Category: Other

I was thinking what my first post should be about, and I think the way I got accepted into the ADHD-phyndor should do it. For all us who were diagnosed in the adulthood, it wasn't a particularly straight path, but there is nothing straight about me really.

During the corona pandemic, I was one of those lucky ones, who caught the long covid. It was fucked up, and I don't remember much about it, this is how my brain handles the trauma, I suppose. Although it passed after six-seven months and I started recovering quickly after the second jab, one of the features remained: I had trouble concentrating and especially reading and light sensitivity was really a struggle in everyday life. No German doctor would take me seriously, and I that was kind of it, I thought, well, it probably won't go away, and I will stay Lagerfeld forever.

You can't imagine how stupid would people react to me wearing sunglasses while there is no sun outside. Like wat, why would you care? Mysterious German soul.

Time passed and my husband and I have finally decided to move to the Netherlands, and among other things that have drastically improved after we settled down was the healthcare. We found a great GP, Dr. Heijnen, who's assistant doctors took time to really listen to my concerns and to try to find a solution.

The doctor, let's call him Peter, listened to all my lengthy story and said: I don't think you have an autoimmune disease, but I see it is bothering you and that's why we will check everything. After Germany, it was an entirely new concept for me: the doctor is actually listening and tries to help my life to improve and not blindly following the flowchart. Mein Gott I hate German doctors. I mean I hate German everything, but I hate German doctors the most: dismissive, arrogant, absent, useless. Every time you visit a German doctor, you feel worse and worse instead of better. In a situation when your diagnosis is not clear and might result from a newly emerged disease that caused a pandemic, that's hardly a consolation.

At the end of that visit, Peter added: I think it might be psychosomatic, but let's rule everything out you think it could be. This was also a new thing: for a hypochondriac that I am, he took time and ruled out the sabotage on my side, that could result from my non-believing that I'm treated against the right thing. I was sent to a neurological center in Amsterdam and again greeted by professionals that actually cared about me. They checked everything twice and assured me nothing was wrong with my brain physically, and it was certainly not an autoimmune disease.

At that point, I got hooked on reels and surprise surprise the algorithm converged on the ADHD-crowd quickly. And now let's be honest, it's such a fad, every exalted valley girl wanna be influenceters is claiming to have ADHD: oh I can't concentrate, I can't remember things, I must have ADHD. No, Jennifer, you are just stupid and do too much cocaine at your designer clothes parties.

Especially I got flashed by adhdvision, as his series of "ADHD life lessons" was just eye-opening. I realized, oh my god, it's me. Every single thing. Sudden motivation drops, side quests, gazillion of hobbies and whatnot.

I envied those who connected to their peers based on their identity, which I struggled to find so obsessively. I was always alone and to a certain grade I still am, but at this point I had a hope to finally belong somewhere.

I got back to Peter with my tremendous hypothesis: I have ADHD. His face was like: OMG she didn't know? That was so clearly to register, I almost blushed. I don't blush, unless I'm drunk. I asked what can be done about it, and he said that I would require a transfer to ADHDCentraal in Amsterdam, where all those cases are diagnosed and treated. And guess what: I had to wait for at least a half a year. I waited for 30 years, I would wait a couple of months more, I figured. Then my insurance had some issues with budgeting and when I was already desperate to get in, they offered me an appointment. This should have been an entire day of vigorous testing, and I was puzzled what will they do there, hopefully not BDSM because I wasn't douched?

After a month of anxious anticipation, the day finally came. I was worried as if that was a state exam for my entire career, where in fact again, all personnel and doctors were extremely friendly and helping. And then it came: an hour of psychological evaluation, then an interview with a therapist and then an absolutely excruciating computer test, that is a torture to any hyperactive person. It's called Continuous Performance Test (CPT).

They fixed a band on my head with a metal ball on it and then on a screen of the computer the figures would change, and if that was the same figure, same shape and color, I had to click the button. There were circles and rectangles, I was alone sitting in a room without windows with a hard light above my head. I only remember repeating: red circle, red rectangle, red rectangle oh click, red circle, blue rectangle, red rectangle, red rectangle click, red rectangle click and this for 20 minutes. Can't this test be made with a smartphone with eye tracking?

It was boring, it was a draining, life-sucking experience designed to identify people like us because neurotypicals would pass that test with ease. It was so traumatizing to sit there with no one around and only this k-hole like experience mind-looping me through endless repetitions of that tedious task. I literally needed to take a couple of minutes off to catch a breath after that. This is how working in the office should feel like, haha (JK I worked in the office, it's worse).

After a break, they pumped me up on 10mg methylphenidate and made me do this thing once again after an hour passed. When the time was approaching its end, I realized I'm high. Like not the pleasant type high, like entrance into MDMA high. I got edgy and easily irritated, and then they made me do this test once again. That was like being skinned alive: additionally to all described above, I was distracted by the effects of the dru... ehm medicine and I knew I performed so much worse than the first time.

After that, I talked to the psychiatrist about my results. It was over the internet, and we spoke German to each other, this is how I explain the absolutely absent sugarcoating on his side: you have ADHD symptoms, sleeping disorder, you also have psychological trauma that can manifest with the same symptoms as ADHD, so you need to treat that first. After that, I got back into psychological consulting, and they showed me the result of the test, which indicated that not only I am hyperactive, but also my parameters are getting much better when I'm on speed.

I was crushed. Do I have it or do I not? Well, the symptoms are there, but it can be something else. The test can be unspecific. I got back home and I took my husband and orangina for a walk, we sat on a tree in Sarphatipark and I busted into tears and cried for three hours straight. I expected so much, and got nothing.

I outweirdoed the weirdos. How come I managed not to fit it in even here?