The status of one’s mental health is often considered taboo by those that don’t truly understand the burden of feeling “wrong” or “unhinged.” I was diagnosed with Attention Deficit Hyperactivity Disorder, or ADHD, when I was about 11 years old. Science and chemical imbalances aside, ADHD for me means many things. This diagnosis was surprisingly exciting for me in the beginning, as I typically enjoyed my impulsiveness, as well as being unique in my self-perception. I spent the next several years defining my ADHD as being my creative side, my happy side, my eccentric side. My first psychiatrist was a good woman whose name I loved because of a resemblance to that of Genghis Khan. The first thing I ever said to her, was to ask if there was a relation, HA. This humor aside, my first medication phase was anything but enjoyable. I tried prescriptions of stimulants—Adderall, Ritalin, and Concerta—all of which left me a moody, and disagreeable shell of myself. I attempted a non-stimulant one weekend, that left me physically sick. These first attempts at medicating my “issues” lasted no more than a few months.

The biggest negative of my ADHD that I can recall from the early parts around my diagnosis, was the helplessness I felt when I became overstimulated. I remember a birthday party when nothing went right for me. I was to have friends over for a party after school, to hang outside and play, but the weather did not comply, as it rained. The day got worse when I got into a fight on the way home from school, and I remember getting a knee to the face. Even with that, the party didn’t hit rock bottom until I ended up in my basement alone to get away from people and cry, as I was overstimulated from all the people, the voices, and the attention.

How does one explain the feeling of overstimulation to someone that is “normal?” The simplest way to explain the workings of my brain in this regard is to compare it to the workings of a crow’s brain when it sees something shiny. If I am in a crowd, my eyes jump from person to person, attempting to “perceive.” I hear all the close conversations and internally offer input while processing distant mumbles. Eyes continue to dart around the room: do I know anyone? Do I want to know someone? Do I even want to be here? And always searching for the escape routes before this all becomes too much to handle. I can continue to dodge being swallowed by the stimulants, but if people from different groups suddenly attempt to talk to me, I’m lost. If I have to pick between these two people, my mind suddenly thinks of every possible outcome to the situation… Am I going to upset one of them by choosing to talk to the other, am I going to say something stupid, or embarrass myself somehow, which one of them is actually more enjoyable for me to talk to, etc. These thoughts and many more (that aren’t always clear to me), zip through my mind in a split second. I physically feel my eyes doing flips searching for an answer, as my fight or flight instinct kicks in. How does one tell people to politely shut the hell up so I can process everything going on around me?

I’ve grown a bit since I was crying in my basement, but overstimulation is still an issue. Now, I manifest those tears into awkward humor. This can include jokes that are not found funny, jokes that are indecent for the time or saying something that comes across the wrong way. Humor is my defense mechanism, and I can be quite poor at it when I’m unsure of what the “right” action is.

My ADHD was who I was before college with OCD as an occasional friend, but any obsessive tics were quirks such as needing a volume on the tv or radio to be a certain number, so I paid it no mind. During the beginning of my freshman year of college, an incident triggered for me the anxiety and depression issues that are in my genes. I was clueless on how to deal with these new distractions and subsequently was thrown out of school during my sophomore year. I struggled with these new issues that were nothing like my ADHD. I was accepted back to college for another year, but after that year, I was done there. In my opinion, Anxiety and Depression have a unique ability to evolve and grow with me. The trigger is of no concern to me now, but concerns with trust, or the ability for history to repeat itself, follows me still.

To simply define Anxiety and Depression, I’d say Anxiety is the concern with “what-ifs” and “possibilities,” while Depression is a lethargic boredom that leaves one exhausted, and never fully rested even after sleeping. Anxiety is a fear of the future, while Depression is to not have the energy to fight it. Having the four conditions of ADHD, Anxiety, OCD, and Depression, is a cycle of mental battles where they all play into each other. ADHD has the brain go wild with creating the thoughts, Anxiety and Depression each takes a turn being the theme of the thoughts, while the other is the outcome, and OCD is the one that makes the mind obsess over the negative thoughts. In this situation, the mind becomes a traitor to the host, as it systematically hurts itself for no understood reason.

