Yawn, Not Another ADHD Diagnosis
I’m allowed to own my diagnosis and I needed it for validation and comfort
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Hi, my name’s Ali and a few months ago I received a formal diagnosis for ADHD, but truth be told, I’ve known this about myself for over a decade.
My husband says I love a label. That’s not entirely untrue, but it’s not true either.
I think labels can give us something to research, untangle and understand. They give us a word that represents a lived experience and reassures us that we aren’t alone.
Labels serve as a portal to our making sense of ourselves.
I’ve always felt that there was something deeply wrong with me at a cellular level. And it turns out, this is partly true, although not fully. Because while there are many ways that I am a bit different from the norm, there’s nothing wrong with me as such. I just have a growing collection of labels.
Perhaps you feel similarly? Do you have a long list of things that you feel are wrong with you. Because in a culture that ridicules different, so many of us tragically waste our lives hiding, concealing, pretending… masking. So afraid to be found out for the misfits that we are that we rarely allow anyone to really see us.
But the tragedy in this is that we all suffer in silence. Whereas when we actually share our vulnerabilities and the parts of ourselves that we feel may put others off, thus creating even greater isolation, we are often received with a sea of “me too”.
Vulnerability and openness builds connection.
Did I need a diagnosis? Do you need a diagnosis?
I had gone 43 years without a neurodivergence label, so why now? Did I actually need to seek an official diagnosis?
Yes and no.
Yes because without it, I wasn’t believed. Heck, a long time ago, when I told my then boyfriend (now ex) that I thought I was ADHD, he laughed at me. Unintentionally, I have put solid strategies and mechanisms in place throughout my life to help me navigate my brain’s quirks. Go me. ADHD isn’t always obvious or identifiable by how we show up to others.
Yes I needed a diagnosis because as part of my personal growth journey, my mission to live as authentically as possible meant discarding everything restraining me from flourishing. And as part of my mission, this official diagnosis was essential, without it I was simply internalising all the gaslighting. I was sabotaging myself.
But also no, the diagnosis wasn’t needed, because ultimately, I am a big believer that if something resonates, if we feel seen by a label when learning about it, then the likelihood is that it is a part of us, somehow, to some extent. And for some people, that is good enough.
Approximately six percent of the adult population have ADHD, but only 20% are diagnosed. This means a whopping 80% of people with ADHD remain undiagnosed.
According to this study on undiagnosed ADHD, those with ADHD are more likely to experience a chaotic life style and impairments to educational and vocational achievements. People with ADHD are also more likely to suffer from other psychiatric co-morbidities such as anxiety, depression and alcohol abuse.
So it seems to me, that if we experience severe difficulties with any of the associated impacts of ADHD we would benefit from a diagnosis, not only to gain access to medication if we feel it’s needed but to tackle the problematic co-morbidities.
No, I’m not just jumping on a ‘trend’
The thing about brain science is that it’s not a perfect science. There is no blood test for ADHD, or depression, or cPTSD. Wouldn’t it be easy if there were.
Instead, diagnoses rely on self-rating questionnaires including the ones used in my assessment; the Adult Self-Reporting Scale (ASRS), Wender Utah Rating Scale (WURS), and the Weiss Functional and Impairment Rating Scale along with a long interview with a psychiatrist on our background, to rule out trauma masquerading as ADHD.
As my psychiatrist informed me, there are overlaps between certain symptoms of ADHD and response to trauma or cPTSD presentations.
Sure it’s confusing. But just as not everyone is a “little bit” depressed, or a “little bit” anxious, it’s simply not the case that everyone is a “little bit” ADHD. And yet, with neurodivergence in particular, I’ve lost count of the times I’ve heard someone say something along the lines of “Oh, I think we’re all a little ADHD.”
It’s interesting the way neurodivergence is being called a trend. As author and ADHDer Kat Brown says in her appropriately titled book — It’s Not A Bloody Trend: Understanding Life As An ADHD Adult — in years gone by our understanding of ADHD was minimal. We didn’t give it the space it needed. We didn’t allow for it. For comprehension purposes Brown compares this to the history of left-handedness.
In the early 20th century left-handedness was simply not allowed. Back then, only 3% of people were reported as left-handed, compared to the 12% of people today who are left-handed. It’s not that there is an influx of people who are left handed, it’s simply that we are allowing left-handedness to exist, instead of forcing these people to write with their right hand.
Adult diagnoses have increased 20% in the last decade. Yet ADHD prevalence hasn’t increased. There have always been people with ADHD. What’s changed is our awareness and all the ways we are opening the world up to be more accepting, inclusive and accessible to people affected by ADHD. We are simply becoming more knowledgeable.
And perhaps most interestingly for women, is that concurrently to ADHD experiencing a surge in research, so too is perimenopause and menopause, and guess what? The two are related.
There’s an influx of women being diagnosed with ADHD during perimenopause or menopause because the upheaval of key hormones at this stage of a woman’s life — progesterone and oestrogen — exacerbates symptoms of ADHD.
