Last month was mental health awareness month and I’m sorry it’s taken me this long to talk about it.
By it, I mean my own mental health.
You see, this time last year, I started on the path of acknowledging and accepting my mental health troubles and getting the help I knew I needed but never believed could come.
A week before my 25th birthday, I was officially diagnosed with ADHD and anxiety.
Almost one year later and I’ve still only scratched the surface of what it means but I have learned more about myself than any “coming of age” storyline I could have lived through.
I’ve struggled with time management my entire life. I joke that I was two weeks early for my birth and so I’ve made up for it by being late to everything else since then but the fact of the matter is my brain works differently than others. I don’t have a typical understanding of time.
I was listening to a podcaster last night who put it in a way that made me chuckle: “everyone has 24 hours in a day but my hours have 72 minutes.”
It made me laugh because, unintentionally, that’s how I’ve always viewed the clock.
I’ve never been one to finish a project, either. Hence why this is the newest of I’m not even sure how many blogs I’ve started.
Whether it was putting my plate in the sink or putting the laundry away after I folded it, I was always getting fussed at growing up for being one or two steps short of completion. Even as an adult, my boss (unfortunately) has to consistently remind me to finish one article before starting five others.
Believe it or not, I have extremely low self-esteem. I pick on myself constantly and nick-pick every little thing I do. That’s why I don’t celebrate my birthday. That’s why it’s hidden on all my social media accounts and why I try to avoid it the best I can. I have anxiety attacks on it every year thinking about all the goals I didn’t meet since the last one. While I still had an attack last year, it was different. It was almost refreshing knowing that those things I try so hard to overcome each year weren’t being fixed because, for the most part, they can’t be. Those negative things society has taught me to hate about myself stem from my ADHD.
And y’all, it’s hard. And, a year later, I’m still mad.
I’m mad that 99 percent of the people in my world think that I “need to just do it” and then my problems will be fixed.
I’m mad that I was in school for 17.5 years and not a single teacher or family member or friend every noticed anything was wrong with me. That they never thought my complaints about things weren’t just whining but actually something mentally wrong. I’m mad that people still think that’s all this is.
I’m mad that people don’t talk about this stuff.
I’m mad that I felt like I had to keep this a secret when, in a reality, this is a massive part of who I am.
Yes, I may seem (roughly) put together most times and I’m aware everyone struggles but sometimes I have bad moments. Mentally bad moments. I creep back to those days in high school where I hated myself and have to fight hard not to go too low.
The difference between 16 year old Stephanie and 26 year old Stephanie is 1) I know Jesus and 2) I have this diagnosis.
I can now research how ADHDers overcome obstacles and it makes sense.
I can talk to those with ADHD or anxiety or depression and know I’m not the only one in the world who has these struggles.
So let’s talk about it.
Ask me questions. You’re not being invasive if you’re asking to truly expand your knowledge. If talking about it helps others become aware and helps even one person better understand what someone with a mental disability goes through, then this knot I have in my stomach about posting this is worth it.
For those of you who also go through this day after day, know that I understand and I’m so proud of you. It isn’t easy asking your doctor about medications. It isn’t easy admitting you need medications to help function in a “normal” world. It can take a day’s worth of energy to get out of bed in the morning which may cause others to accuse you of being lazy for being tired later on. But I get it. I’m with you. We’re not alone. And you are so, so brave.
That being said, welcome to The Jaytee Society. This blog won’t all be mental health but, in honor of the late Kate Spade, I feel like I’d be doing her a disservice if I didn’t speak up. I’ll keep you updated when more develops.