*The wordplay doesn’t work as well as it does in Spanish. Diverting means funny. *

            Since a very young age, there were specific comments or questions that I thought were just part of my personality, until a few weeks ago.

“Ay, you’re super intense.”

“Shit, you’re so loud. Enough, shhh.”

“Dude, what the hell, you have so much energy.”

“Focus, you’re always distracted.”

“Where do you get all of these comments from? You’re very witty.”

“Don’t you have track of time?”

“Not another hobby, center yourself.”

“Can you stop moving? Sit straight.”

“Filter what you say, what the hell.”

And the list continues. I never really paid much attention, obviously, until the pieces started to fit in perfectly and everything made sense.

            I’ve always struggled focusing, always. Nevertheless, I thought it was because I got desperate when doing math or having to find a meaning to the abstract. On the other hand, when I liked something, I would immerse completely in it, even in an obsessive manner. When I told my stories, I had trouble finishing them because I would spill 10,000 previous details or remember similar anecdotes. I would disassociate constantly from my own thoughts or just stare at a specific point with no thoughts whatsoever. Time has always been a very complicated subject for me. I would arrive late everywhere, even if I had calculated it perfectly because I would forget something or remember I had to do other errands. And just like that, I would instantly categorize myself as a mess. I’m not saying I’m not anymore, but there’s an explanation for it.

            My therapist did an evaluation after having found a pattern in my behavior. Spoiler alert: I’m not a psychopath.

“Alright, I am going to ask you several questions to determine if you have ADHD (attention deficit hyperactivity disorder). According to how we have been dealing with the therapies, certain procrastination problems, and behaviors, it is essential to have a diagnosis.” She said seriously.

“Okay, ask
me,” I responded confidently.

“As a kid, did you attend language, writing, or reading therapies?”

“Yes, I had dyslexia.”

So if you notice typos at times, I do know how to write, but now you know the reason jajaj.

“Did you have authority issues or any type of confrontations in kindergarten that you can remember?”

“Umm, yes. I remember being very restless and energetic. I was told by my parents that I learned how to speak when I was 10 months old, and haven’t shut up ever since. But in kinder and till today, I always ask to go to the toilet whenever I can’t handle being sitting for a long time or having to listen to the same person talking for a while.” I said a bit ashamed.

 “But, something that I will not forget was when my parents were called from school to scold me. At kinder, I
used to ask for permission to go to the bathroom, and then sneak towards the
garden to catch lizards. I would bring them into the classroom and put them in my classmates’ belongings as gifts. And yes, during high school, I was kicked out of class constantly for talking too much or distracting my friends.”

“I see. Have you had rage issues?” She asked while making notes. 

“Well, there are specific behaviors that irrationally desperate me and I tend to interrupt people when speaking to finish their sentences or because I must comment.”

“How were your grades?”

“Excellent in the subjects that I liked and the ones that I didn’t, I failed.”

“Math and physics?”

“Yup.”

“What sports did you practice?”

“All of them, to be honest. I did ballet, Olympic gymnastics, basket, soccer, boxing, yoga… But I would always change when I got bored, so I never really committed to one specifically.”

“Do you have a reputation for being unpunctual?”

“Totally.”

“Well, I still need to check other notes, but you do have ADHD.”

            At that moment, I felt a tremendous relief. I was not a horrible mess. There was a rational explanation for how I acted, thought, and felt: I was neurodivergent. Well, I still am. I told my family, and since they are not bullies at all, they nicknamed me ADH-ALE. *Also works better in Spanish.* It also made sense for them, even though they never suspected I had it. They just called me intense. I did have my doubts, but only because my neurodivergent friends told me I had it.

“Hey, Alessa, I think you might also have ADHD. Do you wanna try my Adderall to see if you feel any different?”

“It takes one to know one.” It is very true, my friends.

            I would like to emphasize the importance of therapy because, without it, I would have never had a diagnosis. To be honest, knowing that I have ADHD is very liberating because I understood many things about my personality, experiences, decisions, and emotions. I would see the world in extremes, black and white: either I loved something, or I despised it, I would get immersed or leave it completely, I would feel an intense connection, or I’d get bored immediately. I used to think there was something wrong with me because I had a harder time focusing, was guilty for being forgetful, selfish for not managing time properly, hypersensitive to certain situations, obsessive with specific topics, and incapable of being serious.

       I do feel more peaceful because I have been working on myself and using the proper tools to concentrate and deal with my changing emotions better. It is also helpful for my loved ones because they understand that my way of thinking and experiencing the world is not neurotypical like theirs, but neurodiverting jejejej lol. For the same reasons, I think that getting to know me can only go in two ways, but not in between. You either love me for my intensity or you hate me because you get desperate. It’s completely fine if I’m not your piece of cake (your loss though). Just ask Mickey Mouse. LOL.

