the mother of personal epiphanies.

When I was diagnosed with Cyclothymia, years ago, it didn't feel right.  And even though I'm aware that it's possible to be simultaneously afflicted with, say, an anxiety disorder, or depression, or even the bipolarism, along with AD/HD, I don't think that's the case for me.  (Although I'm quite certain I possess a tendency toward obsessive/compulsiveness.  Example, and please understand that it brings me no small sense of horror to air this to anyone other than myself and my partner, although to do so is freeing and also helps communicate the seriousness of my malady:  I often go large spans of time without showering because of my phobia regarding the cleanliness of the locations where such things are done.  Kind of hilariously ironic, non?  I can't get clean because the place where I should be cleaning myself isn't clean enough.  It just makes me laugh and *laugh*.  Really.  Oh, so funny.)  (Cristina, I was freshly showered when we hung out.  I can let the phobia go in hotel rooms, for some random reason I cannot explain.  A place I was staying when we met.  So.  You can heave a sigh of relief that your newborn babe is not going to live its life as a leper thanks to my scaly, unshowered mess of a self.)  (And Blogher-met friends - same story.  Hotel room.  Hotel room showers.  Safe from lildb brand of leprosy.  For nowwwww.  Duh-duh-duh.)

Anyway.  This just couldn't feel more appropriate, this potential diagnosis, something I hope to confirm through means of scientific head-nodding tomorrow (I have an appointment to discuss just that thing with my doc in the afternoon).

Please understand - I've never felt so sure of something before.  Every single item on the list fits me to an absolute T, even the knowledge that I've had this thing hanging around my whole life, from the time that I was small.  Any one of my teachers would probably agree, and if my parents believed in the possiblity of mental imbalance as a real-life tangible instead of the figment of my clearly-silly head that it must be in their minds, they'd assuredly chime in with their agreement.  (Nothing like being supported by one's parents.  It's AWESOME.)

I've just always, ALWAYS wondered why I couldn't make myself behave like my peers, and I sort of just hoped I'd eventually fade into the correct attitude and behavior, like the chameleon I often flatter myself to be, with time and maturity.  And it's never happened.  I'm still a sore thumb, a crazed, over-loud, inappropriately boisterous freakshow that can somehow never manage to keep track of anything and is always late, always interrupting, always hopping from one! exciting! genius! new! sparkly! better-than-ever! idea! to the next, without even recalling what the last thing was, five minutes after it's been hatched.  I miss information all the time because I drop out of the conversation because I'm so absorbed with whether so-and-so thinks I just looked at her boobs even though I was merely looking down to check whether my leg hair was announcing itself to the masses or if it was just me thinking it might be doing so, and then it seemed like I might've been staring at her chest, only I really wasn't, but then I couldn't. stop. thinking about it, the idea that she thought I was doing so, and ?  I'm sorry, could you repeat that last paragraph, please?  Or maybe I was solving a quantam physics equation, but the point is the same.  I miss things, and then I don't want to be rude so I pretend I heard it, and then I just feel like an UBER idiot because I have no idea what's going on, and it FUCKING AFFECTS MY SOCIAL LIFE, OKAY?  I've had the rockiest friendships since I was a kid because everyone thought I was so inattentive and self-absorbed, although, gosh, I can't see why they didn't love those traits, since they're such good friend-making qualities.  Actually, I'm quite good at *making* friends because I'm funny and gregarious, but in the friend-keeping dept., not. so. much.  And this is a result of years of the same cycles, of being attractive enough, both physically and personally, to draw in any number of aspiring compadres; but somewhere along the line, I know they'll find me out, they'll discover my incapacity to be anything but late, self-absorbed, inattentive, uncommitted, interrupting, loud, over-excited, silly, etc., and I sabotage the relationship in order to not allow the usual rejection to occur.  I'm damaged by this thing, this AD/HD thing.  I'm not broken, but I'm damaged.  And frankly, if I'm gonna have been damaged by something, I want to know its name.  I want to know just who, just what I'm doing battle with on a minute-by-minute basis.  I want to wrestle with a creature who isn't hidden in a fog, and when I KICK ITS FUCKING ASS, I want to see it writhe in its frustrated, inevitable throes of clutching, ever-weakening gasps.

Yeah.

And I refuse to be ashamed anymore.

Comments

[Mary]

I know it's important to find out, because not knowing is scary. But I love you regardless. You are amazing.

[canape]

*Hoping it's okay to be a smart ass at this point*

I'm sorry, did you say something?

