ADHD and me.

At the ripe old age of 39 and a half, I’ve been diagnosed with Attention Deficit Hyperactivity Disorder.

ADHD Illustration

I want to share my experience so far, in the hope it’ll be enlightening to others who have perhaps been questioning if their brain is a bit different.

Or it’ll be tomorrow’s chip paper. Whatever.

My “silly brain”.

I’m not someone who has previously paid that much attention to what I’ve struggled with, or why. I was brought up to get my head down and get on with things, and that’s pretty much how I’ve lived my life.

There have been a few things in particular that I’ve always struggled with:

• Reading. I simply cannot read for pleasure. I’ve tried, but I just find it really hard work. I’ve grown up hearing people eulogise how “nothing beats a good book” or having a “book they can’t put down”. Not me. I find it really difficult to stay focused on reading — my mind wanders, and before long I’ve got to the end of the page and nothing has sunk in.
• Listening. If I’m having a conversation with someone but there is something more pressing or “important” in my mind, it’s really hard to stop my mind wandering, and my hearing just fades out. There have been many conversations at work — sometimes pretty important ones — where I’m mentally forcing myself not to get distracted.
• Planning. I’m great at getting stuff done at the last minute. I’m not great at explaining/documenting how to get stuff done, how long stuff will take, or breaking stuff down into documentable tasks.

I’d previously never thought to scrutinise why I struggled with this things, I had just come to accept them as failings or weaknesses of my “silly” brain. Sometimes they were frustrating and had an impact on my work and/or me, but I’d just come to terms with them.

That said, over the past five years I’ve started to reflect a lot more. There are a bunch of drivers behind this:

• Following a period where my mental health wasn’t great, I received some Cognitive Behavioural Therapy which opened my eyes to paying attention to my brain.
• I’d read (well, started reading, gave up, and then listened) to Dr. Stephen Peters’ The Chimp Paradox .This was initially to help me manage my perception at work, but definitely aligned to the CBT I’d had.
• Working in a leadership role which has involved aspects of coaching, as well as exploring working styles through various models, including Myers Briggs (I’m an ISFP).
• I’d also developed a passion for Digital Accessibility, which has led to me exploring the nuances of the experiences and challenges faced by people with different disabilities. I’ve become more aware of how people can differ, which has in turn led me to think more about how I differ.

Little Danny.

If you were to speak to anyone who knew me as a child — particularly first school — I imagine there would be a consistent couple of themes:

• I was pretty shy and quiet, with a small group of friends. I never misbehaved.
• I was often referred to as a “swot” (see also “nerd“, “geek”, “teachers’ pet” or “goody-goody”) because I wasn’t one for goofing around.
• I was smart, but terrible at revising for things.

I was an introvert, who couldn’t have been further from the stereotypical perception of ADHD. At least, British 1990s societal perception of ADHD.

When I was at school, ADHD felt more like a slur for kids who were poorly behaved and/or had excessive energy. Looking back at my school years, the label of ADHD often led to kids being judged more than supported — ADHD was a problem, rather than a difference.

I was hardly the poster boy for 90s ADHD. I didn’t exhibit any of those stereotypical ADHD behaviours. Given how ADHD had such negative connotations, I’d never entertained the idea that I could be living with the condition.

ADHD-i

Like many other landmarks in my life, my ADHD “lightbulb moment” came whilst enjoying a pint.

I’d met a friend for a long-overdue catch up, and the topic of ADHD came up. I became aware of Inattentive ADHD (or ADHD-I) - I hadn’t previously realised ADHD had a different flavour! This sparked a raft of trains of thought, and the more I read about the condition, the more I could relate. Before long, I started to realise that perhaps there was a reason for my brain being so “silly” after all.

The quote below details some of the common characteristics of Inattentive ADHD (ADHD-i). Reading through this, I felt incredibly ‘seen’.

ADHD-inattentive type (formally known as ADD) is marked by:

- Difficulty regulating attention
- A tendency to make careless mistakes
- Overlooking details, distractibility
- Difficulty organizing and finishing tasks
- Forgetfulness
- Difficulty listening
- Difficulty sequencing events or following detailed instructions
- Difficulty with routine chores.

The ADHD Subtypes: How to Tell the Difference [GRAPHIC] — Insights of a Neurodivergent Clinician (neurodivergentinsights.com)

Getting help

Now would be an appropriate time to call out that, at no point during my ADHD journey, I’ve considered myself as being broken or needing “fixing”. I don’t feel like the impact on my life has been substantial enough that I consider myself to have a disability (which ADHD can be). However, I did want to know more — I wanted to understand why I struggled with things, and how I might need to adapt/develop to get the best out of my brain. It’s cliched as hell, but I want to know what my superpower is.

