I told you all last week that I would tell you the story of my ADD. It has taken me some time to completely understand that having ADD has made me who I am today. I warn you ahead of time, this is long, but well worth it!
Growing up, I was never what one would consider the “Academic” type. I did very poorly and never made the grades that my friends and siblings did. I was the quiet, shy, sweet natured girl who sat in the back of the class to avoid getting called on. It was my way of trying to be inconspicuous. I have never been the “organized” neat freak, and I probably never will be. I was tested for learning disabilities at the recommendation of teachers and administrative officials at my junior high school. I just wasn’t doing well, and because I “Looked” smart, it was expected that I would be brilliant in the world of academia. The psychiatrist who tested me, while, generally sweet, put me in a small testing room; gave me a pencil and a book full of activities to complete. All of the “test” questions seemed to lean on the “creative” side. I have a very creative brain, and was able to come up with creative answers to those test questions. After the series of tests, the psychiatrist called us and wanted to meet with us. I chose not to go, because I didn’t want to know if I would be “LD”. Well, instead, my parents went, and came back with the kiss of death answer. (This is NOT in anyway my parents fault… this was the psychiatrist who didn’t go further into testing) I was completely normal with an “above average” intelligence. My brain leans towards the “creative” thought process (really.. No kidding!!). So the psychiatrist confirmed what the teachers had been telling everyone… That “Christie just didn’t want it bad enough.”, “It’s just being Lazy.”, “She’s a Daydreamer”. Those words haunt me still. The truth is, I did want it bad enough. I mean, really, who in the hell wants to fight with their parents every time a progress report comes out or a report card comes out, and there is a D or an F on there? Why would I put myself through the torture of upsetting my parents like that? I would make A’s and B’s in art classes, English classes, and electives, but only because those are my strong points, they allowed my brain to work to it’s advantage.
Well, High School brought on new challenges, none of them too devastating. My Junior year brought on an opportunity to do a group research paper. Our group selected Attention Deficit Disorder. My section of the paper was to research the symptoms of ADD. I found very little research on this, due to the fact that ADD was just starting to be recognized globally. What I did find, were definitions of what my life was like. It wasn’t just your classic text book symptoms, these symptoms defined me! After the project was completed, I took my knowledge home, and got up the courage to actually ASK my parents to be tested for this. They thought that I had been tested for ADD already, and so they declined it. I kept pushing, and upon my persistence, they agreed to get me tested in the fall of 1996.
I remember the day very clearly. September 29, 1996, it was raining, and my mother and I were called back to the doctors office and asked to sit down in two chairs that faced his desk. My folder sitting there with my name on it opened to a diagnosis sheet. I remember that he started off by talking about recommendations, and frontal lobe differences etc…. I remember specifically asking him to stop, and proceeded to ask him “So you mean, I have this?” and he nodded and said “Indeed you do!”. The moment he said that, this boulder that had been sitting on my shoulders since I entered grade school, began to lift off of me. I wasn’t lazy, I wanted it bad enough, and I wanted to prove to everyone that I was not stupid! I got a euphoric sense of relief the minute the diagnosis was handed to me.
The ride home was somewhat somber, and I looked over at my mom, and she had tears in her eyes. She kept saying she was so sorry, and kept asking the dreaded “What If” questions. “What if you would have been diagnosed earlier?”, “What if we could have changed these learned behaviors to help you?”… I looked at her, and said that this diagnosis was NOT a bad thing, and that they can’t blame themselves! They did what they could to find out what was wrong with me. They never expected the same things from one child to the next. They had individual expectations for all of us, which I think helped me in the long run. They did what they thought best at the time, with the information they had received from various different individuals. I know that was a blow to my parents, however, I’m thankful that we finally had an answer!
I was put on Adderall (this was prior to the XR), and life seemed to fall into place. My senior year in High School was one of my best. I got a main roll in a play, I did very well on my Senior Exit Project, I wrote my own play, and I developed friendships that have lasted me into adulthood, and I scored pretty well on my SAT. Graduation Day, I got my diploma, and when I went to meet my parents after the ceremony, I cried.. I cried hard. No one really understood what that diploma meant to myself and my parents. No one really knew the struggles that I had encountered along the way. That diploma stood for every teacher that told me that I did not want it bad enough! It stood for every teacher that believed in me, and encouraged me along the way.
