After I published my first post—Three Trips and a Lightbulb Moment—I thought the flood of memories might slow down.
They didn’t.
In fact, they cracked wide open.
Because once I started seeing myself clearly, there was no stuffing it all back down.
💊 Starting, Stopping, and Starting Again
I was first put on ADHD medication in 4th grade, and I stayed on it through college.
Then came adulthood—and with it, impossible systems.
Refills were harder. Appointments trickier. Stigma louder.
So I stopped.
And for a while, I managed. I got married, had babies, held it all together the best I could.
Until I couldn’t.
🌫 The Fog I Didn’t Know I Was In
After Small Fry weaned, I restarted meds.
It was like someone turned the lights on in a room I didn’t know I was living in the dark.
I could finally:
- Finish a task without switching tabs in my brain.
- Clean the kitchen and remember why I walked in.
- Respond to chaos without feeling like I was unraveling inside.
I remember thinking,
“Oh. This is how other people feel every day?”
⚠️ Then Came the Headaches
Two weeks in, I had three migraines in five days.
The stimulant wasn’t a good fit for my body.
We tried a few other options and eventually landed on Strattera.
I knew it was the one when Small Fry dumped an entire bag of flour across the hallway and into his room…
And I didn’t yell.
Didn’t freeze.
Didn’t cry.
I just… cleaned it up.
Calm. Present. Functional.
That had never happened before.
💥 The Setback That Shook Me
Around Mother’s Day 2017, I had a sudden gallbladder attack.
At first, we thought the medication might be to blame.
So I stopped it.
We tried switching again, but nothing else worked the same.
Eventually, I went back to Strattera—because it didn’t just help my focus, it helped my anxiety too.
I stayed on it for years—until 2022, when life got hard again.
Really hard.
Like many moms, I put myself last.
And my brain? It went right back to survival mode.
🛒 The Walmart Message
It was February 2023 when I realized something had to give.
I was standing in Walmart.
Foggy. Tired. Scattered. Spent.
And I knew if I didn’t message my GP right then and there, I’d forget again.
So I did. Right in the aisle, between groceries and brain fog.
We restarted. Adjusted the dose—especially after my RNY surgery. My stomach couldn’t handle the full dose at once.
But we figured it out.
Because I need this medication.
Not to feel “superhuman.”
Just to function like other people already do.
🧠 The Truth About ADHD in Adulthood
The world still treats ADHD like something we outgrow.
But I haven’t outgrown anything.
I’ve just gotten better at pretending—until I can’t anymore.
I know what it’s like to:
- Spiral in silence.
- Forget a load of laundry five times in one day.
- Lose the words in the middle of a sentence.
- Feel guilt for things you can’t control.
And I’m done living under that shame.
I know what my brain needs now.
And I’m not apologizing for it anymore.
🏫 Homeschooling Was Never the Plan—Until It Was
I swore we’d never homeschool.
Said I didn’t have the patience.
But after COVID, I saw the writing on the wall.
I saw the push to isolate desks, to enforce silence, to box in every behavior—and call it support.
I saw Big Mac being nudged toward the same cracks I fell through.
And I said no.
Just for a year.
That was the plan.
But one year turned into more.
Because for the first time, we were building a system that worked for them, not against them.
💬 What I Know Now
ADHD wasn’t something I outgrew.
It’s something I finally understand.
This journey taught me:
- Medication is not weakness—it’s access to my own mind.
- Support isn’t always found in systems—it’s built in small, sacred spaces.
- The stories we’ve buried hold the key to healing.
Last week, I shared these stories with my therapist.
I told her I hated journaling. She smiled and said:
“You’re doing it now—just in your way.”
She’s right.
This isn’t just a blog.
It’s my story—finally told.
Unmasked. Unapologetic.
And maybe, finally, understood.
Simple Southern Mommy 