The dependence paradox: The cycle of self-abuse and invalidation.

This morning I was scrolling TikTok, looking for the inevitable posts that my partner sends on neurodivergence and cats, when I saw a video of twins on the voice who were singing Creep by Radiohead. As I listened to the amazing rendition and melody of the singers, I heard the all too familiar lyrics..."But I'm a creep. I'm a weirdo. What the hell am I doing here. I don't belong here." I immediately burst into tears. It isn't the meaning of the song, it was the words themselves that hit me. I immediately burst into tears and realized how profound the words affected me in that moment. For so many of us, we live our lives feeling the same way. That we don't belong, we are the outcasts and the creeps and the freaks. To quote Nancy from The Craft "We are the weirdos mister." I remember for years being resistant to ANY kind of counseling or treatment. After all, I don't want to be dependent on medication. The number of times I heard those exact words in my career of working with people as a therapist was bonkers. "I don't want to be dependent on medication." On the surface it felt like just resistance to getting help or that the understandable fear of navigating the drug cocktails until we get it right made it not worth it because what if it didn't work. Then it hit me. I wasn't afraid that it wouldn't work, I was terrified that it would.

When that clicked the tears flowed even harder. I am not a trauma therapist, but I have been diagnosed with PTSD, and many of the individuals I worked with in substance abuse had layers of co-occurring trauma. I have had extensive trainings in how to be "Trauma Informed" as a method of understanding how it affects substance use disorders so that the right referrals can be made. In all of my years working with people, another constant was this. As bad as the situation, relationship, circumstances that caused and/or triggered the trauma was, we learned imperfect systems to navigate these things. The systems may not be perfect, but we at least knew how to navigate that hell. For so many of us, the idea of getting better is amazing in theory. "You mean we can live a life WITHOUT this dysfunction or suffering? That sounds great!" The reality however is the fear that if we leave, heal, get treated etc., WHEN, not IF the situation goes back to the way it was, we won't be able to protect ourselves again and we will forget the systems that weren't healthy, but kept us safe. For ADHD it is no different. We mask to navigate a neurotypical world, we develop imperfect systems to navigate to the best of our ability, but things still fall through the cracks. We rely on the hyper fixation to get that paper or project across the finish line at the last possible second. All the while, while we are able to "function", it causes significant distress and conflict. After all, why do I always do this to myself. I tell myself every time, it's going to be different, and it never is. If this sounds familiar to people who have been in abusive situations, or know those who have, it's because it is. For so much of our lives, we enter into an abusive relationship...with ourselves. The cycle of guilt and shame that comes with our struggles to display executive functioning, to activate appropriately, to remember things and not have to improvise to get through it is fed by our own self-criticism. "Why are you the way that you are" isn't just something that Michael Scott says to Toby in The Office, it's a mantra we adopt that masks the pain we feel with humor, at least in our house. Before we allow ourselves to get help, our executive functioning issues are viewed as character flaws, not neurological differences. We spend our life being told that we are weird, an outsider, to hide who we are because we AREN'T neurotypical. Nobody however hurts us worse than ourselves. We aren't afraid that treatment and interventions won't work, we are terrified that they will. Because if those interventions are successful, what happens WHEN, not IF, they go away. What if there is a medication shortage? What if I change insurances and I can't get access to my care? What happens if I move away or my doc retires and my new provider won't treat me or has a different view? The part of us that has built these imperfect system screams at us that we are unsafe and that pursuing help will take us back to all the pain we endured and had to stuff down and hide. That voice dear readers, gets really really fucking loud. Like those of us who have experienced abuse, who have experienced trauma, interventions DO let us heal and learn new ways to live our lives. It is terrifying, it is uncomfortable at first, and it is a battle to quiet the voice that tell us that we were fine before we sought help and that we won't be safe when the wheels come off...and most of all, it's absolutely, positively, fucking worth it to take those steps to heal. I am learning to break the cycle of my own abusive relationship with myself. I hope that all of you who may be struggling, can do the same. Reach out, use your supports, find them if you don't feel you have them, and there is a brighter day ahead. This I can promise you.