A couple months ago, I was diagnosed with ADHD at age 39. Yup. I’m following the trend of people getting diagnosed in adulthood. There’s a lot of understandable skepticism about so many people being diagnosed right now because social media pathologizes almost every human experience you can think of. In the past, I’ve been skeptical of being “diagnosed” with mental health conditions because I’m a black woman and my whole existence has been pathologized. A doctor first suggested I might have ADHD about 8 years ago when I had my first panic attack, but because I had a limited understanding of what the disorder was, and saw myself as the categorical opposite of having ADHD, I ignored it. And spent the next 8 years burning myself out — fighting with my brain and the world around me.
Just before the pandemic hit, I moved with my husband and three children from the west coast back to the midwest. I left an incredibly unpredictable, demanding, high-stakes senior role at a large organization. I’d planned to move into the consulting arena so that I could spend more time with my children and focus on the industry problems I like solving most. And then the pandemic hit. And I simply could not function. I couldn’t get anything done. And yet, I was exhausted all the time.
I now know that the uncertainty and lack of structure caused by the pandemic pushed my ADHD symptoms into overdrive. Getting my family settled into a new home, homeschooling three kids, keeping everyone safe, and launching a consulting practice required too much executive functioning, and I became anxious and depressed under the weight of it all.
I’m well aware that holding all of those responsibilities at once would be too much for just about anyone. I know I wasn’t alone. But months after the kids returned to school and restrictions were lifted, I still struggled to initiate and complete the most basic tasks. It would require heroic effort to sort the mail, make a meal plan, fill out school forms. Then I started to realize that these things have never been easy for me. I knew that I hated doing these tasks but I learned that I hated them because they required an exceptional amount of mental effort to execute.
As if all of that wasn’t enough, my marriage started to fall apart. We are both struggling to feel supported in this relationship but my unhappiness seemed to have sharper edges. Then I learned about rejection sensitive dysphoria and it’s prevalence in people with ADHD. Sigh.
Encouraged by the surge of ADHD-tok videos, I reached out to my doctor about my concerns and that led to a series of steps that I’ll write about later. I’ve gone through a series of emotions, too. From sadness to grief to anger to acceptance to inspiration. I’ve learned so much and still have so many questions about the mind, about life, love, healing, relationships, self-actualization, class, gender, race, culture, food, nutrition, parenting, medication, music.
I’ll use this space to explore all of that and some. For now I need to give my brain a break.
