Well. It sure has been a WEEK. Or technically, it's been three-and-a-half days that FELT like a full week. It's also been a roller coaster of emotions and a water slide of productivity, and okay, that's enough silly metaphors for today.
Sometimes, I'm like THIS!
But then I realize I need to change that first lyric from "For almost 30 years I knew something was wrong" to "For over 40 years," and suddenly I'm less at the 'I Want' Song portion of my life's imaginary musical and more like TIME TO ANGRY DANCE!
(I only said I was done with the silly metaphors. I still have plenty of oddly-specific yet thoroughly tortured ones left.)
"What if it was ALWAYS this?" I asked Jason last night, almost through tears. "What if everything, all of it, was actually just this?"
I was angry and frustrated because the Vyvanse was working. Because I could clearly, easily and unequivocally tell the Vyvanse was working, because the Vyvanse kicks in your brain door and flips whatever switch it needs to switch within a couple hours. As opposed to an antidepressant that you need take for at least a couple weeks before you can decide if you feel a tiny bit better or no, it's just giving you a lot of heartburn.
Jason just gave me a big hug, and pretty soon I was back to feeling hopeful and cautiously optimistic instead.
Thanks to all your lovely, lovely comments. I know I'm far from the only person to get diagnosed this late in life (or even later!), and many of you perfectly described the mix of OH WOW LIGHTBULB MOMENT and WTF TOOK SO LONG feelings.
On the one hand: YAY MY TRIBE!
On the other hand: HELLO MEDICAL ESTABLISHMENT? MENTAL HEALTH DIVISION? I HAVE SOME SUGGESTIONS.
Before Noah and Ezra started medication, they were both exhibiting symptoms of depression and anxiety. But since the ADD/ADHD diagnosis came first, we knew that those symptoms were common for ADHD kids (like 60%! common. SIXTY PERCENT!), and that those symptoms would very likely fade or even disappear with proper supports and treatment for the primary problem. Likewise, identifying Ike's dyslexia alerted us to the heightened chance that he might struggle with mental health as well, and gave us a roadmap for how best to help him if he did.
I also know how fortunate they all are to have been diagnosed/identified as young as they were. And I know that most likely only happened because they are boys.
Meanwhile, over in Girl Land, I was just anxious and depressed because of...genetics? or chemistry? or poor self esteem? or perfectionism? or a personality disorder? or childhood trauma? or PTSD of some kind? or I dunno, maybe it's just my crazy lady hormones?
No one EVER mentioned ADHD as a possibility, not once.
And then on Monday I spent 15 minutes filling out a rating scale I printed off the Internet and my psychiatrist was like, "Oh, wow. Yeah. Let's give Vyvanse a try."
So. It's a lot to process. And I know it's far too soon to declare WELP I'M CURED TIME TO WRITE THAT INSPIRING MEMOIR I GUESS. I've had plenty of diagnostic/medication/therapeutic breakthroughs before. It's always tempting and likely foolish to be all, "But it feels different this time! It feels like this might actually be it!"
It feels different this time.
It feels like this might actually be it.