In 1996, when I was 30 yrs old, my little sister called me late at night one night to tell me that she knew what was “wrong with us”. She blurted out “We have ADD!!!!” She had done the self assessment and told me she had 12 of the 20 characteristics. I took the same test and had 18 of 20. It seemed like I was on to something.
The next day I went to the public library (we didn’t have a computer) and I found Sari Solden’s “Women With ADD” and read the first chapter in the library and wept. Finally!!!! Someone understood what I have always felt on the inside. You mean I’m not lazy, stupid or crazy? Really???
I found 7 books on adult ADD and when I went to check them out, I wasn’t allowed because I had forgotten to return my library books a year before that. I left them on the counter and went into my car and sobbed. How appropriate.
I bought the books and devoured them. I read my life in those words. No one had ever been able to see inside of me the way these authors had.
I found a therapist to evaluate me for ADD. We went through the gamut of tests. What he found was that I was highly intelligent, had poor short term memory, scored poorly for impulsivity and that my symptoms started in childhood and were found in all settings of my life…however…he decided that I wasn’t ADD but that I had dysthymia and wanted me to start anti-depressants.
So I went another 4 years without real treatment.
It wasn’t until my 7 yr old son…the one who was expelled from 3 daycares and suspended 5 times in kindergarten…that someone finally noticed that I was ADD as well.
Having a diagnosis is in itself a relief. At least there is a reason. But unfortunately, people tend to want to believe the worst about others and will assume that you are looking for an excuse.REPORT ABUSE