When I was four years old, I ran into a gate at school and knocked all of my front teeth up into my gums. I had to wear either a retainer or braces for the rest of my childhood. I remember this horrific accident like it was yesterday, not over 18 years ago. I was running ahead of my class, and I looked behind me to make sure they weren't too far back. By the time I looked forward again, it was too late, and I had already gotten to the gate. While this might sound like your average childhood trauma, it was only one of many for me. When I was six, I cut my hand open trying to reach something high up in the medicine cabinet, as the shelves were made of glass. When I was seven, I rode my bike into a rose bush. From the time that I could crawl to today, when I tripped over a stroller at work, I've always been more than a little clumsy. Unfortunately, this isn't something I'll ever be able to grow out of, because my clumsiness is attributed to my Attention Deficit Hyperactivity Disorder (ADHD).
These days, ADHD gets a really bad rap. Parents are pretty quick to diagnose their hyperactive children with ADHD, when they're usually just being kids, which results in a lot of people discounting that the disease exists at all. It isn't just about having a lot of energy or being unable to concentrate; it's about being unable to function like everyone else. Before I was diagnosed, my mind always felt like it was going a mile a minute. If I didn't talk quickly and excessively, I was worried I wouldn't have time to say everything that I felt that I needed to say. I remember my dad once asked me why I spoke so quickly; at only eight or so, I told him that I spoke as quickly as the thoughts popped into my head, for fear they would go away.
It wasn't just the fact that I was accident-prone and excessively talkative that tipped my parents off; I also couldn't sit still in class, and not in the same way that other children had trouble staying focused. I would get in trouble almost every single day for not sitting in my chair, but I couldn't help it. I couldn't sit down. I just couldn't do it. If I sat down for more than a couple of minutes, I felt that the world was absolutely going to end if I sat down and stayed quiet. The fact that I always finished my tests and assignments so quickly made this even more difficult; I was a smart kid, and school came pretty naturally to me. It really pained my teachers to call my parents and let them know that while my grades were excellent, my behavior in class was unsatisfactory.
When my older sister was diagnosed with Attention Deficit Disorder (ADD), the inability to focus but without the hyperactivity, my parents wondered if that could explain why I was the way I was. The final push they needed was my teacher calling home, once again, to say that I was disrupting class by talking out of turn. I remember my mom asked me why I couldn't just concentrate on keeping quiet, even for a little bit. I told her I couldn't concentrate with all the noise; to my surprise, she told me that the noise was me! I was literally talking so quickly and so often that I didn't even realize when I was doing it anymore. That was the only answer she needed to book me an appointment with my sister's doctor. Funnily enough, my dad realized he had ADD as well when the doctor was asking me questions about my life and how I function on a day-to-day basis. He never realized that he had been so distracted his whole life! Things are much easier for him now. It runs in the family, I guess.
My life became so much easier once I began taking medication. Suddenly, sitting down wasn't so difficult for me. I learned how to speak a little slower, and I finally understand what my mom meant when she told me that it was okay to have some quiet time. It was such a relief to finally have my brain slow down to a normal speed, at least for me. That's not to say that I don't still talk quickly when I get excited, or make some pretty impulsive decisions, but I'm able to live my life now like everyone else. I still get distracted really easily, and you can usually find me tapping my foot or fidgeting to relieve my excess energy. My default is to still talk a mile a minute, but at least now I can recognize when I'm speaking too quickly and slow down if I choose to.
While an ADHD diagnosis might not be right for everyone, it was certainly right for me. I'm so grateful that my parents were able to recognize the problem and help me manage it while I was still young, which allowed me to lead a fairly normal life and grow into an adult without my disorder weighing me down.
