for an ADHD diagnosis, though. 

i self-diagnosed as autistic when i was 14 and had several therapists over the years suggested i had asperger’s and/or autism, so i was happy to call myself autistic and i was comfortable with that, but having the paper diagnosis would be beneficial from a paperwork perspective. 

my therapist suggested that i go to this one person who had a really good reputation for diagnosing adults, but they would have cost $3000. instead, i called my insurance and asked if there was a provider in my area who did neuropsych evaluations on adults and got someone in-network for me which at the end of the day cost me ~$50 instead. 

i went in detailing what i had trouble with and was told at the pre-screening that i was definitely worth investigating further. i figured as much already, but i scheduled a proper appointment for testing.

that day, i had a weird hand injury on my dominant that i was worried would throw off all of my results, but i ended up taking the WAIS-IV, the TOVA, clock drawing, problem solving tests, Auditory/Visual Memory Indexes, visuospatial functioning, executive functioning, and the Minnesota Multiphasic Personality Inventory.

i was also given tests of my motor functions, which basically consisted of watching how i moved in space and also having me squeeze these funny objects. this is where the hand injury came in; i could barely squeeze it with my right hand. the tester had me do it again because it was in the 1st percentile the first time. i got it all the way up to the 2nd percentile. my left hand, on the other hand, did soooo much better at 12th percentile. /sarcasm 

all in all, the testing took about 3 hours. at the end, i went home. i had to wait two weeks when i got an emailed report signed by the doctor. 

in it, i read the whole thing through, and found the first diagnosis listed was ADHD and the fourth was autism spectrum disorder.  

my whole world crashed hard. i didn’t know anything about ADHD, so i started to research it in the hopes of being able to find the overlap between autism and ADHD and realize that there had just been a mistake. instead, the more i learned, the more i realized that that experience hit extremely close to home. for the next week, i did nothing but pour over ADHD literature and realize just how much i actually had it. 

then i flip-flopped and was totally convinced that all of the autism stuff that i’d known my whole life was incorrect. in a fit of desperate attempts to be validated, i sent what must have been a 1000 word essay to a person i knew who had both ADHD and autism for help. i realized during writing that message that it was…. a lot, but i ended up sending it anyway. i never got a response back (which i’m honestly thankful for to this day). this was a significant point of stress for weeks. my whole identity and understanding of myself had been radically changed and i wasn’t sure i wanted to keep up. 

at this point, it’s been almost a year since i discovered my ADHD. 

and i really, really have ADHD. and, as the year has gone on, i’ve really processed this and realized that, no, the doctor was right and i have both ADHD and autism. neither one completely captures what’s going on in my head, but both comes extremely extremely close. :-) 

tl;dr at the end of the day, i hope that people can take two things away from my story. 

if you referred to some where very expensive, see if there are other options. talk to your insurance if you have one. ask around from other mental health professionals. some have allegiance to others. 

the real truth about ADHD is so unclear. i knew people with ADHD, my mom has ADHD, my brother has ADHD, but it never affected me and i didn’t know enough about it to really care enough to look at it. i was overwhelmed with just how much i didn’t know when i became diagnosed and i truly hope that everyone with attention problems, executive dysfunction, memory problems, sleep problems, hyperactivity, impulsivity, emotional lability, etc. consider ADHD. you may be as surprised as i was about the depths of our understanding of this disorder. 

happy adhd awareness month! 

[corinthreean]

how did you find out you were autistic, if you don't mind me asking? i've only really started entertaining the possibility that i might be recently, in my early twenties, and i don't really know what to do about it or how to be taken seriously...

Hi Anon! So when I was 18 I went off to uni for the first time and had a complete nervous breakdown. In hindsight, this was due to unaddressed and undiagnosed clinical depression and ADHD, but what happened when I came home was I went to a doctor and told him how unwell I was and got an appointment with a psychologist on the NHS. I was looking for a diagnosis that would explain why I had found myself unable to cope and, while she completely missed the lifelong depression and ADHD, she noticed I had a lot of the symptoms of autism (asperger's specifically). I then did a week of diagnostic tests and eventually got the diagnosis - a very problematic 'high-functioning asperger's' diagnosis, which I now call autism because the high functioning label is bullshit ableism and I'm not usually comfortable with giving people the specific TYPE of autism I have. I have to be completely honest - the test was pretty long and gruelling and involved maths tests, vocabulary tests, puzzle solving tests, verbal tests, morality and social understanding questions and other shit. The whole process only amplified my already bad internalised ableism and made me a lot more depressed and a lot less self-confident, so I dunno if I'd recommend going through it unless you will benefit from an official diagnosis (through access to support or funds only available with a medical note, for example).

[livebloggingmydescentintomadness]

About self-diagnosis, I completely agree. People who haven't struggled as much with their health tend to overestimate what a diagnosis actually is. I've been in and out of therapy and counselling and mentoring for four years but I've never had a formal diagnosis. Last year I needed to apply for academic help at university because my mental health affects my memory and concentration, my doctor basically asked me if I wanted to go through the formal diagonsis process to get the (1/2)

(diagnosis anon 2/2) to get the formal "anxiety and depression" receipt, or if I'd prefer to just continue my life as normal knowing I have them without a formal label. Since I'm already in treatment, I didn't actually need a diagnosis. People tend to forget that the point of diagnosing is to highlight other potential symptoms and the most useful treatment. If someone realises they have a symptom of adhd or ocd then it's a good thing for them to do their own research and practice self-help.

Very well said, and your story is a great example. I went through a 3 year diagnostic process for my illness(es) and I got several diagnoses along the way - which were important for me, because I needed to know exactly what physical illnesses I had so I could take the right medications for them. 

