I didn’t wake up one day and suddenly “get” ADHD. It’s been with me my whole life—long before I had a name for it.
Looking back, I can see it in the half-finished projects, the “I’ll do it later” that turned into never, the report cards that said “smart, but doesn’t focus.” I always thought I was just lazy, broken, or somehow less than everyone else. I didn’t know my brain was wired differently—I just thought I was failing at “normal.”
Now I know better: I have ADHD. And instead of fighting that fact, I’m learning how to live with it using something I used to be afraid of—proper medication and therapy.
ADHD Isn’t Just “Squirrel!” Jokes
A lot of people think ADHD is just being distracted, goofy, or forgetful. They picture someone bouncing off the walls, cracking jokes, and losing their keys.
Yeah, I lose my keys. But it’s more than that.
For me, ADHD looks like:
- A brain that’s always on, even when I’m exhausted.
- Starting five things and finishing none of them.
- Sitting down to do something important and suddenly realizing I’ve spent an hour scrolling my phone.
- Missing appointments or deadlines—not because I don’t care, but because time in my head doesn’t match time in the real world.
- Feeling guilty because people think I’m irresponsible, when really I’m overwhelmed.
Add ADHD on top of PTSD, depression, and addiction recovery, and you don’t just get “a little scattered.” You get days where brushing your teeth feels like a project and answering a phone call feels like climbing a mountain.
That’s the honest part. Now here’s the hopeful part.
Why I Chose Medication (And Why I’m Not Ashamed of It)
There was a time when I felt weak for even thinking about taking medication. I thought:
“If I just try harder, pray more, or get more disciplined, I shouldn’t need pills.”
But you can’t out-discipline a brain chemistry problem.
For me, proper ADHD medication isn’t a magic cure—it’s a tool. It doesn’t turn me into a different person. It doesn’t fix every problem in my life. What it does is give me:
- Just enough focus to start and finish things.
- A little more space between impulse and action.
- The ability to follow through on what I already want to do.
I still have to do the work. I still have to show up, set alarms, make lists, and keep myself honest. Medication doesn’t replace effort—it makes effort possible.
Taking my medication is one way I say, “I’m serious about getting better.” There’s no shame in that.
Therapy: Where I Untangle the Knots
I don’t just do medication. I also go to therapy—actually, more than one therapist—and I love it.
Therapy is where I:
- Talk honestly about the chaos in my head.
- Learn how ADHD, trauma, and depression all bump into each other.
- Get coping tools that are actually made for someone like me, not just generic advice like “be more organized.”
Some days in therapy, I vent. Some days, I cry. Some days, I laugh at myself and the wild ways my brain works.
My therapists help me:
- Break big tasks into small steps.
- Set up routines that work with my ADHD, not against it.
- Catch the lies I tell myself—like “you’re lazy,” “you’ll never change,” or “you always screw it up.”
Medication calms the noise. Therapy helps me understand the noise—and learn how to live with it.
I need both.
Little Things That Help Me Live with ADHD
On a practical level, here’s some of what I do to manage my ADHD:
- Alarms and Reminders
My phone is full of alarms—for meds, appointments, even simple things like “start getting ready” or “check your blood sugar.” I don’t see it as childish. I see it as smart. - Writing Things Down
If it stays in my head, it disappears. So I write lists, use notes, and lean on tools that help my brain out. - Routines (Even Simple Ones)
Morning routine, work routine, bedtime routine—nothing fancy, just repeatable. When my brain doesn’t have to think about what’s next, it behaves better. - Being Honest About My Limits
I’m learning to say, “I might forget—can you remind me?” or “I need to do this now or I won’t do it.” That honesty saves relationships and lowers my guilt. - Therapy & Check-Ins
Regular appointments keep me from sliding too far before anyone notices—including me.
None of this makes my ADHD vanish. It just means my ADHD doesn’t get to drive the car every day.
The Guilt, the Shame, and Letting That Go
ADHD comes with a heavy backpack full of shame:
- Shame for forgetting things that matter.
- Shame for zoning out in conversations.
- Shame for the mess you meant to clean up “tomorrow” three weeks ago.
I carry guilt from my past, from addiction, from mental health struggles—so when ADHD shows up, it’s easy to pile that guilt on top.
But here’s what I’m learning:
- I am not my diagnosis.
- I am not my worst day.
- Needing medication doesn’t make me weak.
- Going to therapy doesn’t make me broken—it makes me brave.
ADHD is part of my story, not the title of my story.
If You’re Reading This and Struggling Too…
If you see yourself in any of this—if your brain races, if your life feels like a pile of open tabs, if you’re tired of hearing “just try harder”—I want you to know a few things:
- You’re not lazy.
- You’re not stupid.
- You’re not beyond help.
Getting evaluated, taking medication, and going to therapy are not signs of failure. They’re signs that you value your life enough to fight for it.
I still mess up. I still forget things. I still have rough days where my brain is all over the place. But now I have tools. I have support. I have meds that help and therapists who care.
And I’m learning, day by day, to live with ADHD instead of hating myself for having it.
You’re not alone in this. I’m walking it too.
YOU {R} NOT ALONE YOU HAVE A VOICE! 