Whatever Comes

This time last year, I started writing about my experience getting an ADHD diagnosis, treatment, and all the emotions and realities that came with it. A full year later—and nearly two since my ADHD diagnosis adventure began—it’s hard to believe how much has happened.

It took far more time, effort, and frustration to get my prescription sorted out than I ever imagined. I’m not going to pretend I’m not still bothered by how convoluted the whole process felt. But eventually, with time, the help of my pharmacy, and finally speaking to my doctor, I decided to stick with my 30 mg dosage and have, for the most part, been able to get my prescription filled when needed.Between that and the many audiobooks, articles, therapy appointments, and support from the people who love me, I think I’ve settled into something that’s working.

This process has been hard, and it continues to be, but I’m navigating it the best I can, with as much support as I can gather. That’s really all I can ask of myself.

The most surprising part of coming to understand and accept my ADHD has been the immense grief and anger that surfaced once I finally had a diagnosis.I grieve for little Andrea, who worked so hard to be good, to excel, to be liked, to be “normal,” and whose struggles went unnoticed by the adults around her.I grieve for twenty-something Andrea, who fought to meet the demands of adult life, who felt left behind by her peers, who couldn’t understand why being a straight-A student hadn’t translated into feeling successful as an adult.

Despite the grief, I feel validated in my struggle. I’ve already built a lot of strategies that help me create more ease in my life, and my toolkit keeps growing with me. Since starting medication, I’m able to focus on my work and organize my thoughts and time a bit more effectively, and I’ve found ways to regulate my emotions and my nervous system when difficult circumstances come up.

Unfortunately, no strategy is foolproof, and shit still happens. I still glitch, forget, lose things. I still wrestle with anxiety and grief. But with a better understanding of myself and my ADHD, I can offer myself more compassion when I do, and ultimately, get myself “unstuck” sooner.

For so long, so many things in life felt out of reach because I didn’t feel capable or worthy of them. It’s hard to believe you deserve anything nice when you constantly lose or break things. It’s hard to trust yourself with big decisions when making any decision at all feels impossible.

But over the last year, I opened myself up to receiving things I never believed were meant for me, yet when I speak them out loud, they sound so simple.

I bought my first new car

My partner and I bought our first home.

I planned and hosted a nearly sold-out workshop.

I applied for—and was offered—new opportunities to speak and share my work.

My business is growing in new and exciting ways, and I continue to grow along with it.

I’m in a place where life feels safe and comfortable and still full of possibility. And for the first time I can remember, I believe those possibilities are meant for me.

I don’t know for sure what’s next, and I’m sure it won’t be easy. In fact, it will probably have moments that are absolutely terrible. But I’m prepared to take the bad with the good, and I’m confident that I can handle whatever comes.