My Continuous Search of Self and Success
Destiny Ortiz
The frustrating struggle of not knowing what is different about you from the “normal people” you are surrounded by at school or work while you are struggling and seeing others around you succeeding socially, academically, or professionally, even though you are trying everything to achieve your version of success has continually haunted me since my earliest of memories. We are all taught that there are some standards that one ought to uphold to succeed in life. But what happens when your very existence makes you question everything you have learned about achieving goals and completing even the simplest of tasks because you constantly fail when you know you should be capable of excelling? What happens when your inner conflict deepens because every adult sees you as smart but lazy when you know that is not the case?
Well, that is me, a young woman who did not know about the term ‘neurodiverse’ until I entered college and finally faced what I was in denial of for many years, and I thank mental health stigma for that. Let me preface this story by stating that I have not been formally diagnosed with ADHD or any disorders recognized under the neurodiversity spectrum, but I have taken many assessments. I also believe that not having a formal diagnosis should not undermine someone’s experiences and exploration of finding the label that may be describing them, even when the criteria that dictate which symptoms make up disorders are easy to mix up because there is a lot of overlap and comorbidities that lie within the diagnostic standards. It is a privilege for many to receive formal diagnoses.
All my life, since I entered preschool, I have been labeled as shy. Shy, a label I have grown to hate. What do you see when you think of the words shy, timid, or meek? Well, others saw me as too afraid to voice my opinions or answer questions in class, an almost invisible person because not making one’s presence known leads to blending in and being forgettable. It did not help that I attended catholic elementary school, where we all had to wear uniforms, a form of conformity I both miss and loathe. I received an “award” named Minnie Mouse because I was the quietest fifth-grade student; what a backhanded compliment of an award.
Since I was a little Puerto Rican-American girl, the shy crybaby kid at catholic elementary school, I must have always stood in the background, right? Wrong. Those who saw me as extremely shy, especially back then, were incorrect in their judgment. I was even a flyer for my school’s cheerleading squad from ages six to eleven. Even though I struggled with social situations, projecting my voice, and perfectionism, I always loved performing. Cheerleading was the only outlet that encouraged me to do well in school, and my dad held me accountable for doing my schoolwork. Then everything started to shift once I got into middle school, stopped doing extracurricular activities, and struggled academically. These were the first few years I noticed something was different about me, and it was more than shyness.
Starting in sixth grade, I began to struggle immensely academically. I always struggled with math, but that was the first time I failed any class. I had structure at school but struggled to complete homework because I did not have anyone or any system to hold myself accountable. Academics soon became a nightmare when I failed math and my favorite classes, Science and English. Ultimately, I had to attend summer school in eighth grade. Eighth grade was also the first year I began experiencing bouts of dissociation like never before. At the end of seventh-period math, the bell rang to go to my last class, and I grabbed my belongings from my locker, ran downstairs, and tried to exit the school building. It felt like I was on autopilot. After freaking out, I was escorted to the nurse’s office and stood there for half of the last class period until I had to return to class. After that experience, I put the pieces together that I had been struggling with perfectionism, anxiety, and depression so much that I began to break down. I cannot complete tasks and frequently fail at what I am most passionate about, and this persistent cycle continues like clockwork.
As high school rolled around, I failed almost everything and developed an eating disorder. I became so stressed that I lost my appetite as a sophomore; tenth grade began the worst of what I have experienced so far. I began to rage from noise sensitivity and could not focus during class. No matter how hard I tried to manage my time and use planners effectively, I was unmotivated, feeling numb most of the time. I confused my teachers because I performed well on tests and classwork but never handed in homework and had the potential to be in high honors classes. Some teachers would try to talk to me about it privately, but my throat would close immediately, and I would suffer a silent panic attack.
