Entry 9

It’s very possible that this entry will be a disappointment to everyone who reads it. Because this entry is for me, and no one else.

I have a really poor memory. I think a lot of people do, but mine is really bad. That means that, for as far back as I can remember, I’ve been struggling with mental health.

My mental health is like having to pee. Sometimes it’s an emergency, but it stays in that state of emergency until the point where it peaks, and then *poof* it’s gone. All of a sudden, I’m healthy, I don’t have to pee, I can handle whatever comes my way.

And the thing that’s fucked up about it is, I’ve been dealing with the same internal shit for over ten years, so I have these coping mechanisms that may or may not be healthy.

So now let’s venture from the abstract to the reality of the situation. I have been dealing with serious mental health issues for at least ten years. Depression, anxiety, attention problems, whatever you want to call it, everyday tasks are more difficult for me than for “normal” people.

This condition sucks for so many reasons.
For example: Anyone who knows me knows that I am willing to put all my business out there. So when I meet someone new, I’m not at all hesitant to say things like, “Oh yeah, I’d love to do (etc) but I have these anxiety issues, and they make that kind of goal more difficult to achieve.” But a good number of people cannot handle hearing someone with mental issues acknowledge those issues with such a cavalier nature.

It makes most people uncomfortable. I might just as well have confessed to having a terminal illness. For the most part, once I confess to struggling with mental health issues, people withdraw — they don’t talk about reality, and they certainly don’t laugh about reality.

But mental health issues? That IS my reality. I like to talk about it. I really like to laugh about it.

Today I had my fifth mental health appointment since I’ve been in the Netherlands. Those 5 appointments were… for lack of a better word, they were exhausting. I redirected all my energy to talking about me. My status now, my status in the past, what I’ve accomplished, what I haven’t accomplished, what I wanted to accomplish. Not fun chats, trust me.

But today… Today, I was diagnosed with “adult ADHD.”

When my mom found out, she asked me how I felt. Moms always want to know how you feel.
So how did I feel?

The thing I felt most was fucking relief.

I’m looking forward to having a “normal” level of energy.