But I’m Telling You The Truth…

I wrote yesterday about what the effects would be on a person’s psyche after years of constantly getting caught off guard by ADHD-induced information gaps.

Which got me thinking.  What triggers have affected my psyche?

And it occurred to me then that I have been triggered to feel like I am not a reliable reporter. That whatever my take is on a situation, it’s probably wrong. That I am untrustworthy.

It’s not just 25 years of my husband’s need to validate his crisis emotions by arguing with me or flat out ignoring me when I explain the true nature of any given “crisis.”  The more I thought about it, the more I realize that I have grown up surrounded by people with ADHD.  I’m like an ADHD magnet.

My Mom has ADHD.  She’s 84, so it’s not likely that she will ever be diagnosed, but her self-reported symptoms point directly to it.

Many of my friends, including one of my best and oldest friends, have ADHD.  My one friend also has a wicked case of dyslexia and a litany of other learning disabilities that make you wonder how she could possibly own and run a successful business.  But she does, and she’s my hero for that.

But dang, there are times I have to take a step back from translating for her.

So I have gone from home to young adulthood to marriage having my closest relationship be with a person with ADHD.  And they have all, without exception, told me I was wrong when I told them what I could see.

It wasn’t until I realized this today that I realized I’ve been believing them. I’ve taken on that lie and I wear it like it was the truth.

This is kind of strange, because I know that I’m actually an exceptional reporter of facts. I have a degree in journalism, so I have been trained in reporting more than the average person has. Not only that, I notice details and remember them.

Not that I never forget anything or miss a detail.  But I do have the kind of brain that holds on to stuff.  I can generally repeat back conversations verbatim. It really annoys my husband.  Attorneys, on the other hand, love it.

So I should trust these facts, and my own assessment of myself, more than that of my loved ones, but since it’s the assessment that’s being treated as untrustworthy, I haven’t.

So that’s going to change.

From here on out, if anyone disagrees with me, I’ll just consider it to be their problem.

Good Lord, what kind of a monster have I just created….?

(Muffy looks sideways and whispers, “Don’t worry, the monster is their problem too…”)

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