Tag: #wellness

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Don’t turn away….PTSD hurts, and finding what heals….

I had a difficult night last night. My son is having a hard time as a highly sensitive person in an overstimulating world. As a family system when this is hard on one, because we love each other so much, it’s hard on all. And the most readily accessible emotion is anger. It’s the most seductive, the most comforting. We had expectations about the way our day would go. After all we were cutting down our first Christmas tree together as this whole family. I myself have never cut down a tree for Christmas before. This event went differently than planned in every sense of the word. I always say “you can plan a pretty picnic but you can’t predict the weather”…. that isn’t original in fact I am pretty sure a Ludacris song lyric gets the original credit, but I’ve made it an important lesson in counseling over the years 😉 I also got a terrible stomach just at the moment we were cutting with no bathroom in sight and had been fighting a migraine all day. The stress and guilt and frustration at thinking I wouldn’t make it, to the outhouse blech, threw the migraine into full force. The anger thoughts are so tempting…. the why me’s, the I deserve’s….. the it’s not fairs of it all. I needed comfort and warmth, but instead was forced to be strong for my family. I wanted to show up. I always want to show up.

Strong seems to yield hard on self and others for me. So when my teenage son wouldn’t participate in photos I was anything but patient. He having just come off of being distressed the night before because his sisters were fighting over ice cream. The true result of the ice cream was hurt feelings. One feeling the other didn’t believe the best about her and being shamed etc. Hurt all around. He absorbed and internalized and it stayed with him that next day. And heaven forbid my dreams of a peaceful day be interrupted in such a manner. I wasn’t as patient as I would have liked.

All I can think here is that we need to help each other with this hurt. Shaming does not work. Blaming does not work. Anger does not work. Disconnecting does not work. Warm, open, gentle, understanding, kindness, effort, dialogue, patience…. these things work. If we don’t first give it to ourselves we cannot show others how to do the same. The model where we put ourselves to the side in an effort to give all to someone else doesn’t work either, because our unmet needs turn into anger and frustration that must find a way out somewhere.

If I did not feel so guilty for leaving during an important moment, due to something I couldn’t control, perhaps I would have been more patient. If I said to myself it’s ok Christina they all understand, maybe I could have been more understanding for my son. And then later would have been less likely to have an adult temper tantrum when I was afraid, and instead of showing up in warmth …. I froze in terror. I let my teenage son feel like he was responsible for ruining our day, with some words I allowed myself to say out loud.

The truth, my truth is that when it comes to observing intense suffering especially with my children (unthinkable) I freeze in terror. I have felt not nurturing because of this. I have felt like some important part is missing in me. I have had such a difficult time understanding why I can show up so well as a Counselor, but this aspect of motherhood always held places of deep fear for me. This is what PTSD does, it grips and holds and freezes.

As a Counselor I care deeply for my Clients, however the relationship has boundaries and I am an onlooker to their lives. I can stay and be present, and offer support and I mean it genuinely. In my relationship with my children it’s an entirely different ballgame. But I do sit and try and sort through these things. I believe that PTSD changes your wiring. And that you need to learn to work around your unique self. The self that matches your WHOLE story, not the parts that are more palatable. That you need to embrace and work with the parts that have been hurt, versus rejecting them. And that is the most difficult thing because who wants the injured parts? We want to rid ourselves. When you choose a puppy you choose the lively one that is energetic and happy, you don’t choose the sad one in the corner who looks as if it may be ill. But probably most of the time you give that puppy what it needs and it will likely perk right up and thrive like the rest. But if needs go unmet it will continue to suffer.

I had an interesting morning. I decided after a very draining experience last night in my family to rally and continue forward. I wrote an email and I called the school counselor, and I got up and helped my son wake up and I cared for him in the best ways I know how. I helped him get to school and drove him. He usually takes the bus. I pulled up and saw a woman sitting on a bench outside the school breaking down into tears. I looked once and thought you know what I don’t want to butt in, what if I make her more uncomfortable. What if it isn’t my place? So I went to leave…. something stopped me and I thought I can’t let that woman sit on that bench crying and not do a thing, when I know I can do something. Also the part of me that connected to my own pain thought, oh thank goodness I’m not alone, let me try and connect. I needed her as much as she needed me.

