I'm not being funny or ironic. I officially have it; professionally diagnosed. I take medication for it. I am sharing in this forum with a small audience in mind. Maybe this will be helpful to them. If it is of interest to others, bonus.
I don't really love talking about it. Of all the mental health problems out there, I feel like my ADD probably has the least stigma, yet it totally has a stigma. Such as when a potential employer, upon learning that I take medication, said to me, "We don't hire people like that." Or, less seriously, but still not awesome, when people casually comment about how ADD is a made up thing.
On that point, for the sake of conversation, let me concede that it is a "made up" thing. That said, college is a made up thing. Sitting in a classroom for eight hours a day as a child is a made up thing. Placement tests are made up things. Personality screens used by employers are made up things. All of those made up things systematically work against people who have brains that work like mine. So when I get diagnosed with "made up" ADD, and I can take medication that allows me to pass those screening tests and become gainfully employed, I am thankful. So I don't even care if it's made up. The diagnosis describes me accurately and the treatment is effective.
Seeking professional help, even if a formal diagnosis does not follow, is not a sign of moral weakness. Accepting a diagnosis, including the taking of medication, is not giving up.
Of all the books I've read in trying to understand my own condition and other issues in my family, I like The Explosive Child the best. The prescribed solutions are not even as useful as the underlying premise of the book: That we all want to be good and useful to society, just some of us are unable without extra help. It is so charitable. And really it applies to all of us, not just those with problems that put us on one spectrum or another. We all have difficulties we are trying to overcome.
Finally, to my fellow ADD afflicted, and those married to such, I recommend Brandi Carlile:
I am a sturdy soul
And there ain't no shame
In lying down in the bed you've made
Can you fight the urge to run for another day?
You might make it further if you learn to stay
I don't really love talking about it. Of all the mental health problems out there, I feel like my ADD probably has the least stigma, yet it totally has a stigma. Such as when a potential employer, upon learning that I take medication, said to me, "We don't hire people like that." Or, less seriously, but still not awesome, when people casually comment about how ADD is a made up thing.
On that point, for the sake of conversation, let me concede that it is a "made up" thing. That said, college is a made up thing. Sitting in a classroom for eight hours a day as a child is a made up thing. Placement tests are made up things. Personality screens used by employers are made up things. All of those made up things systematically work against people who have brains that work like mine. So when I get diagnosed with "made up" ADD, and I can take medication that allows me to pass those screening tests and become gainfully employed, I am thankful. So I don't even care if it's made up. The diagnosis describes me accurately and the treatment is effective.
Seeking professional help, even if a formal diagnosis does not follow, is not a sign of moral weakness. Accepting a diagnosis, including the taking of medication, is not giving up.
Of all the books I've read in trying to understand my own condition and other issues in my family, I like The Explosive Child the best. The prescribed solutions are not even as useful as the underlying premise of the book: That we all want to be good and useful to society, just some of us are unable without extra help. It is so charitable. And really it applies to all of us, not just those with problems that put us on one spectrum or another. We all have difficulties we are trying to overcome.
Finally, to my fellow ADD afflicted, and those married to such, I recommend Brandi Carlile:
I am a sturdy soul
And there ain't no shame
In lying down in the bed you've made
Can you fight the urge to run for another day?
You might make it further if you learn to stay