But at the same time, I learned that doctors aren’t always right, and that I have to be my own advocate and expert, because I’m the only one experiencing my symptoms in my body, and I’m the one most motivated to get the right answers. I’m the one who knew there was something wrong with me when doctors told me I was fine. I’m the one who, with diagnosis in hand, has done the research to find better ways to treat myself.

Really, the difference between self-diagnosis and professional diagnosis mostly boils down to how much you need professional treatment or accommodations. If you need prescription medication or academic help or a handicapped plaque, then you need a doctor’s diagnosis. If you don’t feel like you need those things, there’s not necessarily any point in spending time, money, and effort jumping through hoops to get a doctor to write down some words on a piece of paper. 

If you can manage your ADHD or autism or mental illness or whatever well enough on your own, if you feel valid enough without that piece of paper, I think self-diagnosis is fine.

[actuallyadhd]

Hi, I’m currently at the diagnosis stage of ADHD and I just wanted to share my experience before it comes to a maybe end. On January 17th I have my diagnosis appointment that I’ve been desperately waiting for since March of last year. Ever since I got the appointment letter from the hospital I’ve been terrified that I’m going to find out that I’m just really lazy and a bit scatty.

I first went to a doctor about ADHD when I was in my final year of university. I told myself at the beginning of the year I wasn’t going to let myself get behind in my work again, but inevitably I did. Of course I had this huge final project to do and I just couldn’t commit myself to starting it, I got more and more stressed and handled it by playing video games, binging Netflix, or scrolling aimlessly through tumblr. This is how I’ve always coped unless I’ve had immediate deadlines. I can’t remember what finally made me think “hey, maybe this isn’t just chronic laziness” but something did and I looked up ADHD. I related to pretty much everything. What they all seemed to say was go to a doctor and see about diagnosis. 

I got to my appointment and I sit down across from the lady who asks me what I’m there for. I tell her that I think I might have ADHD. She laughs at me and says in the same breath, “Don’t you think you’re a little old for that?” I cannot describe how humiliated I felt. I was like a deer in headlights about to burst into tears and I explain (very poorly) how I violently procrastinate anything and everything to a ridiculous degree, I try to tell her how I haven’t started my dissertation and I can’t bring myself to no matter what I do. I can’t remember all the symptoms at this point and she’s already dismissing me, saying how I’m just like every other student and I just need to sit down and get it done.

I brought it up one more time a few weeks later with my parents and both of them laughed at me too and effectively told me I just wanted to be a special snowflake.

I didn’t consider it again until almost a whole year later when I started driving lessons. Almost every lesson is near constant tears. I’m driving stick (or trying to) and I can’t remember to change gear, I can’t remember to look out of the window to see what’s going on, I keep forgetting which way to turn the wheel when I go to park, I go onto the wrong side of the road and don’t notice until told, I keep staring at my speed or the gear stick. I cannot drive more than two minutes without needing the instructor to drive the car. This would be fine if 40 hours of lessons later I had improved and stopped crying all over the place. I find I can’t remember what he’s told me as soon as he’s told me, I sit there listening to him telling me what to do and my brain is blanking, when I try to focus it starts going LALALALALA over the top of it and I’m telling myself to listen but it’s like I’m self-sabotaging. He tells me he’s taught people with all sorts of learning disabilities and never has he had such difficulty with a student before. I finally say that I tried to see someone about ADHD. He encourages me to pursue it again, so I do. This doctor is barely more sympathetic than the last one, I have to insist on being referred, and even as I leave the office I can’t remember if he said he’d write the referral letter. I don’t tell my parents about it.

A letter finally arrives three months later after I’d given up hope and also given up driving stick. By this stage I’ve changed to automatic and it’s like a dream, even if I did fail two driving tests for stupid mistakes. Shortly after, I confide in my mom about ADHD diagnosis and she’s initially skeptical but she takes me seriously this time. I send her some links to websites and, to my delight, she tells me after reading them that she thinks I probably do have it. She would flip flop on this several times but a month later she accompanies me to the initial consultation and thankfully comes up with more examples of it in my behavior than I could have done. The psychologist decides there’s enough evidence to forward me for an actual diagnosis. My mom finally accepts the possibility I might have it, I think she feels if I have it she’s failed me by not noticing. She also suspects she has it too.

Fast forward ten months and here I am. I am petrified that I’m going to leave that three hour appointment with nothing. I shouldn't want to be diagnosed with ADHD but I want them to tell me I have it so I know that there’s a reason that I’m the way I am, that there are things that can be done to deal with it, and that everyone who mocked me was wrong. If I don’t have it, I look like an idiot on a vanity mission. If I don’t have it, why can’t I cope with the way I am when the way I am is supposedly ‘normal’? I’ve spent my whole life holding myself to the standard of everyone else “If they can do it, why can’t I?” and still struggling despite it. I’m so afraid of judgement that I haven’t even told my closest friends. I’ve literally been procrastinating my life for this appointment, I feel like I can’t truly move on until I know one way or the other.

There are two reasons for this monstrosity, firstly, it feels so good to get that off my chest, secondly, I hope anyone thinking about seeing a doctor for an ADHD diagnosis reading this might find the courage to start the process. No matter what the result of diagnosis is, you’ll have some peace of mind at the end and a way to move forward, hopefully.

TLDR; Don’t let other people dismiss you just because you’re not that stereotypical hyperactive little boy. Also sorry for this long post, I can’t seem to help myself?

Please come back and let us know the final result.

And I don’t think it’s nothing; you’re obviously struggling with something. Whether or not that’s ADHD is going to be answered at your appointment. Hopefully if it isn’t ADHD the clinician will be able to tell you what it actually is. But it’s something.

And whatever it is, you are so strong and amazing. Thank you so much for sharing your story.

-J