If someone had asked me ten years ago whether I was depressed, I would probably have laughed at the question.
I was tired, yes. I was frustrated and, at times, quite hopeless too. But in my own mind, I was not depressed.
Only much later did I understand that I had been wrong.
The knot began to unravel when I received an ADHD diagnosis. For years, I had sought help for different problems, for managing everyday life and for concentration. For a long time, I thought there was something wrong with me.
> I was constantly doing something, getting excited about new things, and I could spend hours looking into something that interested me.
Still, I never thought of myself as lazy. I knew I was not. I was constantly doing something, getting excited about new things, and I could spend hours looking into something that interested me.
At the same time, I might set off for the shop and forget the one thing I had gone there to buy. I remembered details from years ago, but not always where I had left my wallet.
When I received an ADHD diagnosis as an adult, many things began to make sense. I understood better why school had been difficult and why I had struggled with managing everyday life for so long.
The diagnosis does not, however, explain away the mistakes I have made in my life. They are still my mistakes. The ADHD diagnosis did, however, help me understand why some things had felt so difficult long before I knew how to give them a name.
I was also prescribed medication. The effect was enormous. For the first time in my life, it felt as if my mind was working in a way I had thought was normal for other people. Starting things became easier. Concentrating became easier. Everyday life became easier too. Looking back, it is difficult to describe this to someone who has not experienced the same thing.
Then it turned out that ADHD was not the only thing I had been struggling with. I was also depressed.
I was prescribed medication for that as well. Its effect was not as transformative as the ADHD medication. With the ADHD medication, it felt as if someone had finally put the pieces in the right places. The antidepressant medication did not change everything, but it made coping easier.
In hindsight, it almost seems obvious. For years, I had been trying to work out what was wrong with me. Why did some things feel so difficult, even though I had both the will and the willingness to try?
I had become so used to feeling unwell that I thought it was normal. Sometimes I spent days lying at home, without the strength to do much of anything. At other times, I kept going, but without any belief that things could one day get better.
Today, I am doing much better, although ADHD has not disappeared anywhere. Sometimes I think of it as a kind of travelling companion that goes with me everywhere.
Most of the time, we get along quite well. Every now and then, however, it reminds me that it is there. The keys are forgotten, the wallet disappears, or something important slips my mind at the very moment when remembering it would matter most. Then I still get frustrated.
The difference from before is that now I know who I am travelling with.
For a long time, I thought there was something wrong with me. In the end, it turned out there was not. I was not broken after all.