Post by sarahitalia on May 28, 2016 8:45:39 GMT
I'm British, but I left England in 1989 when I was 21. I've been living in Italy for just over 20 years. I suppose I should really be connecting with Italian forums... but this is hard enough in my own language.
I have spent my whole life (the earliest I remember feeling this was when I was 4 and in trouble all the time both at home and school) feeling like a horse that has been handicapped with lead weights in the race called life.
Be organised, on time, focused, deliver what you promise, sleep properly, concentrate, control your blurtings/emotional responses, don't spend 18 hours straight obsessively engrossed in a thing to the detriment of all your other obligations and responsibilities. I have watched most people, most of the time gather their strength and fly over those sorts of hurdles. Some maybe clipped the bar. Some occasionally brought down a rail. They had the odd full on crash. But generally they managed.
I on the other hand, despite some fairly heroic measures, including a near constant internal stream of criticism to "do better, be normal, stop with the weak willed performance, get organised and concentrate! Read one book at a time, stop speaking before you've had time to think." ... just kept crashing head first into each and every barrier of "things you must do and achieve".
I have left in my wake a pile of school reports that are almost boring, because of the constant refrain of "could do better", "must learn to concentrate", "has to stop day dreaming", "must improve handwriting and spelling" (they kept that up even after my diagnosis of dyslexia, which was not easy to get in 1979).
If they wrote reports for all the jobs you got fired from I'd have a stack that said much the same as above.
I was a mess between 16-26. Didn't cope at all. My father walked out on us on the second day of my O levels. So I ended up with just four by the time I stumbled through all the papers. My mother broke. I left home that summer. Left school. Left all hope and light behind. A ten year depression and raft of reckless and self destructive behaviours followed < draws veil cos... I go hot and cold when I look back on that >
I came out of the depression around 27ish. Still got "bad reports" at work, despite doing a job I love and am good at. However I've always been stuck in a rut of underperforming in terms of the routine, organisational, mundane but absolutely necessary aspects of the work. I learned to leave jobs before I got fired.
Ten years ago I went freelance and things improved. I have built things so my work takes into account my low tolerance for certain aspects of work. It means I am not fulfilling my potential by any stretch of the imagination. But at least I don't crash and burn regularly anymore.
I still have to live (both at home and at work) with the stress of being awful in terms of attention to detail, attention in general, concentration, focus, procrastination and organisation. However, my well developed ability to hyper focus gets me out of most tight corners, most of the time (although my son and husband regard that specific behaviour as a curse rather than a blessing). So by and large I have given other people the impression that I am a real professional, a decent mother/wife, and a fairly competent human. Mostly. They just don't realise just how frantically my legs are going under the water to keep the swan like bit afloat and moving forward.
They (including my husband & sister) don't know that as my mind wanders it turns on me and creates vivid videos of car crashes, terrorist attacks, earthquake, building collapse.... all high octane stuff that would bring normality to a halt and relieve me of the sometimes unbearable pressures of ... stuff you just have to do as part of normal life.
Like laundry. I have imagined a plane crashing in the field behind us ... just cos then nobody would expect me to attack the laundry mountain. But mostly I cope (ish) and nobody really notices the distinctly odd way I am coping.
So far, so good. But...
In February somebody found a link to a page where Internet randoms were discussing my father's death. They said he died in November.
Grief is hard enough when reasonably uncomplicated. My family doesn't do uncomplicated.
I started having moments of intense anxiety, intrusive thoughts and ... panic. Cos in my mind I can see a huge black Pain tsunami about to come crashing down on me and I don't want to hand over a second decade of my life to the pain of my father leaving me. Again.
The strain and effort of holding back the black pain Tsunami meant that my usual sense of feeling overwhelmed with bog standard normal life went bonkers. I can't carry both weights. My knees, back and shoulders are buckling and my sister noticed. She started pushing hard for me to go see somebody and ... you don't argue with my sister ?