I should also point out that I’m in the very advantageous position of working for an employer that provides private healthcare. Were I to rely on the NHS for this, the timescales and process would likely take an awful lot longer.

Step 1: ADHD Screening Tool

The World Health Organisation (WHO) have pulled together a Screening Tool, in response to Adult ADHD being recognised as an under-diagnosed condition. This was great for me, as it allowed me to take action myself without having to book any appointments or anything.

Step 2: Speaking to a GP

Following the screening result, I reached out to a GP to further progress my diagnosis. The GP agreed with the screening result, and referred me to a psychiatrist, which in itself felt kinda scary. I’d not really thought about what to expect, and hadn’t considered that someone might want to analyse my brain!

Step 3: First Psychiatrists appointment

This first session took about half an hour. The psychiatrist asked me a host of questions to try understand more about why I’d put myself forward. In reality, this wasn’t scary at all — if anything, it felt really reassuring to be talking to someone who specialises in the field. The psychiatrist was confident that I did have ADHD, and we arranged a follow up ‘full diagnosis’ session.

Step 4: Second Psychiatrists appointment—full diagnosis

The second psychiatry session was a lot more intense. In advance of the session, I was asked to ensure that my wife and my parents attended, and that I brought with me any old school reports.

The session lasted about an hour and a half, and covered all different aspects of my life.

There was a lot of focus on my childhood — which neither my Dad or I could really remember—and sadly we couldn’t find any of my old school reports.

There were also several questions for my wife to better understand how I behaved at home. Safe to say, I felt very exposed!

The questions came to an end, and the psychiatrist disappeared for a few minutes to work out my ‘score’. When you go through the full diagnosis, there is a matrix that the psychiatrist works through. It is more of a quantitative diagnosis, rather than a subjective “feeling”. This was really encouraging for me, as it seems adult ADHD has been a little undermined in recent years (“everyone has ADHD” etc).

The doctor ran through the diagnosis, and that was it. I was officially living with ADHD-i.

The whole process, from the pint to the diagnosis, took approximately a year. However, if I’d gone down the NHS route, this would likely have taken much longer — roughly 3–4 years.

Working with my brain

Now I understand more about myself, I’ve been able to start making some changes. Whilst only small, they’ve helped me stay more focused and minimized distractions — particularly at work.

• Lists! I now take a degree of pride in maintaining to-do lists. This is something I’ve tried many times in the past, and whilst it’s always started with best intentions, it’s always faded out. This time around I recognise I have to be disciplined, and make a concerted effort to maintain them. But I know my short term memory is terrible, and I need to write stuff down.
• Engagement. Remote working has been a Godsend for me at times, as I LOVE to work on multiple things at once. I always struggled with remaining focused in meetings, so having the chance to crack on with something else in the background was great for me. However, I recognise this also meant i was missing key points in meetings and often appearing disengaged. Again, I’ve had to be more disciplined with myself, and force myself to be remain focused.
• Distractions. When I do need to get my head down and focus, I take measures to remove distractions — either working from home, or if I’m in a busy office I’ll use headphones to remove environmental noise.
• Listening to my brain — now I know what I know, I’m a lot more forgiving of myself. If my brain isn’t in the right space to do something, I’ll do something else. Previously I’d force myself to do something, fail, then get emotional because I “couldn’t do” something.
• Recognising my preferences has also made a difference. I appreciate more how I find visuals easier to understand complex information or plans, so I’ve started using tools like Miro to help me manage this.

What’s next?

I’d spent the time and money on a diagnosis, so what next? Why did I bother?

If I’m honest, I’m still working this out. The world is still spinning, I still have ‘life’ to do. Fundamentally, nothing has really changed.

I don’t plan to medicate to manage my ADHD, or at least not yet. I’m focusing my time on trying to better understand what ADHD means for me, and like I mentioned earlier: working out what my “superpower” is.

On reflection, I do feel more confident in myself now. I no longer feel stupid for not being able to comfortably do ‘simple’ things. I not only recognise my weaknesses, I understand why I am the way I am.

More than anything, I think the experience has greatly increased my appreciation for how different everybody—and every brain — is.

I’m looking forward to what my neuro-divergent journey looks like, how I continue to understand my strengths and weaknesses, and subsequently how this affects my future.

Footnote:

In true ADHD style, I started writing this article about 6 months ago, and gave up because something shinier came along. FACEPALM!