I am forty-three years old. Like most people, I am a survivor of childhood trauma. I have battled with depression and anxiety most of my life. While at this stage in healing, I am diagnosed with Situational Depression and am well-regulated to a point where I no longer need prescriptions or weekly therapy to cope; I honestly don’t feel depressed even during tough times. However, when I went through my list of symptoms over the years with doctors and therapists alike, who lean in on my childhood trauma, I am always left feeling as if the only issue inside of my brain has been and always will be depression.

             Two years ago, my middle son was diagnosed with five different learning challenges ranging from ADHD to Autism. Like most parents, we are our children’s only advocates. This meant diving in deep to understand his diagnosis but also to learn every tool I could possibly need to help him be the best version of himself. My son is high masking; therefore, outside of needing an IEP for school and a few basic “life lessons,” his ability to achieve his goals is a strong possibility. Still, I wanted to do what was best for him, so I kept digging.

             In my research, I learned that most women with ADHD are often treated for depression. As we continue working with medical professionals, we are not encouraged to learn more, and most of us accept a well-educated opinion on what is happening to us without doubts. However, I haven’t had any doctors ask me if I considered any Neurodivergences within my brain, even though two of my three sons are NeuroSpicy.  When I read this, a light bulb went off. I quickly Googled ADHD symptoms in adults, women, and later in life diagnosis of ADD/ADHD. With the help of friends, I found a few Facebook groups to join and asked a lot of questions. All the dots of my entire life connected within hours! I took a quick online evaluation, marked just about every check box, and then called my doctor.

             Through many evals and conversations later, we concluded I do indeed have ADHD. My brain’s inability to focus, concentrate on long-winded conversations, or its inability to simply just shut off can all be linked to the wiring of my brain, not an emotional response to childhood trauma. While depression can and does look very similar to ADHD, with the help of understanding this new diagnosis and a willingness to try medication, within two days, I felt like my twenty-something self again.

             I am on the lowest dose possible of Adderall. On day one, I listened to a teammate ramble on about a problem that was completely unrelated to my work for about ten minutes, and not once did I interrupt them. The second day, a weekend, I went out with my husband and noticed the details of where I lived. I stopped changing the radio station every few minutes and just enjoyed his company. I painted a bathroom without the need to leave the project and start a new one before it was ever done. I was happy. I was back to being flexible with my time and space. I slept through the night. Then, by day three, I felt like a superwoman, ready to tackle whatever was thrown my way.

             While we will all have different reactions to medications, and you must talk to your doctor to know if they are right for you, to feel like the happy and bubbly person I always used to be brings me tears of joy. For a couple of years, I have felt like I was losing myself. I shrugged off my irritability, moodiness, lack of interest, and pessimistic attitude as depression and possibly hormonal/age-related. Turns out I was wrong. The doctors were wrong.

             I am not depressed; my brain’s wiring is just a little different. Now, I can focus on the right tools I need to be the best version of myself. Not the box of tools the doctors insisted I needed.

             Please keep fighting for yourself. You are your only advocate.  

This was written by our contributing writer, Tiffani Bourriague.