Who Am I?

You know, I think that is a question we all ask ourselves from time to time. I think we ask ourselves more frequently the older we get. Let's face it, I am sure the majority of us are not doing what we wanted to be doing for a living or even close to what we had dreamed up in school all those years while daydreaming out the window. I know damn well if I were doing what I wanted to be, I would be in space right now, or flying a fighter jet, or running my own business, maybe even a politician. Now that I think about it, I am sure 90% of us would love to be doing something else. My problem? I was too busy being a class clown early on in high school. I was more concerned about being liked than I was about getting good grades. Later on, I was more concerned about where the next kegger was.

My family has a history of alcoholism, among other problems. I was diagnosed with ADD/ADHD at a young age—in 7th grade, to be precise. It was my teacher who first noticed and informed my mom. I'm not certain about the exact year, but I know that at the time, being diagnosed with either condition was still relatively new. They prescribed Ritalin for me. I must say, I really disliked it. I didn't like the person it turned me into.

I have been diagnosed with a lot of stuff though out the years. Some of it, yeah I can say was legit but there were some that I kind of was like, eh.

Looking back now at 44 years old, I find myself reflecting on the various phases of my life, particularly the times when I relied heavily on certain medications. It’s intriguing how our perspectives shift as we age; what once seemed like a straightforward solution to my challenges now feels more complex and multifaceted. The medications I once took were prescribed during a particularly tumultuous period in my life, when I was grappling with emotional and physical health issues that felt insurmountable at the time.

As I navigate through my mid-forties, I am actually trying to get some of those medications again. This decision is not made lightly; it comes after much contemplation and discussions with healthcare professionals. I find myself wondering if those treatments, which once provided a semblance of normalcy, might offer me the support I need once more. The reasons behind this renewed interest are layered; they encompass a mix of nostalgia for the stability those medications provided, as well as a genuine hope that they could help me manage the stresses and strains of adult life in a more effective way.

However, that's a story for another time. There are so many aspects to consider: the stigma surrounding medication, the evolution of my understanding of mental health, and the ongoing journey of self-discovery that accompanies adulthood. It's not just about the medications themselves, but also about the lessons learned and the personal growth experienced along the way. Each step I take in this journey continues to shape my identity and my approach to well-being.