Living With ADHD (Part 1)

The diagnosis came when I was 32. It was November, autumn had taken over: the leaves had turned yellow, the summer sun had given way to gray skies, the cold enveloped everything, including me. I had been feeling cold for a long time: I felt that inside me there was a piece of a puzzle that never quite fit with the others. I was one, but only half. Perhaps I was broken.

That day had started like any other: wake up, work, household chores. Then 6 p.m. arrived, the time of my therapy session. I imagined everything except that my ears, on that very day, in that chair, would hear those words: “I think you have ADHD, why don't we start a process to confirm it?” Suddenly, I felt only warmth. The cold was gone, swept away by a ray of sunshine: my discomfort had a name and a surname, I no longer had to fight against myself, I had an “enemy,” I could make it my friend. I had all the weapons, all the tools I needed to

I wasn't wrong, I had just been in the wrong place in the world for 32 years.

I am not a diagnosis, but having one helped me understand who I really am.

I'm not disinterested: I'm distracted.

I don't have trouble getting things done because I can't get excited about them.

I don't let my mind wander to other worlds while people are talking because I'm not interested in what they're saying.

I'm not constantly distracted because I'm not smart enough to follow a conversation.

I don't have trouble staying still in one place for too long because I'm restless.

I don't have outbursts of anger because I'm mean.

I don't have mood swings because I'm crazy.

I don't always move my hands and feet because I'm

I don't have obsessions because I'm morbid.

I don't have difficulty forming bonds because my heart isn't big enough. On the contrary, my heart is too big, so much so that it hurts at the idea of always being able to brush against others without ever touching them. Yet that's how it is. The distance between me and the world is evident, it exists, it's a fact. For many years, I felt like I was observing my life instead of living it: dreaming was almost better than having, because in my dreams everything was perfect.

I was still me, but I was different: I had a new light, because I could finally begin to get to know myself, but really do so for the first time.

Not everything was easy: I had to come to terms with myself, understand that mine were not mood swings but emotional dysregulation and, as such, needed to be treated. First of all, I had to admit to myself that psychotherapy might not be enough and that I would need medication. I let my guard down and welcomed all the advice and opinions of those who knew more than me. It is not an easy journey, but it is a journey that was worth taking.

Can I say that I know myself today? Perhaps not 100%, but certainly more than before. Let's be clear: ADHD is not a disease and, as such, cannot be cured. But it is possible to learn to live with it, and sometimes it is even easier than it seems.

Don't be afraid to ask for help if you feel you need it: there is a remedy for everything, perhaps the solution is right in front of you, you just need to open your eyes, focus, and see it.