I decided to go to Community College and do a transfer program. This allowed me to stay on track with things, and allowed me to transition easier into a mainstream college atmosphere. After two years of community college. I was accepted into my dream school. Really, one of the only schools that I really applied to! I was to become a student of Appalachian State University. My first semester there, I did great! I was on a roll, and second semester, I did okay, still not 100%, but better than most! I lived in the dorms, and had a great roommate. The atmosphere of ASU was amazing! I loved it up there! My second year there, I moved into an apartment with three other roommates. I don’t know what caused my downward spiral, but I hit a wall. All of the euphoria of the diagnosis had worn off, and I remember sitting in my room in my apartment, crying. I used to hide away in my room, and just not come out. Everyone wondered why, but I couldn’t tell them, because I didn’t even know why.
That summer, I decided to attend summer school, but even that didn’t do anything for me. I decided to come home and go to community college again, and figure my life out. I failed miserably. The depression hovered over me, and I was MISERABLE! 9/11 occurred, and I felt guilty for being so down, because all of these people had just lost loved ones, and the country had lost so much, and here I was just sitting there feeling sorry for myself. I stopped taking Adderall because I stopped getting the results I saw when I first started taking the meds. January of 2002, I decided to change doctors, and seek out a counselor. I saw the counselor first, and the minute I sat down on the couch, she asked me how I was doing, and the tears just came from somewhere deep inside of me. I allowed myself to be vulnerable in order to heal. That was the best decision I have ever made. I was diagnosed with Depression, and turns out, the original dose of medicine given to me, was far below what I should have had. My new doctor put me on 40 mgs daily of Adderall XR.
I ended up getting a great job at a daycare, and when life felt like it was getting better, I decided to go back to school at ASU. The summer of 2003, I went back to Boone, NC and started taking classes. I did great with my summer classes, which geared me up for the Fall semester. That when it all hit me again… School was not my strong point, and I was too old for the “College” lifestyle, that just about everyone in Boone lives. Somewhere in those 2.5 years I had been gone, I grew up. I learned lessons, and I knew what I wanted and what I didn’t want. So Fall of 2003 was my last semester in Boone, NC. I came home, and found an EXCELLENT job that I am still at, and I love it. I don’t regret not finishing up school. I have so many different classes under my belt, that one of these days, I can go back for 2 years and I could have three degrees. I don’t think I’m to that point yet though.
My story is never ending. For the people who told me that I was lazy, and who told me I didn’t want it bad enough, and that I just wasn’t made for it…. Guess what… I’m thanking you in this post! If it weren’t for you… I don’t know if I would have tried so hard to prove you wrong. I use your words for ammunition whenever I come across something that myself or others think that I can’t do…. I do it! My failures in life have equaled one great Success.. and that, is ME! :-)
The following is a poem that someone sent to me and I thought it compliments this post quite well!
In Trying Times Don’t Quit Trying
Somebody said that it couldn’t be done,
But with a chuckle he replied,
That “maybe it couldn’t” but he would be one
Who wouldn’t do so till he’d tried.
So he buckled right in with a trace of a grin
On his face. If he worried, he hid it.
He started to sing as he tackled the thing
That couldn’t be done. And he did it.
Somebody scoffed: “Oh you’ll never do that,
At least no one ever has done it.”
But he took off his coat and took off his hat
And the first thing he knew he’d begun it.
With the lift of his chin and a bit of a a grin,
If any doubt rose he forbid it;
He started to sing as he tackled the thing
That couldn’t’ be done, and he did it.
There are thousands to tell you it cannot be done,
There are thousands to prophesy failure;
There are thousands to point out to you, one by one,
The dangers that wait to assail you,
But just buckle right in with a bit of a grin,
Then take off your coat and go to it.