I approached gently and asked if I could sit with her. She stated she had just been fired from her job, and that her son who has behavior troubles was about to be arrested, he wouldn’t get out of her car so she was sitting on that bench. We realized that our children know one another in a significant way and I embraced her and sat with her. The school managed to help and her son went to school and she later told me her boss listened and let her keep her job. There’s still a lot that she needs, but this morning neither of us had to face the things on our plate alone.

If you see someone or something that has a need and you get that inclination to reach out…. turn toward it. Don’t turn away. You never know who you may be affecting, but you can guarantee that you will be impacted as well. It takes a village and we all need to be connected to each other.

If you have found love…. spread it as much as you can 💜💜💜

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My first Counselor….

One post unlocks more….. or so it seems.

My first mental health counselor was Dr. Bob Murray. I saw him in New London at The Coast Guard Academy. This is who the military sent me to. It was about 45 min from my home in Milford Connecticut at the time.

I arrived at counseling because I was stuck. Because I thought having a husband and three beautiful children, a good man who loved me… was supposed to be the key to happiness. I thought this because my mother was never happy and she always focused on the fact that if she had a man who stuck around and who was good she could have been. At least that is what I heard. So I took that and ran with it. I was eager to watch what was around me and to learn. I am a spongey human being who easily fits in, takes on, and becomes what is around her. That is my default mode because it pleases others and receives so much positive feedback which I was starving for. Having been raised by grandparents who were very displeased at the fact their daughter got pregnant by an older man out of wedlock at the age of 19.

My mother was not capable of raising a child. My mother was not capable of caring for herself even. She enjoyed the romantic aspects of being a mother, but seemed to be unable to stay with the difficulties. Now that I am later on in years I understand this as her literally not having the capacity. The first half of my life I experienced a range of emotions around this. I couldn’t understand why she wouldn’t choose ME, choose to be my mother. Confusion is probably the most appropriate word here, and that confusion resulted in a lot of discomfort for me. But as anyone who is determined to “change their stars” I was unwilling to give in to that. I got strong, or perhaps I was born strong, or maybe both? I suppose this is the reason I am so interested in how much of things is how we are wired, and how much is what we are subject to. I’ve been considering and wondering about nature and nurture for as long as I can remember.

My grandparents stepped in and took over care of me (after court involvement and a try with being with Mom when I was young). They have both passed away now. Grandma (Mom) died of Lou Gherig’s Disease in 2006 at the age of 79. Grandpa (Dad) died of duodenal cancer in 2013 at the age of 89, or of missing grandma as I like to think. One of those married couples that had so completely fused that one can’t be without the other for long. The emptiness just kills them after separation. He hung in there for my younger brother I believe. To try his best to get him to more self-sufficient adulthood before giving in.

What I remember most about me and being a child was that I was primarily received as being a pain in the ass. I was loud, outspoken, semi-aggressive, very physical and touchy, exhibited many attention seeking behaviors (not shockingly), a hypochondriac long before I knew what that was. I was a “chatter box”. My aunt and her boyfriend would try in the car to get me to play a game they referred to as “Monks and the Vow of Silence”, in this game I was to be quiet until a gong rang. They probably got a couple of rounds of this in of me really wanting to succeed and win before I was onto them. I was FULL of life in a situation where my life had not been wanted there, at that time, in that way. That is an unfortunate circumstance for all involved. I frequently recall my grandparents saying out loud they didn’t understand why I always had to be on the go or wanting to be doing something, that when they were young they played with paper dolls and were told they were “meant to be seen, and not heard.” I was often told “children are meant to be seen and not heard”. Being highly sensitive what I never knew was how completely and entirely I internalized every single one of these messages. I was wrong, bad, flawed… even in these subtle ways, this then greatly compounded by my behaviors increasing as I reacted to the stress in my direct environment. This also compounded by my being different than most of my peers. I was a tomboy, wanted to dress like a boy, and ultimately be like one. My theory on this is that represented a strength and stability so opposite to me. I also think at that young age without realizing it I knew I would have more power as a boy and would be treated different. They seemed to be somehow more legitimate and I wanted that.

I wanted to feel valued, and like I belonged somewhere. Unfortunately consistenly the message was different. There was a lot of chaos around me, and it slipped inside too. It slipped inside so much that I would find later in life I would need to continue to create it so I could feel comfortable enough to function. It is what I knew.

