Day 66 - Revelation

I’m not sure what triggered the conversations.

I talked to 3 women last week who had all been diagnosed with ADHD late in life. One of them was my sister, and that’s important, because guess what ADHD has?

A strong hereditary link.

The other two were girlfriends - very different careers. Children at very different stages of their life. Different ages for their diagnosis.

And while the wording was different, the message was the same - probably time for you to get evaluated.

Actually, I think when I told my sister “I think I have ADHD,” her reply was something close to “no fucking shit.” You know, lovingly.

There’s an episode of How I Met Your Mother where the sound of glass shattering plays whenever someone notices an annoying habit of one of the other characters. I tend to hear it in my head when I feel a lightbulb moment, and this past week has been nothing but glass shattering in my head.

Why did I stay up until 1am in high school to type out my chemistry labs when no one else was doing that and my dad told me to stop because I was too stressed?

Why didn’t I have the confidence to pursue meteorology or teaching as careers, despite putting in the work, time, and money to be qualified?

Why can’t I stick to my meal plan? Why can’t I meal prep?

Why do I not wash my travel mugs that can’t go in the dishwasher until I have exactly 0 other options?

Why haven’t I put away hang-up laundry since I started this new job?

Why does my suitcase sit, unused and not put away, until my next trip?

I mean. Come on.

What actually triggered the conversations with these other women is when I felt like I was being dramatic. I told one of them “I feel like my life is falling apart.” Which wasn’t true. My life, all things considered, is fine. Better than fine.

What I actually meant was “I feel like *I* am falling apart.”

If you go back and read my blogs from when I started this job until now, there is a common theme - I’m struggling, but I’m about to get my shit together. Just one more week and I think I’ll have my routine figured out.

Narrator: she did not, in fact, get a routine figured out.

Instead, I constantly forgot my wallet in one bag or the other and left without it several days. I ran late every morning. I tried to remember to pack a lunch I didn’t stop to eat. I tried eight different ways to manage my new to-do list for work, switching between digital and analog versions and still forgetting things. I was begging my days, or even just my mornings, to fit neatly into a routine. I cried when my day changed last minute because the vet could get us in *today* and not next week, which is OBVIOUSLY better, except for my schedule. I was exhausted all the time, but surely just from being back at work after being laid off for 5 months.

My life was falling apart.

I had ignored the signs before about ADHD. ADHD was the hot new thing to be diagnosed with, the thing that everyone on my feed said they were, and I try not to fall for pop-therapy type things. My sister was diagnosed, and I mentioned it to my therapist, but no. I don’t fit the mold. Too organized. Too successful. Too clean. Too good at planning - you’re in project management! - to have ADHD.

So, what is the point of me writing about this tonight? Probably because I am still exhausted. Or my brain wouldn’t shut up and I needed a place to put all these thoughts. Or I’m looking for grace from friends while I feel like an absolute mess. Definitely on the inside, and I think sometimes on the outside. Or because I want validation that I am not overreacting for having made an appointment with my doctor for next week to talk to her about it. And that making a 3-page bulleted list about all the reasons why I think I have ADHD isn’t overkill, and is completely normal. (That’s a lie, as soon as I hit “print” I knew it was overkill.)

Honestly, what I really want is to stop feeling like a mess.