By junior year, I had gained forty pounds over the summer. One time, I feinted and lost my vision when I woke back up. I was dissociating more often than ever before, and I was constantly in a dream-like state because I could not bear to face the reality of being a failure. I failed math and English every year since eighth grade, and I was ready to give up on my education after flunking out of BOCES, where I studied Computer Programming. I am proud to say that I am now relearning to code and am enjoying it. My senior year was when it all changed. Yet again, I struggled and failed almost every class; I took economics and adolescent psychology during my final semester and felt re-inspired. I knew I had found my dream career path and enjoyed learning about economics. Even though by the end of the school year, there was almost no way I would graduate, my economics teacher helped me pass, and that is why I graduated high school on time, and I am forever grateful for them. Ironically enough, my economics teacher had ADHD, and I related to them so much. I struggled with self-doubt and did not believe I could succeed in college. However, my high school counselor, whom I had grown to appreciate immensely and who helped me when I could not stand to stay in class, helped me find and encouraged me to apply to State University of New York (SUNY) Empire State College, known now as Empire State University.
Initially, I applied to SUNY Empire seeking a degree in business because I did not think I could commit myself to pursuing a career in psychology. However, I began my pursuit of a Bachelor of Arts in Psychology when I started at Empire one year after high school graduation. I did not do well during my first year and became suicidal every mid-term. After reducing my courseload and not taking classes for about a year due to financial circumstances, I have grown and am using this growth to redeem myself. At Empire, I became involved in extracurriculars, especially the Student Government Association, where I went from serving as a Student Senator in 2020 to Senate Chair in 2022 and as SUNY Empire State University’s Student Government Association’s (SGA) Vice President, a role I had from January to September 2023. Ever since the teachers and guidance counselor who helped me keep expanding my education, I made it my mission to work through my fears and struggles. Joining the SGA was my first step in working on my social anxiety. I am also agoraphobic, so attending our student conference, where I presented awards to students, helped me face my fear of public speaking. After resigning from the Student Government Association to focus more on my academic goals, I started to work for Sustainable Progress and Equality Collective (SPEC) as a research associate.
Attending an online university and making friends online through extracurricular activities has helped me grow through exposure without it being too much all at once. Interestingly, most of the friends I have made along the way are neurodivergent and have suspected that I am also neurodivergent. They are why I began researching and taking self-assessments. Now, I believe I may have ADHD because of my family history. However, I also suspect that if I do have ADHD, it may be acquired.
I cannot remember most of my life because of childhood trauma. I did not realize I was very forgetful and experienced time blindness because I could not picture myself existing in the future too well. I must see the breakdown of hours in a day to plan accordingly, and I naturally think I cannot get much done because my mind views days in the morning, afternoon, and nighttime separation. I cannot move on with a task if I have a meeting or appointment coming up, even if it is hours away; it feels impossible and wrong, and my perfectionism makes me shut down and not complete tasks because I believe I am not doing a good enough job so why even bother to try. I have found that I must have separate tools and fidget toys depending on my mood each day to be successful; sometimes, I must go with the flow and can function on a simple checklist in my self-made notion planner because I need everything to be all in one place to for the sake of my executive functioning. Otherwise, I must break everything down via time-blocking to view my day. On the other hand, there are days when I experience intense anxiety and cannot use these methods. Sometimes, I need music to focus; other times, I need complete silence; otherwise, I will rage due to noise sensitivity issues.
I can relate almost all these symptoms to childhood trauma. I often wonder if I was always this way but did not notice because of masking. I was in denial for many years until I became self-aware enough to acknowledge and label my experiences. However, I must wonder if these symptoms were always there or formed over time from unhealed trauma. I question the same thing with my identity on the asexuality spectrum. I must wonder if all of these are trauma responses. Would I be this way without my lived experience of a rough childhood? Questions like these are what motivate me to pursue degrees in psychology.
I want to build systems to help youth who cannot access mental health care like me, whether it be due to financial, stigma, or abuse reasons. Children and teens should have more one-stop resources to help them learn how to cope and deal with what they experience until they can receive proper care because I do not know if I would be here today if it were not for the internet and the adults who helped me survive. I also want to research how intersectionality affects youth’s mental health. Being a queer Hispanic American woman raised in New York but currently residing in Florida, my culture and where I grew up have dramatically impacted my life experiences and thought patterns and more people need to understand how all of the different aspects that make up who you are impact what you will have to endure in life. The belief of needing a diagnosis to be valid does scare me because I do not want to be wrong, but I self-identify as neurodivergent. I hope that one day, I can safely gain access to mental health care to deepen my relationship with myself and continue my extraordinary human journey.
