The word ADD, for me, was and is like a keyword. The diagnosis to me was a key to a treasure chest. A chest full of valuable information; about me, about my childhood, and ultimately about acceptance and love.
I used to feel embarrassed about my former self. I was bullied in primary school. In the present I sometimes felt it was too easy to make fun of me, because I could be so foolish. I was angry at the children who made fun of me, but I was also very angry with my former self and how I didn’t understand the world.
When someone doesn’t fit in, it’s not an excuse for people to bully or be unkind, but I used to be very hard on myself also, I would think unkindly of myself and I had the feeling I’d done it to myself by being me…
I didn’t know how to make friends, I was only good with 1 friend at a time and with the 1 friend I had I used to depart into a fantasy world with Barbie dolls.
I didn’t know how to convey my feelings. I was good with fantasy and books and not with make-up and playing on the street. I wasn’t good with sharing my one friend with others and I was really socially awkward. I was scared of any social gathering I couldn’t wrap my head around.
Looking back I kind of hated who I was and I didn’t have any love for me.
But since I know I suffered from ADD and was emotionally neglected, it explains a lot about how I was and why.
I feel sorry for the child in me and I also feel love for this little person, who was very brave. This person that would still try to make more friends, even though she didn’t know how to. She’d still try.
I’ve come to embrace who I was in the past because of ADD. I’ve come to love this brave little misfit, who is essentially, me.