As a kid, I was always a little different. I was one of the more booksmart kids in my class. I won essay contests and earned A's. But there were other areas of my life that really made me struggle. I was very forgetful, and I could never keep my backpack, locker, or desk clean for very long. At Girl Scout camp, my tent was awarded the “Tornado Tent” two years in a row for how messy it was. My time management was never very good. I had trouble reading analog clocks for some reason, and would often hyperfocus on a task, not realizing how much time it was taking. I also had issues with prioritizing what to do first, and hated making decisions so much that I simply wouldn’t start a task because I didn’t know where to begin, worried that I would make the wrong choice.
Socially, I had a hard time dealing with peers who weren’t nice to me. It was really hard for me to just shrug off normal childhood taunts. This made me a target for bullying because of how much I would overreact. The middle school years? Don’t get me started. It was a constant barrage of girl drama.
Yet somehow I managed
I got pretty good grades in high school. I learned adaptive behaviors like keeping a meticulous planner AND a wall calendar, wearing a watch every day, and beginning tasks as soon as they were assigned to finish them as quickly as I could while still producing quality work, pushing myself to the limit to not allow myself any chances to procrastinate or forget what I was supposed to do. I went through therapy and used journaling and meditation to get a hold of my emotions and let go of grudges and slights.
In college, without the rigid structure of school, and with lots of things to distract me, I fell back into some bad habits. But part of the way through the first semester, when I realized that midterms were the next week, I taped a sign to my computer that said, in big red letters, “GET YOUR S—- TOGETHER.” Every time I saw it, I ran through my list of things I needed to do, and I worked on everything I could with the time I had, pushing myself on a constant grind.
I got straight A's in college
Seriously. All four years. So there was nothing wrong with me, right? On the surface, no. But that kind of excellence came at a higher cost for me than for a neurotypical with matching intellect. I thrived on panic and adrenaline. I never let myself rest, because, like a shark, if I stopped moving, I would die.
When I did have free time, I was so desperate for release that I turned to drugs and alcohol. I never let those affect my schooling, though it did affect my personal life in multiple ways. I still felt socially inept and like I didn’t quite fit in anywhere, even though I had many friends who seemed to like me, I felt like an imposter, like they would find out my secret someday — the secret that I wasn’t perfect. Or cool.
What I did not realize until I was 36 years old is that I have ADHD, which presents very differently in women and girls.
Most of the official symptoms make you think of boys who can’t sit still and want to punch their friends all the time
ADHD – Inattentive is a lot more about zoning out and lacking certain executive functioning skills like working memory, time management, planning, prioritization, and emotional regulation. It is also coupled with Rejection-Sensitive Dysphoria, a mental condition that creates intense suffering from any type of rejection, real or imagined. As a child, that came out in anger and frustration, and as a young adult, I just assumed that nobody was my real friend, or I had to be perfect to belong to my friend group.
After my diagnosis, I was prescribed Adderall, which, after a few adjustments, has helped me significantly, as well as getting on anti-anxiety medication. But after going through all of this, now I’m scared that I’m going to start seeing my childhood self in my daughter, who is 6.
Her teachers are already commenting on things like “she loses her items on the playground” and “her desk is always a mess”
She is behind her peers in reading, so I have to help her with first grade homework each night, and I see how she struggles to focus after a long day of school, fidgeting in her seat, not wanting to expend any more mental energy. Her handwriting is atrocious, same as mine was — an often-cited indicator of ADHD.
I love my Adderall, but the idea of medicating a 6-year-old just seems atrocious to me. She’s still growing and the chemistry of her body is going to change so much over the next few years. At this point, if I can avoid it, I want to. But is it worth it to get her evaluated?
I spent my first 37 years unmedicated and undiagnosed, and you can’t argue with the results
I’m a teacher with a master's degree and a published author. I got where I am today through sheer force of will. I had to find out how to counterbalance my deficits in executive functioning, and I did it. Medication doesn’t fix everything, and I still rely on the tools I’ve learned to help me along the way. If I just medicate her, or get her accommodations through a 504 plan, will she ever learn those helpful skills, or just expect the world to accommodate her (possible) disability?
I don’t want my daughter to be miserable, but I also want her to be as tough as I’ve become. Surely there is some kind of middle ground, but right now I don’t see it.