In our 40s and 50s many undiagnosed ADHD women find themselves feeling utterly debilitated by every day tasks. And systems that had once kept us highly functioning no longer cut it.
Unknowingly, I had created a perfect storm for my ADHD symptoms by not running my way into perimenopause. For simple but complex reasons, I had reduced my weekly running mileage down from roughly 60 miles a week to sometimes not even 20. And as someone who has used running as a crutch since I was a teenager, I was unprepared for the consequences of running less.
It wasn’t surprising to learn from my psychiatrist that running can be as beneficial as low dose ADHD medication. So, I’m back out running more miles, and swimming, cycling, walking, kayaking and doing yoga and strength work … anything involving movement keeps my shadows at bay.
All the ways my heart breaks for my younger self
How did I feel when I was diagnosed as ADHD? Validated. Finally, someone believed me. It’s wasn’t all in my head.
And then angry.
Angry at all the ways my ADHD brain has caused me to suffer. For starters, while it is not fully accountable, it certainly has a role to play in the difficulties I endured with my father as a young child, which has consequently led to our estrangement.
A few days after my diagnosis I stumbled upon an Instagram reel of the podcast host Elizabeth Day interviewing the comedian Celeste Barber. Celeste talks about being diagnosed with ADHD as a child, in the days when comparatively little was known about it, especially in girls. She describes her relationship with ADHD as being a hate-hate relationship and that it was responsible for her being teased.
I was alot. I was full on. I was loud, annoying and just seemed attention seeking.
This made me catch my breath and then weep. I was that too. Alot. Loud. Full on. Annoying. I spoke all the time. I couldn’t not. Even though I was actually painfully shy.
I was so “bad” that my father would put me on silence! A rule he made up where he forbid me to speak.
Recently, I found an old “report” that my father wrote, a written log on all the children attendees of a water-sports week he hosted (a story for another time). In it, he openly praised and celebrated one of the girls for her mean spirited and ridiculing behaviour to me when I was an angsty 13-year old child.
Of this bully, he wrote:
…to be remembered for putting Alison in her place so devastatingly that even Alison was speechless for a second or two, is this a record?
What sort of a father circulates a report to other parents that degrades and humiliates his own daughter? And to make such a cutting remark about me being “speechless”. Reading this was painful.
Yes, perhaps my ADHD did not make me particularly likeable to my father (and many other people). I was always being told to sit still and be quiet. Obviously I couldn’t sit still or be quiet, I was a child with ADHD, but he likely thought I was being defiant and ignoring his rule. And so I continued to be a disappointment.
I want to hug the young child in me. I want to take her outside and do cartwheels with her. I want to bask in her energy and tell her of all the ways this exact energy will open up a world full of adventures for her.
As you can probably tell, I’m still unpacking all of this.
So where do I go with this? Where does anyone go with a diagnosis of ADHD?
I’m in the process of affirming all the ways ADHD has facilitated my life, because to some extent it really has. I’ve lived a life full enough for a few people already. But I need to find the space to grieve and give myself grace for all the ways I feel I’ve failed at being human — which could well have their roots in ADHD.
While I may have an official diagnosis of ADHD now, which is validating, it doesn’t change how I intrinsically feel, and how I’ve always felt. I rarely fit in anywhere and I don’t belong.
I’m not like everyone else, but I’ve come to learn that actually, not many people are. But, perhaps the comforting thing since writing about personal growth is I now recognise we are all in this together. Most of us feel abnormally normal for one reason or another.
And so, my journey continues. Because while my ADHD diagnosis adds one piece of the puzzle, it does not hold all the answers.
One day at a time, one step at a time — I’m making a concerted effort to prioritise my running again, while also learning how to control my ADHD symptoms so they don’t control me.
If you have ADHD — diagnosed, or undiagnosed — how does it affect you?
The only normal people are the ones you don’t know very well.- Alfred Adler, Psychotherapist
Thank you for reading; connect with me here.
Do you have ADHD, diagnosed or undiagnosed. I’d love to hear how this impacts your life.
You may also enjoy my other Substack Life Without Children, a place for readers and writers of life without children, whether by choice or circumstance.
@Ali Hall - This is such an honest piece and it captures the emotional terrain of diagnosis, not just the relief and validation, but the grief, the rage and the long history of masking that so many neurodivergent people know all too well. I found myself especially struck by your insight that a diagnosis isn’t always necessary for self-understanding but sometimes it’s essential for self-trust. This distinction holds a lot wisdom. Thank you for naming the harm that comes from being misread or dismissed for traits that were simply never understood or assumed by others. And thank you for showing us how reclaiming those parts of ourselves can be a form of liberation.
Thank you Ali this for such an honest account of your life experience with ADHD and lack of understanding from those who needed to be there for you. I have noticed that there is more recognition and understanding of adult ADHD in Ireland now. It's interesting what you say about it's prevalence in women at certain hormonal stages. If a diagnosis gives someone certainty and self trust as you say it has given you, this is so important. But I believe it can be expensive as there is limited access to free diagnosis in the Irish public health services and this may account for under-diagnosis. I am glad that you have found sports activities helpful to manage your ADHD. Wishing you well.