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  • I don't even really like the term hyperactive. I was diagnosed at 6. I was told I was hyperactive, that I couldn't pay attention. But nothing about why I stimmed, nothing about why my emotional state was unstable and I had trouble properly managing my emotions. Nothing about executive dysfunction, time blindness, hyperfixation, over and under stimulation, or the ways ADHD impacted my ability to socialize. Everyone wants to chalk ADHD up to one thing. But it isn't. My peers at school wouldnt bully me because of being hyperactive but rather because of my failure to understand the nuances of social rituals no one explained to me. They would bully me because I stimmed especially when I did so verbally. I didn't even know those things were related to my ADHD. I genuinely just believed there was something fundamentally wrong about me that I could never fix. Once I stopped taking Ritalin in grade six because my mom decided I didn't need it anymore, I started to just receive constant ableist abuse from everyone in my life. I was always made to feel that it was my fault I was this way, my personal fault that I couldn't do group projects or get homework or projects done. I'd score poorly on everything I did in school despite being smart and capable of learning well on my own. This was always made out to be a personal failing of my own, and not a direct consequence of my untreated ADHD combined with a system wholly unsympathetic to my experience.

    ADHD is so misunderstood by neurotypical people. It's wild talking to women who haven't been diagnosed and describe in vivid detail all the forms of ableist abuse they've suffered their entire lives. Incredible being able to recognize the commonalities in our stories. Society is incredibly punishing for neurodivergent people. It is only around other neurodivergent people that I really feel able to be myself, to this day. I have helped several women get diagnosed purely by recommendation after becoming close friends with them. It's wild how it feels like neurodivergent people subconsciously recognize each other.

    • Once I stopped taking Ritalin in grade six because my mom decided I didn't need it anymore, I started to just receive constant ableist abuse from everyone in my life. I was always made to feel that it was my fault I was this way, my personal fault that I couldn't do group projects or get homework or projects done. I'd score poorly on everything I did in school despite being smart and capable of learning well on my own. This was always made out to be a personal failing of my own, and not a direct consequence of my untreated ADHD combined with a system wholly unsympathetic to my experience.

      Perfectly summed up my experience. Parents took me off meds (straterra in my case) due to concerns about not eating enough, everything downhill from there for the exact same reasons.

      Trying to get re-diagnosed as an adult (parents lost/shredded childhood records...) and got hit with a variation of "since you're not trying, you must be happy as you are" from a psychologist that listed ADHD as a specialty...

      • Trying to get re-diagnosed as an adult (parents lost/shredded childhood records…) and got hit with a variation of “since you’re not trying, you must be happy as you are” from a psychologist that listed ADHD as a specialty…

        There definitely seem to be this mentality of "if you made it this far, then it's not serious" attitude to adult diagnoses.

  • I mean, everyone around me agreed that I definitely wasn't hyperactive but highly inattentive so it was a matter of putting 2 and 2 together

  • I got lucky as a kid. I’ve struggled with executive dysfunction my entire life and was diagnosed in the 90s, but I had teachers that helped me catch up on my work and devise ways to track progress. They had me keep a journal and I would write down a checklist of school work I had to finish. I remember one day when I was finally caught up on all my work, one of my teachers had me announce it to my peers in class, and they cheered me on. It was nice to experience the feeling of getting a win and not constantly being behind. I had a couple teachers that were patient and kind, and would help me work through stuff I was slow at or just generally struggled with.

    When I got to high school, it was a different story. If I struggled and fell behind, no one was there to help, or they simply didn’t have the time due to how full my classes were. I remember in anatomy and physiology, we all got partnered up so we could dissect things with another set of hands. My partner transferred out of class almost immediately and that’s when I knew I was cooked. When I couldn’t keep up, we met with my teacher and he refused to acknowledge that I was struggling, nor offer any help. I remember saying to him “dude… I have an F in your class…” and got nothing back. I ended up transferring out of the school entirely.

    My upbringing was a mixed bag. I don’t remember being called lazy outright, but it was definitely conveyed. When I finally got a diagnosis and tried meds, they put me to sleep in class because they weren’t intended for non-hyperactive adhd like what I had. I quit taking them immediately because of how much worse they made things. It was all still such uncharted territory back then that a diagnosis was essentially a dice roll.

    I’ve definitely felt the sting multiple times of feeling looked down on, like I was less intelligent. That’s the worst of it all. I didn’t care as much about the lazy labels as I did the intelligence labels. I had a college reading level in 6th grade, I was great in biology and science, but I was “slow” in everything else.

56 comments