(no subject)
the_xtina linked me, in the comments of my last post, to this: http://kaigou.dreamwidth.org/366919.html?format=light
It's a (long) post in response to someone who essentially says that ADD is "just artistic temperament" and you shouldn't take medication for it, and I think the post is an excellent argument for why that kind of thinking is not only wrong but incredibly harmful. But I also think it's an incredible post on what ADD is and how it affects your entire life. I almost cried, parts of it resonated so much. I've pulled a few quotes that really stuck with me, but I really, really encourage all of you to go read it. It's long, but beyond worth it.
"There'll always be something that causes her to fail -- losing two assignments, in quick repetition, for instance -- until her coworkers will whisper that she sets it up herself, that she's purposefully self-sabotaging. Assuming, of course, they don't interpret her as purposefully sabotaging the work-project, itself. She'll be aware of their whispers, and she'll work herself even harder, spiraling the stress even higher, until she cracks. She'll be the kind of person who comes in with amazing promises and potential, only to eventually shatter by the end.
She may not even ever finish projects, at all. The need to concentrate, to remember what comes next after completing this stage -- without massive and unyielding pressure from within (or a very understanding assistant willing to nag, from without) she'll probably completely forget that there is a next step, and turn in a project half-done. Or simply not finish it at all, and never think to notice it's not complete. That piece of information's been drowned out under the overwhelming chaos of all the other information coming at her.
She'll learn, then, to laugh at herself even as she hates herself, as she sees herself as a failure. She'll learn to hide her frustration, her anger at her own inability to "do everything" her friends and coworkers do. She'll learn to hoard work to herself, so her failures and incompetencies and special extensions aren't revealed to her peers, and that'll just compound the juggling-frustration even more, until it buries her.
When it does, it'll bury her under a ton of depression. That's almost always co-morbid with ADD/ADHD, even if from the outside, the average ADD/ADHD person sure looks awfully manic, cheerfully jittering from one random piece of information or conversational topic to the next. That's not cheerful, manic, tap-dancing, that's someone running just to stand still. It's exhausting and wearing and cumulative, and it can crush the person under the weight of all the ways they can't take in, process, and manage information like their peers.
She'll be the person who never lives up to her potential. She'll be the person who may be fun to be around, and always has twenty ongoing projects at home, but never finishes any of them. She'll be a living embodiment of out-of-sight, out-of-mind: she'll be late to interviews, dates, appointments, and meetings, and the more she's stressed, the greater the chance that some chance Discovery show will snap her frustrated mind into hyperfocus.
...
She'll learn to accept that her peers will see her need for quiet, secluded places while working as terribly anti-social, if not outright entitled if she thinks to request an empty conference room instead of working at her cubicle like everyone else."
Even though I had a family who worked with me and didn't belittle me after my diagnosis, and even though I am on the medication now, I wish I could share this with the whole world. It's revelatory, to me - let alone the people surrounding me, particularly as I grew up, I suspect - even now, that ADD isn't just a small thing. It's not just a slight quirk. It fundamentally changes my entire life. I am disabled, not just slightly different. Hugely, fundamentally different. Even knowing - and accepting - that I'm ADD, doesn't make me realise the extent of this. I'm still prone to beating myself up because it's hard to really comprehend how pervasive it is. It seems like such a small thing, or such a common thing, or a side thing. Not something that takes over and runs my entire life.
But it is.
It's a (long) post in response to someone who essentially says that ADD is "just artistic temperament" and you shouldn't take medication for it, and I think the post is an excellent argument for why that kind of thinking is not only wrong but incredibly harmful. But I also think it's an incredible post on what ADD is and how it affects your entire life. I almost cried, parts of it resonated so much. I've pulled a few quotes that really stuck with me, but I really, really encourage all of you to go read it. It's long, but beyond worth it.
"There'll always be something that causes her to fail -- losing two assignments, in quick repetition, for instance -- until her coworkers will whisper that she sets it up herself, that she's purposefully self-sabotaging. Assuming, of course, they don't interpret her as purposefully sabotaging the work-project, itself. She'll be aware of their whispers, and she'll work herself even harder, spiraling the stress even higher, until she cracks. She'll be the kind of person who comes in with amazing promises and potential, only to eventually shatter by the end.
She may not even ever finish projects, at all. The need to concentrate, to remember what comes next after completing this stage -- without massive and unyielding pressure from within (or a very understanding assistant willing to nag, from without) she'll probably completely forget that there is a next step, and turn in a project half-done. Or simply not finish it at all, and never think to notice it's not complete. That piece of information's been drowned out under the overwhelming chaos of all the other information coming at her.
She'll learn, then, to laugh at herself even as she hates herself, as she sees herself as a failure. She'll learn to hide her frustration, her anger at her own inability to "do everything" her friends and coworkers do. She'll learn to hoard work to herself, so her failures and incompetencies and special extensions aren't revealed to her peers, and that'll just compound the juggling-frustration even more, until it buries her.
When it does, it'll bury her under a ton of depression. That's almost always co-morbid with ADD/ADHD, even if from the outside, the average ADD/ADHD person sure looks awfully manic, cheerfully jittering from one random piece of information or conversational topic to the next. That's not cheerful, manic, tap-dancing, that's someone running just to stand still. It's exhausting and wearing and cumulative, and it can crush the person under the weight of all the ways they can't take in, process, and manage information like their peers.
She'll be the person who never lives up to her potential. She'll be the person who may be fun to be around, and always has twenty ongoing projects at home, but never finishes any of them. She'll be a living embodiment of out-of-sight, out-of-mind: she'll be late to interviews, dates, appointments, and meetings, and the more she's stressed, the greater the chance that some chance Discovery show will snap her frustrated mind into hyperfocus.
...
She'll learn to accept that her peers will see her need for quiet, secluded places while working as terribly anti-social, if not outright entitled if she thinks to request an empty conference room instead of working at her cubicle like everyone else."
Even though I had a family who worked with me and didn't belittle me after my diagnosis, and even though I am on the medication now, I wish I could share this with the whole world. It's revelatory, to me - let alone the people surrounding me, particularly as I grew up, I suspect - even now, that ADD isn't just a small thing. It's not just a slight quirk. It fundamentally changes my entire life. I am disabled, not just slightly different. Hugely, fundamentally different. Even knowing - and accepting - that I'm ADD, doesn't make me realise the extent of this. I'm still prone to beating myself up because it's hard to really comprehend how pervasive it is. It seems like such a small thing, or such a common thing, or a side thing. Not something that takes over and runs my entire life.
But it is.