In order to have some clue about what to say to a medical professional I thought I would have a poke about in what it might be at the heart of the problem. I did tests for depression, various form of anxiety, a raft of personality disorders, PTSD, bipolar, somatic disorders... nada. Bits and bobs here and there, some ticks of the "yeah, sort of, kind of, but not really" type. But basically I was coming to the conclusion that it wasn't an illness. I am just rubbish and can't cope with normal things, in a normal life, like a normal person.
And then I did a test for ADHD, just to rule it out along with the others. Oh dear god. It was like somebody had sat down and written a blow by blow description of all my faults, flaws and deficiencies.
It was intense. The relief was enormous. I may not be a sub standard human. I might just have a "thing". My issues may be a question of a disorder, not a lack of moral fibre and backbone.
That was this Monday night. On Tuesday I went to my doctor. On Wednesday I was at the local clinic clutching my referral and after an unexpected (and unpleasant) interview with a psych nurse I was given an appointment for the 7th of June.
I have never non-procrastinated so much in my life. I just ploughed on and did it all like a woman possessed. Terrified that if I didn't run like the clappers towards it, I'd put it off like I put everything off, and lose any chance of what time I have left * not * being just like the time I've already lost.
I am also scared. If they say I don't have ADHD, just do stuff that looks a bit like it some of the time, then I am back to being a moral fibre free, spineless, weak willed, sub standard human again. Having had a taste of how it feels not to be burdened and ashamed due to this being my own fault, I'm not sure how well I'll cope if it turns out it is all my fault really after all.
This week has been one of the happiest of life, relieved of the guilt and the shame of not being good enough. I don't want it to go "poof" and come back to earth with a bump upon discovering I don't have ADHD, I'm just ... rubbish at life. I need to resolve the rubbish at life bit to hold back the "the Internet told me my dad died" pain Tsunami issue. Cos I if don't do that, this time it's not just me that the black Pain Tsunami will overwhelm and drown. I could end up dragging my husband and son under with me. A concept I find unbearable.
Oh and ... hello !
< waves from the wrong side of the Alps >
I have spent my whole life (the earliest I remember feeling this was when I was 4 and in trouble all the time both at home and school) feeling like a horse that has been handicapped with lead weights in the race called life.
Be organised, on time, focused, deliver what you promise, sleep properly, concentrate, control your blurtings/emotional responses, don't spend 18 hours straight obsessively engrossed in a thing to the detriment of all your other obligations and responsibilities. I have watched most people, most of the time gather their strength and fly over those sorts of hurdles. Some maybe clipped the bar. Some occasionally brought down a rail. They had the odd full on crash. But generally they managed.
I on the other hand, despite some fairly heroic measures, including a near constant internal stream of criticism to "do better, be normal, stop with the weak willed performance, get organised and concentrate! Read one book at a time, stop speaking before you've had time to think." ... just kept crashing head first into each and every barrier of "things you must do and achieve".
I have left in my wake a pile of school reports that are almost boring, because of the constant refrain of "could do better", "must learn to concentrate", "has to stop day dreaming", "must improve handwriting and spelling" (they kept that up even after my diagnosis of dyslexia, which was not easy to get in 1979).
If they wrote reports for all the jobs you got fired from I'd have a stack that said much the same as above.
I was a mess between 16-26. Didn't cope at all. My father walked out on us on the second day of my O levels. So I ended up with just four by the time I stumbled through all the papers. My mother broke. I left home that summer. Left school. Left all hope and light behind. A ten year depression and raft of reckless and self destructive behaviours followed < draws veil cos... I go hot and cold when I look back on that >
I came out of the depression around 27ish. Still got "bad reports" at work, despite doing a job I love and am good at. However I've always been stuck in a rut of underperforming in terms of the routine, organisational, mundane but absolutely necessary aspects of the work. I learned to leave jobs before I got fired.