Slackermommy is right. You are endearing, Dear.

[Ruth Dynamite]

Seek answers for your own peace of mind, but know this: we love you just the way you are.

[Paula]

Hey there, you fierce warrior woman you.

I have similar trouble keeping friends. Somewhere along the way some sort of disconnect happens that I completely miss, and I'm left wondering, what the HELL did I do? Was it me? Does it matter?

I'm lucky to have a few friends who are the same way, aware of it, and consequently cut me a little slack. Otherwise I'd have no friends. And that would just suck.

Big hugs, grrl.

[Emily]

Diagnosis = very good thing.

If we do ever meet IRL, will you please at least pretend to check out my boobs? No one does that anymore...

[aunt penni]

I think you are being a little hard on yourself...this old friend is still around...still loves you...xoxox

[kerrianne]

Every time I don't think I can love you more you go and say something that makes me want to hug you. Or stand next to you and practice my mad ninja skillz, because, hey, don't mess with my girl. Not that I would kick you! you see. Just the thing that needed an ass-kicking. I'm helpful like that. xoxo

[MelanieinOrygun]

Dude, I just wanted to put this out there - I still consider myself your friend, and would be glad to see you again anytime. If you're terrible at keeping up with friends, I'm a trainwreck at it. People have to hunt me down in my hermitage to see me, seriously. So please don't take my inattention as a sign of offense or whatever, because it isn't. I just suck, is all.
As for the rest, I am waiting with bated breath for the results of your scientific head-nodding experience. And I, too, hope you kick its ever-loving ass.
But if that doesn't come about immediately, I still think you're fucking awesome as you are.
The end.

[Gwen]

Deb, I hope you do some serious ass kicking. But if that isn't entirely effective, I will just ask my mom to pray for you. That's what she offered to me for my post partum depression. Shockingly, it didn't quite work.... but it could for you, oh yes.

See, now I feel like a tool for snarking about my friend who claims to have AD/HD, but she sounds nothing like what you're describing, honestly.

Go get 'em, grrrrl.

[Dawn]

No, my love. No shame.

Just revealing a bit more of who you are. Every cycle is like uncovering a dusty artifact ( this is how I am thinking of it right now) and you get to piece together who you really are - the you that YOU knew was there all along.

And sweetie - we odd, hermit like social phobics with no visible verbal filter LOVE the gregarious bouncy crazy ones.

Own your crazy baby - there is nothing wrong with it.

[Suebob]

I will love to see you kick its ass! Go!

[Michele]

Sounds spot on, everything you said. It can only go up from here. Slackermommy is right, a diagnosis does give you control. Knowledge is power.

[Jennifer]

No matter what, I love your candor. I love you.

I grew up with a brother who is adhd and it was a fucking nightmare. good for you in proclaiming war on this beast.

I want to see you kick its fucking ass. I want to know it can be done.

[bubandpie]

My sister is the clearest-cut case of ADHD anyone could imagine (there was never any question of a diagnosis in her case) and as I recall, you responded with much recognition to my description of her over a year ago. You're definitely on the track of something here.

I've been thinking a lot lately about issues of diagnosis, since Bub falls below most thresholds for an autism/Asperger's diagnosis - but, but, but...I feel like he'll do better with some kind of framework for understanding the particular struggles he has had and is having with social interaction. Yours is another voice confirming this feeling.

If only there were a way to blend our personalities to arrive at the happy medium when it comes to bathroom cleanliness, because seriously, my bathroom? *shudder*

[jen]

slackers got OCD too - all those multiple comments. dude. kidding.

good for you, love. good for you.

[slackermommy]

Good for you, honey. Your description of yourself sounds a lot like my oldest who has ADHD, Tourette's, OCD, CAPD, and anxiety. Depression and bipolar runs in my family. I've suffered from depression since I was 12. No surprise that my kids have issues.

I'm glad you are seeking help. Getting a diagnosis gives you back your control.

I find it hard to believe that you have trouble making friends. I think you are wonderful and endearing.

[slackermommy]

Good for you, honey. Your description of yourself sounds a lot like my oldest who has ADHD, Tourette's, OCD, CAPD, and anxiety. Depression and bipolar runs in my family. I've suffered from depression since I was 12. No surprise that my kids have issues.

I'm glad you are seeking help. Getting a diagnosis gives you back your control.

I find it hard to believe that you have trouble making friends. I think you are wonderful and endearing.