I’m Not Lazy, Crazy, or Stupid
I’ve just got ADHD.
My older sister and I are similar in a lot of ways. We’re both writers. We’re both readers. We both majored in English. We both adore good chocolate. And on and on.
We’re dissimilar in a lot of ways, but it turns out that one thing I thought was a difference actually isn’t.
As an adult, Mel was diagnosed with ADD. Based on my then (very) limited understanding of the condition, the diagnosis made much sense. She could jump topics in a conversation like hummingbird flitting from flower to flower. Only faster. I can keep up, but I assumed that it was because I grew up around her.
When I’ve mentioned to close friends that ADHD runs in the family, they always reply with, “Mel, right?”
Sure, she’s the one buzzing around, always doing and thinking. We have a nephew with significant ADHD, and I suspect the parent of that same nephew has it too.
At least two of my kids have it.
And, it turns out, so do I.
For a very long time, I had no inkling. I used to think that “real” ADHD wasn’t common, and that most drugged kids are zombies with parents who don’t know what they’re doing.
I was so, so wrong.
