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  • 50 Years to Put All the Pieces Together: A Very Long Haul, But So Worth It!

50 Years to Put All the Pieces Together: A Very Long Haul, But So Worth It!

  • Posted by Linda Atherton
  • Categories Stories
  • Date May 25, 2021
  • Comments 4 comments

by Linda Atherton

My mother had a stroke when I was 9. My family never recovered. By junior high, I knew my brain worked differently from those around me. I had no idea why. In high school, I asked for help from the minister who ran the youth group where I played music. Rather than helping me, he molested me, adding to my PTSD (undiagnosed until my early 50s.)

Running from Myself

I married at 22, divorced at 38. Married again at 41, divorced again at 49. I tried to outrun my problems by changing partners, changing majors, changing jobs and moving (19 times in 21 years). Each time I knew now my life would be great! Of course, I soon caught up with myself and had to start again.

By my mid-thirties, I was suicidal and sought help for my depression. A psychiatrist prescribed an antidepressant for 6 months, while my therapist was supposed to teach me how to stop making myself depressed. Of course, that did not work. Once the antidepressant was gone, I slipped back into the black hole. I did not tell my therapist since I assumed it was my failure.

I’ll Be an Artist!

While working with my therapist, I did realize I wanted to go to Art School. So, at 40, I sold my house and most of my belongings, and moved to Maine for Art School. Despite profound depression, I made it through the four years of art school and graduated with honors. But it was a rocky road. I suffered outbursts of uncontrollable rage, severe anxiety attacks and aural hallucinations. I ignored them and kept going.

But I’ve Got to Eat

After graduation, I took a high-stress job unrelated to art. Appearing normal was exhausting. I was anything but. Despite working with my therapist, the night of the first company Christmas party, I came home with the intention of killing myself. I spent Christmas week that year in a mental hospital. I was depressed and having multiple episodes of dissociation. I couldn’t imagine things would ever get better. After that first suicide attempt (there were a couple of others over the next year or two), I also started seeing a psychiatrist who recognized my ADHD immediately. I was 46. That was an eye-opener. ADHD medication worked well, but only for short periods after which I would turn into an angry, holy terror so I stopped.

About 6 months later, job stress finally pushed me to try to suicide again. I took a month’s leave of absence. I realized that if I valued my life, it was time to quit both the job and my drinking, another longstanding problem. I never did resign, because I got fired two days before I was due to return to work.

The Right Job Can Make a Huge Difference

The timing of my firing was a blessing in disguise. I soon found a great job, working as an office manager for a small architectural firm. The environment was perfect for my ADHD. I could take my dog to work, and I had a variety of things to do. When my focus was good, I could work on the bookkeeping. When it wasn’t so good, I could do creative tasks like graphic design or work on our website or physical tasks like cleaning the office, running errands, or even taking the owners’ dog for a walk. It was such a great place for me, I stayed for the next 18 years. I retired in 2018.

Not long after getting that job, I stopped seeing both my psychiatrist and my psychologist. I was sick of each one telling me the other wasn’t doing me any good. The psychologist said pharmaceuticals were bad for me; the psychiatrist said therapy was bad for me. I did well enough without them for a while, but then became depressed again.

So Can the Right Professional

This time, I found a psychiatrist who was also a therapist. He was a godsend! I was 50 when he diagnosed my PTSD. I worked with him to learn to control my runaway dissociation. For years, I had told doctors I was depressed, but I also knew something else was going on. None listened.

I worked with that psychiatrist until he retired. I was lucky enough to find a second psychiatrist/therapist to work with me. Because of my complicating issues, I’ve been adjusting my treatment through the ups and downs of life. I finally found a treatment that works, and I can trust my brain functioning now in a way I had never been able to.

Finally I Can Tackle My ADHD

During the pandemic isolation, when the mess in my apartment reached critical mass and I was completely sick of it, I realized it was time to deal with my ADHD. I had to learn how to live with myself. I started reading ADDitude magazine and joined ADDA. I’ve watched many ADHD webinars. I also signed on for a 4-week organizing group, which worked so well for me that I just started my third round.

It’s Never Too Late

I am still, and will always be, a work in progress. But at 69, for the first time in my life, I am content, happy, and confident in my ability to live my best life and make it my own. I am grateful to still be alive. I’m thankful I have found the right people at the right time to help me find all the pieces and put them together.

I am also genuinely kind to myself these days, which is new. I was always extremely self-critical and demanding. It was the only way I could keep myself going. These days, I’ve stopped expecting perfection. I work hard to stop my habitual negative self-talk. It’s amazing how much easier it is to move ahead after letting something slip, when I don’t berate myself for it. I laugh now, tell myself it’s OK, and remind myself that I can do this. And the truth is, I REALLY CAN DO THIS!

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Linda Atherton

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I'm Not Guilty, this is My Unique ADHD!
May 25, 2021

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    4 Comments

  1. Katharine Oehmann
    June 9, 2021
    Reply

    Linda – While I didn’t have the trauma of sex abuse in the way that you did, I found that many of your experiences were similar to mine, from having a mother who suffered a stroke to making many moves over a short period of time. I really appreciate your sharing your story and I’m glad that you can laugh now. Katharine

  2. Daniel Prososki
    August 2, 2021
    Reply

    Wow, can I relate to this

  3. Mary E Scheible
    August 11, 2021
    Reply

    Thank you for telling your story. I am now 59 and often think it’s hopeless. You’ve let me know there is still hope and that is very, very powerful!

  4. Cecylia Escarcega
    August 26, 2021
    Reply

    Hi Linda, Although I have not been formally diagnosed, I can relate to your experiences, especially expressing rage and working in high stress jobs that end up making me depressed and anxious. It seems as if I am waiting for the other shoe to drop or get a notice of termination in my current job. I think I set myself up for failure at work. Growing up I always felt that I was different than my siblings and other children. I ran away when I was a teen and still can’t really name the reason why. I took some very scary risks traveling by hitch-hiking and am lucky that I wasn’t killed or seriously hurt. When I read that you are happy now and embrace life and that you accept yourself as you are, it made me feel hopeful. Thank you for telling your story in such a down-to-earth way. I agree with others whose comments I hope make you realize that you gave us hope that we can be happy and fulfilled.

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