My therapist agrees that I probably have ADHD. I could (and did) cry.

I finally built up the courage to raise with my therapist the possibility that I might have ADHD. It took courage because I've felt so much shame and embarrassment and have gaslit myself into doubting whether I have it for over a year (if not longer) after I started considering the possibility, when I have a long laundry list of symptoms, because I'm doing well on paper (high-achieving in school and work, very effective masking in my professional life thanks to huge amounts of shame and anxiety) and every time I've told someone I think I might have ADHD, their initial reaction has always been, "oh I wouldn't think that you have ADHD at all," or "you don't act like the people I know who have ADHD" (I don't blame them for thinking that--like I said, many of my symptoms were masked by deep shame and anxiety). I also have a history of drug use so am very sensitive to the risk that my self-diagnosing is seen as drug-seeking. Today, my therapist agreed that I probably have it, and we are going to explore a diagnosis. I feel so relieved to have my therapist's support.

It's a bittersweet feeling, now that it's more "official" that I likely have it. It's helping me make sense of SO much of my life, like I finally have the reference picture for the puzzle of all the ways I've felt alien and not good enough in life but couldn't make sense of without labeling myself as innately lazy or chaotic or annoying or some other judgmental label. I've been diagnosed with depression and anxiety before but neither ever felt like it really captured everything I was experiencing. At the same time, it's frustrating to be putting this together only now, and I'm trying to process my feelings of resentment toward the adults in my childhood for not noticing what now seem like such obvious manifestations (chronic lateness, procrastination and unfailing reliance on cramming for tests and pulling all-nighters to get assignments done, talkative to the point of being called annoying by peers and my own family members, huge problems with sleep), as well as this sadness and grief, like I'm mourning who I could have been and what my life could have been like had I gotten the support I needed in childhood.

Do you relate? What helped you work through these feelings?