I have always had a problem with procrastination, follow-through, and concentration. In school, I was constantly being chastised for daydreaming. One notable moment in sixth grade, we had a last minute review session before a test. The teacher asked a question I actually knew. My hand shot up and when he called on me, I confidently gave my response.
After an awkward pause, he frowned. "That was the first question in the test," he told me accusingly. "You just gave everyone the answer."
I was mortified and shamed. Somehow, we'd gone from test review to the actual test and I hadn't even noticed. I endured the rest of the period barely holding back tears and failed the test.
I finished high school with decent grades, but college ate me alive. The lack of structure, no guidance on studying, the freedom to go to class or not ... I'm sure you know where this is going. After a year and a half, I accepted that I was the stupid one in my family and dropped out.
But finishing college was always a big goal for me, so after I got married, I tried again. I enrolled at a community college and took some very basic math and science courses (my weakest subjects) to get back on track. I set up an aggressive study routine, kept fastidious notes, pestered my teachers with questions, and never missed a class. I finished the semester with straight A's and on the President's List.
A year later, after a few more straight A semesters of community college, I reapplied to the university I'd dropped out of, and was accepted. I followed the same routine as before, putting all my effort and energy into school. I was on the Dean's List and graduated with honors. Several of my professors asked me to be their teaching assistants, and one offered me a job at his successful company that laid the foundations for my career.
So I guess you could say it worked out. But it was a grind. Every step was a conscious effort, a strain to keep going, a clenched teeth endurance test to make myself focus, learn, and remember.
Where am I going with this? Two months ago (in 2024), I spoke to a psychiatrist for the first time. I have battled depression for more than 20 years, but I've always treated it with mild meds, a bit of therapy, and a "buck up, it could be worse" approach. Depression runs in my family, so I assumed this was the way it was.
But at the beginning of the year, I hit a new low that made me decide to really try therapy, and she suggested a consult with the psychiatrist. To make this long story a bit shorter, I was diagnosed with ADHD. At the age of ... well, NOT young.
You guys: an hour after I took that first ADHD pill, something changed. I felt different. Like my brain was able to take a deep breath, for the first time in my life.
I can focus, I can absorb information, I can write.
Don't get me wrong, I have always loved writing, but some of it has been a grind. I joke about falling down internet research rabbit holes, but it's a real thing. I can't even guess how much time I've wasted because I've clicked to a browser to research weather conditions in Southwest Montana (while writing Tamarack Ridge) and two hours later I find myself reading about medieval garment making.
But yesterday I wrote 10,000 words and hardly broke a sweat. It feels like a miracle.
Not to say it will be easy, I want my stories to have depth and heart and I will continue to bleed over them. But the medication has made all the difference in my ability to focus. To actually finish a thought and follow through with a scene before I forget what I'd wanted to portray.
To be clear, I don't blame anyone for this late diagnosis. We didn't know about this kind of thing when I was in middle school. Yes, I do mourn a little what I maybe could have done if I'd had the right brain chemistry, but it's not anyone's fault. The best part is that I know now. I have help now. I am am moving forward now.
Please get tested if you think this sounds familiar. Please get help if you are depressed. Get tested if you are not sure. Don't suffer alone and don't wait as long as I did. There is help and it does make a difference. I promise.
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