Just start in to sing as you tackle the thing
That cannot be done, and you’ll do it!
-Unknown
Growing up, I was never what one would consider the “Academic” type. I did very poorly and never made the grades that my friends and siblings did. I was the quiet, shy, sweet natured girl who sat in the back of the class to avoid getting called on. It was my way of trying to be inconspicuous. I have never been the “organized” neat freak, and I probably never will be. I was tested for learning disabilities at the recommendation of teachers and administrative officials at my junior high school. I just wasn’t doing well, and because I “Looked” smart, it was expected that I would be brilliant in the world of academia. The psychiatrist who tested me, while, generally sweet, put me in a small testing room; gave me a pencil and a book full of activities to complete. All of the “test” questions seemed to lean on the “creative” side. I have a very creative brain, and was able to come up with creative answers to those test questions. After the series of tests, the psychiatrist called us and wanted to meet with us. I chose not to go, because I didn’t want to know if I would be “LD”. Well, instead, my parents went, and came back with the kiss of death answer. (This is NOT in anyway my parents fault… this was the psychiatrist who didn’t go further into testing) I was completely normal with an “above average” intelligence. My brain leans towards the “creative” thought process (really.. No kidding!!). So the psychiatrist confirmed what the teachers had been telling everyone… That “Christie just didn’t want it bad enough.”, “It’s just being Lazy.”, “She’s a Daydreamer”. Those words haunt me still. The truth is, I did want it bad enough. I mean, really, who in the hell wants to fight with their parents every time a progress report comes out or a report card comes out, and there is a D or an F on there? Why would I put myself through the torture of upsetting my parents like that? I would make A’s and B’s in art classes, English classes, and electives, but only because those are my strong points, they allowed my brain to work to it’s advantage.
Well, High School brought on new challenges, none of them too devastating. My Junior year brought on an opportunity to do a group research paper. Our group selected Attention Deficit Disorder. My section of the paper was to research the symptoms of ADD. I found very little research on this, due to the fact that ADD was just starting to be recognized globally. What I did find, were definitions of what my life was like. It wasn’t just your classic text book symptoms, these symptoms defined me! After the project was completed, I took my knowledge home, and got up the courage to actually ASK my parents to be tested for this. They thought that I had been tested for ADD already, and so they declined it. I kept pushing, and upon my persistence, they agreed to get me tested in the fall of 1996.
I remember the day very clearly. September 29, 1996, it was raining, and my mother and I were called back to the doctors office and asked to sit down in two chairs that faced his desk. My folder sitting there with my name on it opened to a diagnosis sheet. I remember that he started off by talking about recommendations, and frontal lobe differences etc…. I remember specifically asking him to stop, and proceeded to ask him “So you mean, I have this?” and he nodded and said “Indeed you do!”. The moment he said that, this boulder that had been sitting on my shoulders since I entered grade school, began to lift off of me. I wasn’t lazy, I wanted it bad enough, and I wanted to prove to everyone that I was not stupid! I got a euphoric sense of relief the minute the diagnosis was handed to me.
The ride home was somewhat somber, and I looked over at my mom, and she had tears in her eyes. She kept saying she was so sorry, and kept asking the dreaded “What If” questions. “What if you would have been diagnosed earlier?”, “What if we could have changed these learned behaviors to help you?”… I looked at her, and said that this diagnosis was NOT a bad thing, and that they can’t blame themselves! They did what they could to find out what was wrong with me. They never expected the same things from one child to the next. They had individual expectations for all of us, which I think helped me in the long run. They did what they thought best at the time, with the information they had received from various different individuals. I know that was a blow to my parents, however, I’m thankful that we finally had an answer!
I was put on Adderall (this was prior to the XR), and life seemed to fall into place. My senior year in High School was one of my best. I got a main roll in a play, I did very well on my Senior Exit Project, I wrote my own play, and I developed friendships that have lasted me into adulthood, and I scored pretty well on my SAT. Graduation Day, I got my diploma, and when I went to meet my parents after the ceremony, I cried.. I cried hard. No one really understood what that diploma meant to myself and my parents. No one really knew the struggles that I had encountered along the way. That diploma stood for every teacher that told me that I did not want it bad enough! It stood for every teacher that believed in me, and encouraged me along the way.