A confused, sad, scared, lost little girl who wanted to belong to one of those families who planned for you and got excited about new life. Not whose legacy was “their mother was a slut”, and we are now burdened with the care of a child we didn’t ask for. We were going to travel in our retirement. The words always rang in my  mind. I always knew what was going on. I couldn’t be blissfully ignorant about it, and sometimes I feel like I wish I could have been.

There is so much more to unravel that happend prior to me getting to counseling. I have no model for how to unravel this so I’ll just have to say what  comes when it comes for now, until a better system develops. I will summarize for now to: a very unstable beginning led to me being a tiny adult and thinking at the tender age of 18 that my priority was to find a good man and get the heck out of dodge. And that’s what I did. I married a good and lovely man who was in no way shape or form a good fit for a life long partner for me. And the fact I didn’t already know that, couldn’t have seen it, then gave me great conflict because as you may have guessed it breaking my promise to myself and the world that I would immediately at age 18 create a better family than the one I had been given was unthinkable.

Ending up in a counselor’s office would be the thing that I didn’t know would save my life. It began with validation. That was step 1, but then there were so many more to go….. I had so many pre-conceived notions about what Counseling was. I was struggling with my sexuality at the time, but at the very beginning I was looking for more palatable reasons that could be, like perhaps sexual abuse (that would have been preferable than being gay, you see that could be managed and I could have kept my dream of staying married to one person and having the “perfect” family)… but if you thought I was gonna tell a heterosexual middle-aged man who worked on the base of my husband’s profession that… you would be wrong. I had decided I would tell him about my family life and do that work and it would end there. As I unfolded tales of my beginnings the thing that sticks out the most that he said to me was “he didn’t know how I had made it here to this point”. Those words seemed so foreign to me. What do you mean I’m fine? What is he even talking about? My defenses were grand at that time. My being strong and likeable on the exterior protected me, and it held me back. Week after week he continued to ask how I had come so far? And I continued to think is this guy nuts? Come so far? Don’t you realize I’m way behind? Don’t you know I’ve found myself in Connecticut amongst only people on their way to dazzling careers (and most already there at that age)…. I was an alien at that point.

I would write him …. my Counselor… I would write him agonizing pain filled e-mails full of angst and confusion. In the position I am in now I wonder how much worry that caused him thinking if he was doing the right thing to allow the letters, or if I was ok or not, safe I suppose is the more operate term here. I often wondered if it was fair of me to use his time in that way. But I felt like I didn’t have a choice. I had all of these thoughts and feelings and they needed to go somewhere. I write more because I need to write, ever than I just wanted to. It is only now I am realizing the full breadth of how important and intricately connected to my healing this gift is. And now in this almost 37th year of my life. I need to find a way to share this journey even further so others can benefit from it, the way I have benefited from those who have shared before me. My life has been saved many times over by Counselors and Authors, and they lit a spark and modeled a template for healthy love, that I fiercely continued to study and pursue. So much so that I am making it my life’s work. No one really gave me permission to do this, and that’s why it has taken so long. I am giving myself permission now. Flaying myself raw for the world in hopes that perhaps it can turn into something with the right parts humor, polish, or of whatever it is meant to be… to then be delivered to those lives whom it most needs to touch. I want that more than anything.

My Authors along the way include Paulo Coelho (The Alchemist, The Pilgrimage, Veronika Decides to Die, The Valkryies, and so many more), then there was Elizabeth Gilbert’s Eat Pray Love and Joan Anderson’s A Year by The Sea. These came at at time when I had lost so much hope in love, when I needed strength to be on my own. Now there is Brene Brown,  Pema Chodron, Cheryl Strayed, Glennon Doyle-Wambach, Anne Lamott, Anne Patchett, …. I could go on forever. These are the ranks of the people I want to fit in with. I want to be one of these. Someone who guides and speaks openly their truth and who shares wisdom with others. With others who respect and can realize the price tag this wisdom came with.

I think now more than ever this will be a book, or become one. Because of what I learned just today, and over these past weeks about blogging and writing. Once I begin more just flows, when I turn away from it, it shuts off almost like a faucet. These probably won’t continue to be small essay’s. The book will probably unravel from this. The book that has haunted me… and taunted me…. just out of grasp (only because I believed that was so).

