[throwaway, because I still don't feel comfortable attaching my ADHD to my online and real life persona]

It's been a long road to medication for me.

I was sexually assaulted as a child. My parents divorced when I was a fourteen. I spent three weeks over christmas in a mental hospital with an incorrect bipolar diagnosis when I was fifteen. I basically ran away from home seven years later when I moved to where I am now.

Things were tough the first year. They got better after that, but over time my addictions took their toll. I struggled with alcohol abuse, tobacco addiction and constant marijuana use -- and a pervasive question of, "where did all my money go?"

My professional life suffered for years. The first few months on a job I would do extraordinarily well. But things would slide. I'd end up reading HN, reddit, digg, tumblr instead of working.

I'm lucky at my current position: I've been here for over four years now; I've made it through two buyouts of the company and one CEO resignation.

It's the longest time I've ever spent at a single job.

A year and six months ago I moved in with a person who I'd always thought was my best friend. I didn't know that I'd end up co-dependently (financial, emotional, et cetera) supporting their own addictions. They couldn't remember entire conversations we had only a day later. I took a long look in the mirror and started to see the negative aspects addiction in my own life. My room was never clean. I had clean clothes maybe four times a year when I got off my ass to bring them to the laundry room (in the basement of the apartment building -- a quick elevator ride away). I wasn't brushing my teeth regularly. I could barely get to work on time, and I spent all my free time drunk, stoned or both -- and binging on netflix and hulu and porn. I had dozens of empty beer bottles lining my desk, the floor... and I constantly complained that I didn't have the time to work on the things I spent all my time dreaming about.

I started seeing a therapist. I moved out soon after, into my own place with my own lease.

Four months after moving out, I was still binging occasionally but not eight bottles of beer a day. Not smoking (either tobacco or marijuana, but holding onto my e-cig like a safety blanket). But my place was a mess. There were boxes from the move that I hadn't unpacked yet. There were other boxes that were flattened but not taken out. Recycling was everywhere. Dishes were piled in the sink. My clothes hadn't been laundered in two months. I spent my free time distracted by TV, distracted by books, distracted by computer games, distracted by anything I could get myself distracted by -- if only to escape from the shithole I called my apartment (in fact, it's quite a nice place). My therapist was concerned because I seemed to lack an 'inner parent.' I just passively was, instead of actively be.

Even when I was watching TV, or reading, or listlessly listening to music, I wasn't actively involved - my mind was elsewhere. I had a thousand trains of thought in my head, and nobody minding the switch. It was as if my brain was a room lined with televisions, each of them changing channels at random with the volume turned to 11.

I made an appointment with a psychiatrist, and was quickly diagnosed ADHD and put on Adderal. I was rather surprised, considering its potential for abuse and my history with alcohol and other drug abuse.

Over two weeks my dose was increased from 5mg a day to 25mg a day (15 in the morning, 10 in the afternoon). More than that and I felt too jittery.

All of a sudden it was like I had control over the remote control for that wall of televisions. I could choose to turn them all off and focus in on one, and even modulate its volume.

I could notice when I was getting distracted, and refocus myself. I was able to introspect without falling into a spiral of self doubt, self pity, and self loathing.

I don't binge anymore. I now realize that alcohol binging was self-medication - it was a way to dull my mind enough that it wasn't buzzing with overactivity. The last time I tried marijuana, I realized what it actually did was the precise opposite of what my Adderal did. Now that I know what it's like to actually be able to concentrate on something, I have no desire to use a drug that absolutely obliterates my ability to concentrate.

I still struggle with the urge to drink heavily, but am actually able to have only one or two beers with a nice dinner out on Saturdays. Booze on weeknights is a big no-no. I have a very strict schedule I stick to after work, because if I stray from it I have an extraordinarily difficult time sleeping. I miss my drinking buddies, but I also feel the desire for friendships that are more than planting your ass on a stool and getting shitfaced together. My nicotine intake is down from 72mg/day to 36mg/day. By new years, I will be nicotine free. Marijuana use is nil.

I was diagnosed ADHD at age 29.5. I have years of therapy ahead of me. I struggle with disappointment with my family for not seeing it and helping me. I struggle with disappointment in myself for not being stronger.

It may be overdiagnosed in some children, but it can also be underdiagnosed. And the impact of not knowing what the hell is wrong with you is more devastating than anything I can think of.