I’m exhausted by the battle of the last several years. I’ve made more attempts at meds, trying stimulants and non-stimulants again, with limited success. Overall, it needs to be known by all going through similar issues, that medication will not solve the problem. One must adjust their mindset, and make themselves happy and successful. The meds may help with the drowning, but one must “fix” themselves. By living in fear, and under the control of my issues, I have missed out on opportunities in love, friendship, careers, and simple happiness. I entered college majoring in Molecular and Marine Biology while minoring in Chemistry and Meteorology. I wanted to lock myself in a lab while I worked on finding cures to diseases, and I was devastated when I became a failure in working towards this goal. At the time, my mind was obsessed with this disappointment, but now, I’m still disappointed in myself, but the mistakes of my past have led me to focus on my lifetime love of books and writing. We all make mistakes at points in our lives, but mistakes should not define oneself. Fear should not be allowed to control. Happiness and success can be achieved when issues are pushed through.

I have pushed friends away and made family life challenging when I was at my worst. I’m naturally defensive and angry as I try to forget how overwhelmed I feel from the position I find myself, with only myself to blame. I’m not happy with where I am in life, but I’m finding myself becoming more positive as I keep pushing forward. There are times I need to escape and be alone in order to “recharge.” This may also label me as an introvert, which is fine, but it also has to do with escaping stimulation, or the irrational fears that anxiety creates. I am defined by my actions, and some of those need to change.

I’m clearly still a work in progress. May of 2015 I had a moment where I realized I needed to wake up and make a change. Of course, this wasn’t my first epiphany, nor my last, but it was huge for me. I began seeing a therapist again so that I could see a psychiatrist and make a new attempt at medications. My routine was concentrated on curbing my Anxiety and ADHD a bit so that I could be in better control to focus on myself. October 2015 I made some more realizations regarding how I’ve been thinking and living and was also getting myself back into school at Southern New Hampshire University. I was on my way up until I was laid off work, lost my routine with my meds and quit cold turkey. I spent February to April, of 2016, going through withdrawal, with symptoms ranging from severe dizziness to increased anxiety and fears. I didn’t tell anyone about going through this until a couple months after the symptoms subsided. Apparently, I could have had seizures from doing this.

For my own reasons, I’m terrified of being vulnerable and would have a hard time telling this story to someone in my life, so this is my attempt. My story is also for those that struggle similarly. No matter how daunting and terrifying life may seem, no one is ever truly alone when you can overcome your fears and insecurities in order to reach out for help. Not everyone is betraying. Fear can’t be allowed to be the leader in one’s life, regardless of the fear. Fear of losing a friend because it won’t work out, fear of not being understood or judged, or fear of the future and Anxiety can not be allowed to win. Life is your own to make of it and to live it, so be the mindset and make the changes necessary to make it yours. I’m slowly making progress in making my changes, I’m getting there, and so can anyone else. My story is one point of view, but I want you to know that there are others that struggle, and I hope you can take something from this and help yourself.

People will come along and show themselves to be worth taking a risk for, and it can induce anxiety wondering if it’s time to trust someone again with your burdens. When these people come around, it is much easier to listen to the irrational fears that Anxiety creates, but doing so will leave you questioning “what if.” I know I need to start taking risks and pushing myself out of my painful “comfort” zone, in order to take control of my life. Too many times have I taken the easy path, and that is what has me stuck here. I’m sure there are many others that understand this feeling of being stuck, and hopefully, they can find some motivation here to push themselves through this mess. Regret and disappointment are far worse feelings than anxiety. I don’t want to see people in my situation, and I believe that writing some of my tales can aid others. We may be beaten down, but surely we are not broken.

I still have a respect for my ADHD, as I can still feel the positives that I attribute to it. I’m still creative, and can still be deeply happy. In the end, it’s about finding the median as I walk the line between pushing forward, and falling back into a hole. I don’t need to drown in “what-ifs” or irrational fears of possible outcomes. Need to further trust my gut and push forward, as I am by publishing this story. My mind wonders if it is what I should do, but my gut says yes. Seeing this in writing can help me sift through my emotions and focus on bettering myself, and I hope parts of my story will strike a chord with someone else. I may be judged because of the misunderstood taboo of mental health issues, but honestly, anyone judging me, or another struggling person, isn’t worth any time to think on. The people I keep in my life are there for a reason—I respect them and trust them. I care about these people because they have shown me respect, and show that they enjoy having me in their life. My issues and past may make it difficult to trust people, but I am good at reading one’s character and knowing who is worth my time. So for them, and myself, I continue to work on myself so that I can be better. Thank you.