Lastly the most important thing (because I just apparently have to choose a place to end because I would write feverishly all day I think). Is I want to tell you guys why this field means so much to me. This man… this first  Counselor of mine…. I didn’t talk to him for years and years, and then literally in true Christina fashion, impulsively I contacted him a few days before graduating from my Master’s Degree…. and I asked him if he would come. I invited him. He lives far away I believe, over an hour at least. It was a 7 pm  December graduation. It was December 14, 2014 to be exact. This man who hadn’t heard from me in years came to my graduation. He is the first person who ever truly validated and helped me understand my painful parts, and he is the only person who knew a young me in that way who came to my graduation. I had the closest thing I could ever get to a real parent invested in me there. I also had my supervisor Dr. James Dipisa who I am eternally grateful to and his wife, my children and my partner at that time Kat. These are all people who have held a deeply meaningful place in my journey. For me it hasn’t always been the same people, in fact my core people have changed quite often, and some have been throughout. I always thought so much more of what I didn’t have and how my life should be or could be, and now I realize I missed out on so much joy seeing life in that way. There isn’t one right way to live a life. Our stories are meant to be unique and to stand out from the crowd and to be shared.

Thank you for reading another piece……

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A great journey can occur in only a couple of hours. It’s the depth that matters.

It’s Sunday morning. Well afternoon now. What do you do when you feel like there’s no possible way to capture the journey you took (in the span of one morning for only a couple of hours), in one blog post? I guess I need to find or develop more skills in terms of summarizing and organizing. This morning I took an emotional journey. I journeyed miles through feelings physical and emotional. The most important aspect of this I think is that at the finish line I was able to lay in my person’s arms and just cry. I cried for so many things. Initially she was concerned, and because of my work I was able to tell her I was crying because I needed the release.

I needed to let all of it out. To allow all of my feelings with no judgment and just to share them. I told her she was my safe space. She is my safe space. I told her how new this feeling is for me. I used to push down tears and my own experiences in exchange for the stiff upper lip that felt at the time like it helped me to survive. This worked UNTIL I had kept my side that had needs alone for so long, that it could no longer take it. It needed air. And because I didn’t know how to meet it’s needs I struggled in anger. I was angry at my disease, at my pain, at myself, at so much more….  and it came out on others for awhile. I couldn’t access my calm and understanding parts, especially when I needed them the most. My basic natural tendency was to be tough, and we are not always nice when we are so tough. I couldn’t access the parts of myself that could help me have compassion and understanding for others, and I knew I would need that if I were to survive as a Counselor. I knew that I could not help other people find a way to allow their process and meet their needs if I hadn’t first climbed that mountain myself. I wish I could say it’s one mountain. It’s not. It is a series of mountains, with peaks and valleys, gorgeous views, and also dark and seemingly endless nights.

Two times since we have gotten together I have broken into a heap in my partner’s arms. I am always welcome to share my full spectrum of emotions with her, and that safety is irreplaceable. But these two times I was at my limit and I allowed myself to not worry about being a burden, about being over-sensitive, that she would shy away from my pain. She is a warrior…. a warrior behind her service to the Army (which I still need to post about). She is a warrior for myself and my children. She is the best kind of warrior. The kind who constantly faces up against her fears and continues on inspite of. It is because of her I have learned the importance of being gentle and sometimes succumbing to our sense of overwhelm and fears, and that this is OK. She doesn’t try to fix my pain, nor does she shy from it. She doesn’t try to compete with it or put it on a scale of comparison. She doesn’t squirm uncomfortably trying to change the subject, or invalidate it in any way “like telling me to look on the bright side”. She doesn’t become so upset herself that there is no room left and I feel I must zip myself back up quickly so as not to harm her. She just offers her presence, and it turns out that’s all I need.

I began my day today with my beloved bath, my books, and my writing. My favorite way to begin a day. I also began it with severe abdominal pain, gut wrenching pain, frustrating nausea, and symptoms that are quite unpleasant and leave a lot of fear in their wake. I am grateful I had the perfect arms of her, and the words of Glennon Doyle Melton in Carry On Warrior to compliment. As always I had everything I needed. Now that list also includes compassion and understanding for MYSELF. This was the missing piece that has made life so much different.

I write my best when I write to her. It is how we fell in love. So I am going to share a personal letter, because aren’t those the best kind? A letter that came on the wings of inspiration while I was having my struggle this morning.

Here it is: A quick note about it. She is a Veteran of the United States Army. She did two tours over seas. She often struggles with identifying with this experience or remembering it for ways she could be hard on herself about it. Since she doesn’t fit the traditional role of what someone would think of as a Veteran she at times struggles with owning her bravery and power. Last night we ate at Texas Roadhouse and came across other Veterans who banded with her and helped us celebrate. It was random and it was beautiful. I know in my heart that one of our greatest gifts in this life will be bearing witness to one another’s journey.

