The Lightbulb

"I knew there was nothing wrong with me, but I knew there was something wrong with me." -Ardelle Ferris, ArdelleVision, "How I Came to Know I Have ADHD Inattentive Type"

This is part one of a multi-part blog post series documenting how I began to realize that I may have ADHD.

"Guys... am I just stupid or what?"  

I put my head in my hand as I thought back to what had just happened a couple hours prior.  While I was in a daily work meeting, I saw several people moving about in the adjacent dishroom, where I was working on washing glassware.  Curious and nervous by the activity, I went to the dishroom entrance, where I saw that the room was flooded with a light layer of water.  Initially, I was adamant that despite being the last one in the dishroom prior to the flooding, I couldn't have possibly caused it.  I was responsible.  I would never cause something huge like that.  Yet after talking to my employer and eliminating all other possible causes, we discovered that it was indeed my fault: I had left a faucet running and a sink plugged for over 30 minutes.

Now sitting in my car in the parking lot of my gym, talking to my parents on the phone, I couldn't help but feel a flood of emotions.  Frustration.  Confusion.  Guilt.  And to top it all off, this was far from the first time I felt these things after a perceived screw-up, especially at work.

"Chris," came my mom's voice from the other line.  "Do you remember that time when you were a kid and we thought you might have ADHD?"

For a moment I was silent.  I did remember.  When I was in fifth or sixth grade, my parents started looking into having me assessed for ADHD when school became a major challenge (though my parents opted not to have me assessed due to the number of hoops we would have to jump through).  I often forgot to complete homework, and when I did remember, turning it in was a battle in and of itself.  In the classroom, I couldn't seem to remember to write assignments in my planner so I'd know what to do that evening, and paying attention in my more difficult subjects (math especially) was a near impossible task.  It didn't stop at school, however: at home I was spacey and often had my head in the clouds.  Once, while I was out riding my bike, I came home bloodied and bruised because I crashed my bike into a trash can.  I hadn't paid attention to the road - I had started daydreaming.

The lightbulb flicked on.

"Yeah," I said slowly.  "I do remember."  It made so much sense.  At that present moment, I didn't know much about ADHD, but I knew enough to know that it was a possibility.  Something just wasn't right with my brain.  I recognized that I couldn't diagnose myself with anything, ADHD included, but it definitely warranted more research and doctor's appointments.

My parents and I finished our conversation, and I hung up the phone, still feeling the same emotions from before, but now feeling some relief mixed in.  Maybe there was an answer for all the things I'd been experiencing since childhood.  Maybe I wasn't truly stupid, ditzy, lazy, incompetent - the different adjectives I'd slapped on myself in the past.  Maybe there truly was a disorder that could explain why simple tasks that my peers could accomplish felt impossible to me.

Right now, I am still not diagnosed with ADHD.  Being assessed and diagnosed is a complicated, lengthy, and expensive process.  But I'm taking the first steps to get closer to that assessment, and if I am diagnosed, it will open doors that will significantly make my life easier.  Accommodations, strategies, and other tools could help me live my life more "normally" and allow me to live more to my potential.

If there is one thing I could emphasize, it's this: I'm not looking for attention.  I mean, I'm seeking medical attention, but not special attention from those in my life.  I'm seeking answers and acceptance.  I need answers for how to best handle my brain, whether that comes with an ADHD diagnosis or not, and I need acceptance from others.  I recognize that some things that I say and do because of potential ADHD may be irritating or even downright hurtful.  I don't want to use ADHD to pass off my actions, but I do need grace as I learn to better understand my brain and work with it.  To say that I need that understanding feels almost demanding, but it's the truth.  And everyone else needs grace and compassion too, regardless of whether they have a disorder or not.