Well, even though I was diagnosed a week ago, I feel that I only truly joined the ranks of the ADHD zombies last night.
Last night, you see, marks the first time I was told, (and I quote), "pfft you dont need meds for that" by somebody who barely knows me or my situation. From what I've heard from other people with this diagnosis, that's how you know you have arrived.
This person then went on to describe how it "takes a lot of work" to transcend pain and illness, but they can do it just fine, even though their case is beyond severe. They went on to inform me that psychiatry is a lie, 100% of people alive today have ADHD, and that it's better to repress unpleasantness than deal with it, because as long as you're okay with being different, no amount of mental illness can overcome willpower. And even if it does, so what? I'm cuh-RAY-zee, deal with it you jerks! ^___^
Yeah, I think I'll stick with the licensed therapist and whatever pills my doctor thinks may be effective as a last resort. Which is what it is--you think I didn't spent my entire life trying to FORCE me to be okay so I wouldn't have to take drugs? I struggled as hard as I could for my entire life just to make it up to mediocre on my own. But just because I was expending energy didn't mean that iron wall was any closer to breaking. I avoided despair by lying to myself for a long time about how I was getting closer. Every little improvement was a breakthrough. Any minute now, I told myself, any second I'll start seeing cracks. Just a little harder.
It's tough to give up on an investment like that, and admit you've failed. Not only that you've failed, but that you actually wasted all that time on something unwinnable. Your 400-hour game of Pitfall for the Atari is never going to end with credits. QQ noob; the battle is over and you fucking lost.
It's fucking terrible to slump down and say "I quit" because you just can't make yourself push anymore. And if, in your time of acceptance, some Mary Sue success story happens to come skipping along to give you shit for not being strong enough, you're not going to be happy with that.
I don't think the person intended to hit this button in me, but that's what you risk when you pass judgment on the circumstances of somebody you don't know and start laughing off their problems because how your issues are ten billion times worse, but all it takes for you is some willpower and hard work. (Poof, problem gone, now why didn't I think of that?)
Over the course of the argument that ensued, it came out a bit at a time just how badly messed up this person's outlook was. Without getting into details, let me just say that they reminded me of me, only a version of me that was in love with myself and didn't much care about anyone else. A version of me that actively wanted to get worse. I tried to urge them to get help, but it was like arguing with a magic 8 ball. There was an excuse or sob story for every option, and where those didn't cut it, the person fell back on the old "yay crazy wacky monkey pie doom" mental illness trendiness as a defense mechanism.
People in denial have this horrible tendency, when their treasured assault against reality falls short and they have nothing left, to pretend to "own" their damage before you can call them on it. Smokers and drug addicts do this a lot, most noticeably when they brag about how they'll die young. They can't handle the reality, so they turn it into a joke that they can confront without actually confronting it.
My mom used to do it. She'd threaten suicide when she was criticized or throw a huge self-hate party and talk about how worthless she was. You couldn't argue with her because she'd just hand you her dignity right off the bat, and I never got the feeling that anything she handled that way ever truly got resolved. It was emotional camoflage by way of exaggeration, surrender and caricature. Is there a word for this kind of cop-out?
Anyway, I don't mind when people tell me about their problems. I honestly enjoy helping people troubleshoot their problems and be happier. But if you plan to throw my advice away without considering it or would just prefer me to function as an audience for your very own Greek tragedy (with you as the star, of course), please let me know in advance so I won't embarrass both of us by trying to actually help.
In the end I felt kind of sad for blowing up over the initial "pfft, you dont need meds for that" comment. If I'd known from the start why they were so fixated on the power of positive thinking, I wouldn't have hassled the person. They weren't ready for honest self-examination and now I feel like a bully for trying to make them see something they're trying hard NOT to see. You know what I mean?
But wouldn't it be so rad and awesome if it were so easy to overcome shit as that? If you could just bury your anger and not have it come back to bite you on your ass... if you could blame everything on your shitty childhood and not have to pay for it... if you could wish yourself well just by wanting it bad enough. Goddamn, I want THAT illness.
At the end of the day I really do love this world. We humans are all so quirky and lovable and flawed. We're nowhere near as unique as we think we are, but even our clichés deserve affection for being so damn human. I want to give us all a huge hug sometimes for just being what we are.
Coming from the codependent background of my youth, though, I also find it hard at other times to stop myself from grabbing fucked up people to just
shake the stupid out of them. I sometimes lack empathy and patience for human weakness in myself or others. And then I turn around and lambast others for being heartless. It's crazy, but at least I'm aware of the tendency and can fight it.
Every year I spend on this planet takes me closer to finally being able to love what I am--human and weak and flawed--because it is human and weak and flawed. In the long run, I reckon the only solution will be to just accept the negative shit and move on. So maybe the person was right about transcending pain, albeit in an entirely different context from the one they intended.
Therapy appointment tomorrow. I wonder what exciting new headmeat disorders we'll discover this time!
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