*I feel very vulnerable about sharing this letter. My thoughts are should I? Do I need to? Does someone need to hear all the parts when particularly some of the letter and the way it flows will only make sense to her. I think to Glennon’s book where her Dad say’s to her “don’t you think you should take some of these things to the grave Glennon.” Her reply is how I found the courage to share this part of myself today. “I thought hard for a moment and said, no I really don’t. That sounds horrible to me. I don’t want to take anything to the grave. I want to die used up, and emptied out. I don’t want to carry around anything that I don’t have to. I want to travel light.”

The letter:

“I’m writing you to distract myself from the discomfort I’m currently in. I keep getting out of the tub because I have to use the toilet, and each time this happens I am cold and shivery and soaking the bathroom floor 🙁

I wanted to focus on and tell you how cool last night was. It was so lovely seeing you get to honor yourself with others. You sat with it and owned it and didn’t reduce or dismiss and I’m beyond words proud and happy for you, with you… all of it. I feel so lucky to have shared that with you. I also feel lovely that I’m able to move through momentary petty emotions without them ruling my life anymore. This has changed my whole world. What I mean by this is for a few minutes there I felt so anxious and overwhelmed, and then loud people coming over, and you being super into whether you’re going to text this guy who may or may not want to get close in any way possible with my baby,…. and I was nauseated and hot. For a few moments I felt horrific. And because of that most likely and not because you did anything wrong I almost got cranky with you. Almost let my mind tell me that this wasn’t how I saw our night and you weren’t paying attention to me. Like a baby…. lets modify that to be kind. Like someone not feeling well getting caught in a wave of panic induced negativity.
and then as you so often do you read my mind, I had also worked through it myself, but it’s so refreshing that our intuition does that.

My ex was intuitive too, we scanned one another for flaws and the world so we could be hyper-vigilant and flip out at shadows. You read my mind which said without me having to get upset you noticed. You said out loud that you were present…And in reflection I would have regretted it terribly if I had made those lovely moments about me, whether I didn’t feel well or not. Actually where I took my mind to was how I felt the day I did the Crohns walk, and how important it was for me to take that day to be about me and honoring my experience, and people give that to me, have helped me find my way to it. So I’m so glad I kept my initial feelings at bay because I would have missed out on irreplaceable moments of witnessing you honoring an important part of your life. I also enjoy so much seeing you blossom and open up and share you with others. I have to remember to not get jealous and crazy because I just love you so much, and because it isn’t healthy. I have had to learn this security, it doesn’t come easy.

Today I woke up short of breath with abdominal pain…. terrible bloating and some bleeding actually :/ waves of nausea and terrible joint aching. And it’s so tempting to be taken over by anger and frustration at my body. To beat myself up or make our whole experience that I shouldn’t have gone or any other thing. To lash out at the world, great pain makes us lash out at the world, and those around us. It makes us claw and bite and bargain and deny. When really our only choice is to feel it until it passes, it will pass. It passes easier with someone like you by my side.

So when I tell you how grateful I am know that it includes this: that I am just sitting here smiling, even as I cry in pain and frustration…. because I loved logging that experience last night and I wouldn’t trade it. And if I’m going to have this devil disease it’s so nice to have it near to you…. I could be alone. Someone else could still have you right now. So when I take account of my life I feel like I have a fortune in the bank and houses all over 😉 rich beyond my wildest dreams.

I feel grateful for less panic. Somehow your steadfast gaze and warmth helps me panic less. Our love. I know it’s just a superstition of sorts that nothing terrible can happen because our love is so good. But it feels better to choose safe and calm waters while I can, since we have no control over some storms anyway.

I’ve gone to the bathroom enough that I can finally breathe a little better. Boy is it an unpleasant feeling to have so much air built you can’t even breathe and to not know whether to take an ant-acid or my inhaler :p

I love you with everything that I am. I am the best possible version of myself when I am with you. You make everything worthwhile.

