Something I once wrote included the phrase “my father had a stroke before my unbelieving eyes, the day after Christmas, right before I turned four.” That event sort of set a precedent for my life. I faced many challenges, continually, at younger ages than most. I successfully managed the challenges that were too overwhelming by using denial as a tool of sorts. I think it helped me survive, but it thwarted me as well.
“Denial is good,” so I thought. When a therapist rather casually told me I was a battered wife, I chuckled, and never gave it a second thought. It protected me from facing something I wasn’t yet equipped to deal with. Now I will fast forward past one decade, and one divorce, because for this post, that’s all irrelevent. In my forties, another therapist, who was treating me for insomnia and anxiety, told me he believed I had ADHD. He encouraged me to go on Dr. Amen’s website and take the ADHD test. I did, but I don’t remember which type I had – I think I might have fit into more than one category. Still, I felt impervious to it, just like when I heard the words “you are a battered wife.” I suppose I wasn’t ready then either. Besides, I did not want to have one more stupid acronym to be defined by: CFS, ME, GAD, PTSD, and now this? NO! Continue reading “Denial and my ADD”