I Went My Entire Life Not Knowing I Was Neurodiverse
The first 29 years of my life were painfully spent agonizing and tormenting myself about why I constantly felt so fucking different than everyone else.
There was a never-ending narrative that I mulled over in my head reprimanding myself for feeling like I was an accident created without any sole purpose in life. Like I could never just get it, that I was so alone and continuously misunderstood by everyone.
I had trouble keeping friends, maintaining jobs for more than 3–4 months, living with roommates, doing well in school, completing tasks, having successful healthy relationships, amongst many other things. Each time I thought I had my shit together, and that THIS was the time that I would finally become responsible, I would inevitably burn out, quit whatever is what I was doing, and start the same excruciating process of beating myself up for not being normal.
Two summers ago, I had found a lovely therapist who specialized in patients with C-PTSD and EMDR treatments. It was during our third session that she asked me if I would be willing to take a test to allow her to see how my brain processes information, so she could continue my treatments in the best way possible for me. I agreed and came back the following week with the completed test in hand. After reviewing my scores, my therapist suggested to me…
