By My grades were the lowest they had ever been, and I chalked it up to the sophomore slump claiming me as its latest victim.
But when a professor suggested that I see a doctor, I knew I had an issue beyond a slump. I knew I wanted my grades to be higher, but I couldn’t get myself to do the work to the best of my ability.
This was difficult for me. I had plenty of energy to attend class and wasn’t stricken by typical depressive symptoms. I just couldn’t mentally get myself there.
Looking back on how I received my ADHD diagnosis and how I found success in school after being prescribed medication I can see just how far I have come.
The problems ADHD has caused me in my past are much clearer to me now, which in turn prepares me (in theory) for my future in law school and as an attorney one day.
I was never really an expert performer in school.
In high school, I had an average GPA. Didn’t take too many honors or AP classes because I knew they would overwhelm me. I never truly understood why they would, but when I took AP US History I found it difficult to keep up even back then.
Where I excelled was in leadership: Class President, member of the prestigious Oregon Capitol Ambassadors Program, and an active member in the Oregon Association of Student Councils.
I had a physical outlet as a passionate lacrosse player and coach. I had played lacrosse since fourth grade, with four years on the varsity team.
I always wanted to perform well in my high school classes, but staying motivated to do the work was difficult. I did well in subjects I cared about, but I found it difficult to find the motivation to complete courses and assignments that I didn’t find interesting.
I thought that maybe it was just because it was “boring to me.” I heard all my friends talk about how they didn’t want to do the assignments. I thought it was “normal” to spend upwards of three hours on a 30-minute assignment. I just kept getting distracted doing things that seemed more interesting.
Determined to improve, I decided to simply work harder. I ended my tenure at Forest Grove High School with a 4.0/4.0 GPA for my senior year.
When I arrived at Carroll College, I realized just how easy high school had been. When people told me that college was a whole different game, I didn’t exactly believe them. I thought I could get through it by putting in the same effort as I did in my senior year of high school.
That was not the case.
I started strong in college and finished my freshman year on solid ground. I did suspect that I might have ADHD at this time, and I watched copious videos on YouTube instructing me in tried-and-true ways to combat my self-destructive tendencies and succeed without a formal diagnosis.
All I wanted was to understand how my brain worked, and no one in the healthcare industry would extend me a helping hand.
I kept telling myself the same lie over and over again: “I got a 4.0 in high school, all I need is to try.” No, the cure wasn’t giving extra effort. I needed to do more than “just try.”
However, nothing could have prepared me for the devastating burnout that eventually hit. It all culminated when I received my first-ever failing grade. My GPA was far below what I expected of myself.
I left the first semester of my sophomore year defeated.
I never wanted to perform like that ever again.
I felt like a shell of myself as if I were going through the motions of someone who went to college for all the wrong reasons.
I felt as if I was letting my parents and community down.
During this time, multiple professors questioned me about my mental health, reaching out and trying to help, but I took it personally at the time. I’m not sure why I took it personally, I showed up fewer than 10 times for Dr. Greiner’s class that I loved.
I just couldn’t get myself to go to class.
Professors reached out to me with a kind hand despite my blatant disrespect for the class they taught.
I was a broken record, trying to find reasons, something to blame: “There’s nothing wrong with me; I’m just not working hard enough.”
My mother, who has her Master’s in Educational Counseling, was concerned that I was depressed. I would explain that I was not depressed but simply lacked the motivation to attend class or do my homework.
It was as if I physically could not do anything, no matter how grand the plans I made the night before.
Day after day I kept making promises to myself that I could not keep.
I didn’t know what was wrong. I did not know what to do.
It wasn’t until finals week that my mother sent me an article about ADHD Burnout. Reading that, everything clicked and the proverbial light bulb appeared.
The story was about the tendencies of people with ADHD. People with ADHD would accept new responsibilities even knowing they couldn’t give 100%.
Two of the main indicators of ADHD Burnout are feeling tired all the time and performing poorly. Making plans and promises to yourself the night before, but giving up on them the following morning.