I see you. You seem so much less hard on yourself. I know that will still be a natural default tendency for awhile and Rome wasn’t built in a day.  But I see changes and I’m so grateful for your strength. To be able to live my life next to someone who sees things and gets them and then puts action into those things to make changes that benefit all of us as a whole. Amazing. That makes you a true warrior even, with now an invisible uniform. We now have a teammate in this pursuit. No longer having our resources sucked out of us by being misunderstood and misunderstanding. What an amazing feeling.

Ok back to my morning pages, maybe a little reading and soaking my sore bum in this bathtub. So grateful to be able to breathe a little better.

All of my love darling….”

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ADHD Update from My Appointment Today….

 

“No matter how much you want to force yourself to pay attention boredom allows curiosity to find the key and open the dungeon door, allowing attention to escape and find some interesting place to visit.” – Dr. Edward M. Hallowell

So I went to my appointment with the Neurologist. I took a Quotient test, which was really interesting. You can learn about it here. http://www.quotient-adhd.com/product/product-overview/

I was diagnosed officially. I begin Vyvanse tomorrow. I am very hopeful and really interested to see how this turns out. I have a history of heart palpitations and a tendency to freak out if I feel jittery or like my heart is beating irregularly at all, so I am truly hoping none of that occurs. Medication and I do not have a good history together.

The possibility that I might be able to not feel as overwhelmed and the relief of anxiety and irritability of not being able to even begin something is nearly unimaginable. It is only with a great amount of research that I have realized that I feel a lot of my life has been largely effected by ADHD. One of the most important things that I want to change is the ability to sit and listen to my kids in such a way that they can FEEL my interest. My mind tends to wander and I zone out in almost all situations unless there is a huge motivating factor present. It pains me to say this would happen so much with my children, but it is usually the result of being pulled in so many directions at once that I become too over-stimulated to listen as well as I would like to. One of the reasons I am so successful in my practice is that the need of the client captures my attention like few other things do. There is definitely an amount of guilt that it doesn’t work the same way with my kids, especially when having such a hard time makes me irritable on top of things.

This ADHD has been in the background of all aspects of my life, and I really didn’t understand until more recently how profound an impact it has had. I had no idea that people who suffer from ADHD have lower levels of dopamine as well. This makes sense why mood can also be highly effected. At times I feel like a crazy person, and again get PMS in there as well and forget about it.

As I am writing this I am scanning articles for evidence of some of the difficulties of ADHD in relationships. I had no idea how much ADHD has been responsible for a lot of my difficulty in that department. Speaking of that a huge force that is making my life incredible right now is my partner, Courtney. This is the first time I have been with someone that embraces me so well that I have been able to have the space to realize these things. Prior to this my relationships were filled with such strife that they basically took up any energy I had and then some. Our number one secret in love: We give one another tons and tons of space to be who the person is without reactivity, defensiveness, or judgement. This again will be an entirely separate blog post, but for now I just have to say that I wouldn’t even be figuring this out or getting the support that I need in the way that I am without this new chapter with her.

I throw so much information at this woman on any given day. I send her lengthy e-mails, many text messages, every article I find interesting (which is a lot), voice memo’s, and any possible whim of an emotion that I may have. In addition to this we have a group chat with my 3 children that is often abuzz full of information to sort through.  She has not once over the course of our relationship sent across the message verbally or otherwise that I am being too much. This was life changing for me. I have shared with her I would often have partners scan the length of something I sent before even digging in, and already be commenting on it, as if it is so much work. I can share every single aspect of my mind in it’s entirety with her, and the only result of this is that she seems to somehow love me that much more. I don’t know how I got so lucky.

An excerpt from an article on ADHD and relationships:

PRACTICE

COMPASSION

“This is indispensable within any relationship. A person with ADHD often feels disappointed, overwhelmed, and frustrated. When a person with ADHD appears to be acting selfishly, it may be that he or she is feeling overwhelmed with their own thoughts. ADHD takes up a lot of mental and emotional bandwidth. It’s exhausting and often the ADHDer is struggling to get through the next task. Slow down, be compassionate, and refrain from judgment. Your ADHD loved one will respond lovingly to your kindness.

An ADHD relationship requires patience and compassion, at times more than other relationships. Understanding what it feels like to have ADHD- without judgment- will help both partners stay on the same page and allow you to regain a peaceful, happy home.

The more love you give, the more you will receive.”

Source: https://add.org/six-secrets-to-a-happy-adhd-relationship/

 

Thanks for listening everyone. I look forward to bringing you guys along for my journey through this, and welcome any comment or sharing of your experiences on here as well.