            Some of the classic behaviors of people with ADHD include a lack of patience and being easily irritated. For several years, I’ve had to work with my frustration and rage problems in pretty absurd situations. They drive me insane and make me overreact, even though they might seem ridiculous. For example, people that walk slowly or who don’t say hi… ufff, I can’t. The sound of people scratching makes me nauseous and is extremely repulsive to me. Going to shopping malls makes me so angry. I get overstimulated and overwhelmed by the lights, noises, and huge amount of people, as well as the never-ending lines. I hate organizing stuff in a specific order only to find it all messed up (aka. Isa la eriza). I get very upset at Kosmo when he doesn’t perform the tricks that we’ve practiced. I know he’s just a cute baby doggo.

            My procrastination is pretty extreme. I tend to leave all my tasks and homework for a few hours before the due date, same goes for studying for exams; nevertheless, it has escalated to governmental and bureaucratic activities. It has led me to lots of unwanted problems. Having a pet has helped me avoid the state of pause, but it’s a double-sharp knife. A simple task like walking Kosmo can become a two-hour journey.

            Sleeping has always been irregular for me. Some nights, I can sleep up to 12 hours and wake up extremely tired, as if I hadn’t slept at all. This is due to all the fast-changing thoughts that
produce anxiety, leaving the brain without proper rest. However, there are nights when I feel a blast of energy through my body and I cannot lay still. I need to get up and do something, which leads to insomnia. Usually, when this happens, I sleep for three hours and wake up with crazy energy.

            I discovered that the reason why I cannot watch movies without subtitles, even if it is in my mother tongue, is because it forces me to follow the story and forget my own thoughts. Also, it is my way of focusing in spite of all the audiovisual and emotional overstimulation. I need to comment on what I am watching constantly. I am aware that it can be annoying, but I consider it one of my forms of love language. Ask my sister if she ever gets bored.

            I recently learned a term that made all the sense in the world. The name for the action is “masking” and it happens when you don’t feel safe or comfortable of being you in front of a group of neurotypical people. You try to camouflage by imitating their vocabulary, body language, or pitch of voice in order to fit in. There were reunions or
gatherings where I felt a huge loss of identity because I had unconsciously adapted myself to attributes of their personality. Sometimes, I would rather stay quiet when I feel that the vibes are off or when I get the sensation that I am not in a safe space to be myself. Apparently, it is a survival instinct.

            Despite all the “negative” sides of ADHD, I have realized all the positive aspects. I have become a resilient person, where comments and critiques of strangers or people I don’t care about, don’t affect me at all. Nevertheless, with the people that I love, I am very loyal and non-judgmental because they won my unconditional love. I love you, homies. Even if I tend to forget stuff, I pay attention to most details. I have the
capacity to remember by heart irrelevant or very personal aspects of people, comments, or situations. My way of solving problems may not be the right or normal path, but my wittiness has saved me in plenty of situations. My humor is
a double-sharp knife, it is either out of context or it’s too hilarious. For
example, when I was little, I would bite my mom continuously:

“Ouch!!” She would scream. “You can’t keep on biting people, only animals do it.”

“Woof, woof,” and I would bark and move my ass as if I had a tail.

My parents would often forget to scold me because they were too busy laughing.

The Lion King was my favorite movie and I had
memorized it by heart. I would use Simba’s dialogues to save myself from punishment and trouble. When my parents were scolding and threatening me, I would answer back with a straight face to make them laugh:

“Danger? Ja! I have always been very brave… I laugh in the face of danger! Ja, ja, ja.”

And my favorite behavior, even though not always to the ones that surround me, is to listen to the same song obsessively in a short lapse of time. By being able to predict the beats and the lyrics, it reduces my anxiety and generates dopamine. Listening constantly to the same songs makes me very happy, makes me more energetic, and gives me lots of pleasure, until I burn them and I need to find new ones.

            I’m going to share the list of songs that were forbidden to me by my sister, my parents, my friends, and boyfriend. I hope that you can enjoy them as much as I did once.   

1.     I have nothing – Whitney Houston > This is the most recent one.

2.     Barbie World (Aqua) – Nicki Minaj, Ice Spice

3.     Choose your fighter – Ava Max

4.     Vivir así es morir de amor -Nathy Peluso

5.     Calm Down – Burna Boy, Selena Gómez

6.     Marea – Fred Again

7.     Hard times – Paramore

8.     Yonaguni – Bad Bunny

9.     Say what you will – James Blake

10.  The spins – Mac Miller

11.  Aurora – Daisy Jones and The Six

12.  Morrigan – Tino el pingüino

13.  Pink + White – Frank Ocean

14.  About damn time – Lizzo

15.  My future – Billie Eilish

16.  What’s up – Four Non Blondes

17.  Rock – Olamide

18. Literal – Tino el pingüino 

19. BESO– Rosalía 

20. 10%- Kali Uchis 

21. Te lo agradezco pero no - Shakira, Alejandro Sanz

22. Mientras me curo del cora - Karol G

Those are the ones I remember so far. 

(Looking at the images, I can’t believe I had never been diagnosed as a child. You can literally listen to the intensity and hyperactivity of my being from them.)