It’s not that what happened couldn’t have happened to anybody, but when it happens to someone who is diagnosed with a condition (ADHD) that inspires a book with the title, You Mean I’m Not Lazy, Stupid, or Crazy?! it’s especially poignant.
True to the book title, as a child I often felt that I was being treated as though I were stupid. This was hurtful and confusing, and led to many angst-ridden years as an adult with undiagnosed ADHD.
As many of you know, the first time I admitted publicly to a stranger (two weeks after my ADHD diagnosis, at 46), that I had Attention Deficit Hyperactivity Disorder, the response was, “They tried to tell me my son had ADD, but I knew he didn’t; he’s highly intelligent.”
This was spoken directly to my face as I stood there aghast. Let’s just say that this week’s fiasco was at least partly satisfying as an antidote to that kind of remark. But I’m getting ahead of myself.