I had become irritable and completely withdrew from my life.
Because people with ADHD have dopamine production deficiencies, it’s very common to go into what is termed the continuous “overwhelm-shutdown syndrome.”
The more I looked into it, the more the symptoms made sense.
Throughout my education, my parents had asked my teachers if I had ADHD or should be tested for it, but their response was always no.
Looking back, I understand.
I didn’t really have the classic symptoms of ADHD.
I was always considered to be “too smart” to have ADHD, a regrettable viewpoint that delays the diagnosis and treatment.
Teachers were ruling out ADHD because they said I could concentrate with ease on tasks when I wanted to.
I now understand that I was displaying hyper-focus and hyper-fixation. Just because I was able to focus and engage with an assignment did not mean I was able to also regulate the care I gave it or the time I spent on completing it.
After my disastrous semester, I essentially had one month over winter break to get diagnosed by a licensed psychiatrist, find a counselor back in Helena, and start medication. It was extremely stressful.
My parents had recently moved to New Mexico, so none of us had established trust or relationships with physicians there. My mother made countless phone calls. Because of the pandemic, local psychiatrists were booked for months. Local counselors in Las Cruces refused to see me since I attended college in Montana.
Our only hope was to receive a referral or an actual prescription from a local doctor. I showed up to my appointment, only to be insulted. I received a half-hour lecture on why he couldn’t prescribe Adderall: He didn’t know me. I wasn’t staying in Las Cruces. I was displaying drug-seeking behavior, which was patently false.
All I wanted was to understand how my brain worked, and no one in the healthcare industry would extend me a helping hand.
Getting a meeting with anyone in the healthcare industry during the pandemic was hard enough, much less for a mental illness.
I finally found hope online.
Making certain that I could find a psychiatrist from Montana to diagnose me, I got the help I needed by utilizing online meetings, online consultations, and surveys that pinpointed my symptoms.
When I got back to campus, the Counseling Center did not seem to think that the diagnosis I received was valid.
They picked up the phone, called the psychiatrist who was miraculously there to take the phone call. Everything was officially confirmed.
Now, finally, I could get the medication that I needed.
I now take 10 milligrams of Adderall every morning like clockwork.
It sounds impossible to me that one simple prescription was all it took to get me on track, but it’s true.
My last two semesters have been outstanding and I have felt proud of that accomplishment. If I’m being honest with myself, I am feeling some burnout this semester.
However, I know what causes burnout, and how to address it, and I know how important it is to listen to myself.
I know not to ignore the signs.
As the stress of the end of my junior year begins to take a toll, it might be time to reevaluate the dosage of my medication. Who knows?
I have expectations for myself. I have wanted to attend law school since I was a little kid. If I’m vigilant in the care of my mental health, I can achieve that dream.
Just as physical injuries can end an NFL player’s career, a mental health crisis can crush a student’s academic dreams.
But there is a road back from such struggles. It’s all about how we respond to the hard times.
I could have let the burnout stop me from attending law school, but I haven’t. With the help of my mother and many supportive professors, I found my way back to good health.
ADHD is just one mental health issue, among many. Mental health goes beyond disorders, beyond conditions.
When life happens, our mental health can be affected. If a family member dies or a significant other breaks up with us, we can lose our balance.
The good news is this: There is a path back, a way to recover. Counseling and medication may be part of the answer. Even taking a day to ourselves where we binge on all our favorite things can help.
When struggling with our mental health, everything matters. Set a schedule, work out, go to more events, and make sure we’re fed.
It’s an ongoing process. We may never find all the answers to in our life. I know I won’t.
But by giving up on the process we let ourselves down.
Don’t tell yourself the same lie I told myself: “Work harder, do better.”
There is a reason we ask for the help of others when we are injured and unable to walk, the burden we carry is not one that is to be borne by our lonesome.
Reach out and allow others to help prop you up.
We must care for our minds as much as we care for our bodies.