Ten years ago I went freelance and things improved. I have built things so my work takes into account my low tolerance for certain aspects of work. It means I am not fulfilling my potential by any stretch of the imagination. But at least I don't crash and burn regularly anymore.
I still have to live (both at home and at work) with the stress of being awful in terms of attention to detail, attention in general, concentration, focus, procrastination and organisation. However, my well developed ability to hyper focus gets me out of most tight corners, most of the time (although my son and husband regard that specific behaviour as a curse rather than a blessing). So by and large I have given other people the impression that I am a real professional, a decent mother/wife, and a fairly competent human. Mostly. They just don't realise just how frantically my legs are going under the water to keep the swan like bit afloat and moving forward.
They (including my husband & sister) don't know that as my mind wanders it turns on me and creates vivid videos of car crashes, terrorist attacks, earthquake, building collapse.... all high octane stuff that would bring normality to a halt and relieve me of the sometimes unbearable pressures of ... stuff you just have to do as part of normal life.
Like laundry. I have imagined a plane crashing in the field behind us ... just cos then nobody would expect me to attack the laundry mountain. But mostly I cope (ish) and nobody really notices the distinctly odd way I am coping.
So far, so good. But...
In February somebody found a link to a page where Internet randoms were discussing my father's death. They said he died in November.
Grief is hard enough when reasonably uncomplicated. My family doesn't do uncomplicated.
I started having moments of intense anxiety, intrusive thoughts and ... panic. Cos in my mind I can see a huge black Pain tsunami about to come crashing down on me and I don't want to hand over a second decade of my life to the pain of my father leaving me. Again.
The strain and effort of holding back the black pain Tsunami meant that my usual sense of feeling overwhelmed with bog standard normal life went bonkers. I can't carry both weights. My knees, back and shoulders are buckling and my sister noticed. She started pushing hard for me to go see somebody and ... you don't argue with my sister ?
In order to have some clue about what to say to a medical professional I thought I would have a poke about in what it might be at the heart of the problem. I did tests for depression, various form of anxiety, a raft of personality disorders, PTSD, bipolar, somatic disorders... nada. Bits and bobs here and there, some ticks of the "yeah, sort of, kind of, but not really" type. But basically I was coming to the conclusion that it wasn't an illness. I am just rubbish and can't cope with normal things, in a normal life, like a normal person.
And then I did a test for ADHD, just to rule it out along with the others. Oh dear god. It was like somebody had sat down and written a blow by blow description of all my faults, flaws and deficiencies.
It was intense. The relief was enormous. I may not be a sub standard human. I might just have a "thing". My issues may be a question of a disorder, not a lack of moral fibre and backbone.
That was this Monday night. On Tuesday I went to my doctor. On Wednesday I was at the local clinic clutching my referral and after an unexpected (and unpleasant) interview with a psych nurse I was given an appointment for the 7th of June.
I have never non-procrastinated so much in my life. I just ploughed on and did it all like a woman possessed. Terrified that if I didn't run like the clappers towards it, I'd put it off like I put everything off, and lose any chance of what time I have left * not * being just like the time I've already lost.
I am also scared. If they say I don't have ADHD, just do stuff that looks a bit like it some of the time, then I am back to being a moral fibre free, spineless, weak willed, sub standard human again. Having had a taste of how it feels not to be burdened and ashamed due to this being my own fault, I'm not sure how well I'll cope if it turns out it is all my fault really after all.
This week has been one of the happiest of life, relieved of the guilt and the shame of not being good enough. I don't want it to go "poof" and come back to earth with a bump upon discovering I don't have ADHD, I'm just ... rubbish at life. I need to resolve the rubbish at life bit to hold back the "the Internet told me my dad died" pain Tsunami issue. Cos I if don't do that, this time it's not just me that the black Pain Tsunami will overwhelm and drown. I could end up dragging my husband and son under with me. A concept I find unbearable.
Oh and ... hello !
< waves from the wrong side of the Alps >