I decided to go to Community College and do a transfer program. This allowed me to stay on track with things, and allowed me to transition easier into a mainstream college atmosphere. After two years of community college. I was accepted into my dream school. Really, one of the only schools that I really applied to! I was to become a student of Appalachian State University. My first semester there, I did great! I was on a roll, and second semester, I did okay, still not 100%, but better than most! I lived in the dorms, and had a great roommate. The atmosphere of ASU was amazing! I loved it up there! My second year there, I moved into an apartment with three other roommates. I don’t know what caused my downward spiral, but I hit a wall. All of the euphoria of the diagnosis had worn off, and I remember sitting in my room in my apartment, crying. I used to hide away in my room, and just not come out. Everyone wondered why, but I couldn’t tell them, because I didn’t even know why.
That summer, I decided to attend summer school, but even that didn’t do anything for me. I decided to come home and go to community college again, and figure my life out. I failed miserably. The depression hovered over me, and I was MISERABLE! 9/11 occurred, and I felt guilty for being so down, because all of these people had just lost loved ones, and the country had lost so much, and here I was just sitting there feeling sorry for myself. I stopped taking Adderall because I stopped getting the results I saw when I first started taking the meds. January of 2002, I decided to change doctors, and seek out a counselor. I saw the counselor first, and the minute I sat down on the couch, she asked me how I was doing, and the tears just came from somewhere deep inside of me. I allowed myself to be vulnerable in order to heal. That was the best decision I have ever made. I was diagnosed with Depression, and turns out, the original dose of medicine given to me, was far below what I should have had. My new doctor put me on 40 mgs daily of Adderall XR.
I ended up getting a great job at a daycare, and when life felt like it was getting better, I decided to go back to school at ASU. The summer of 2003, I went back to Boone, NC and started taking classes. I did great with my summer classes, which geared me up for the Fall semester. That when it all hit me again… School was not my strong point, and I was too old for the “College” lifestyle, that just about everyone in Boone lives. Somewhere in those 2.5 years I had been gone, I grew up. I learned lessons, and I knew what I wanted and what I didn’t want. So Fall of 2003 was my last semester in Boone, NC. I came home, and found an EXCELLENT job that I am still at, and I love it. I don’t regret not finishing up school. I have so many different classes under my belt, that one of these days, I can go back for 2 years and I could have three degrees. I don’t think I’m to that point yet though.
My story is never ending. For the people who told me that I was lazy, and who told me I didn’t want it bad enough, and that I just wasn’t made for it…. Guess what… I’m thanking you in this post! If it weren’t for you… I don’t know if I would have tried so hard to prove you wrong. I use your words for ammunition whenever I come across something that myself or others think that I can’t do…. I do it! My failures in life have equaled one great Success.. and that, is ME! :-)
The following is a poem that someone sent to me and I thought it compliments this post quite well!
In Trying Times Don’t Quit Trying
Somebody said that it couldn’t be done,
But with a chuckle he replied,
That “maybe it couldn’t” but he would be one
Who wouldn’t do so till he’d tried.
So he buckled right in with a trace of a grin
On his face. If he worried, he hid it.
He started to sing as he tackled the thing
That couldn’t be done. And he did it.
Somebody scoffed: “Oh you’ll never do that,
At least no one ever has done it.”
But he took off his coat and took off his hat
And the first thing he knew he’d begun it.
With the lift of his chin and a bit of a a grin,
If any doubt rose he forbid it;
He started to sing as he tackled the thing
That couldn’t’ be done, and he did it.
There are thousands to tell you it cannot be done,
There are thousands to prophesy failure;
There are thousands to point out to you, one by one,
The dangers that wait to assail you,
But just buckle right in with a bit of a grin,
Then take off your coat and go to it.
Just start in to sing as you tackle the thing
That cannot be done, and you’ll do it!
-Unknown
No comments:
Post a Comment