On being diagnosed with ADHD — “Did you know?”
I had no idea I had ADHD. None. In fact, I wasn’t even aware it was a condition that outlasted people’s adolescence. Shamefully, that thought hadn’t even crossed my mind.
Is this depression?
I’ve suffered bouts of sustained low mood throughout my life. Nothing terribly dramatic but enough to affect my day-to-day life. But depression, as such, didn’t quite seem to cover it — it didn’t fit.
I felt different, for sure, but there were some positive aspects of my weirdness that I really valued. I wasn’t despairing, at least not all the time; the lows weren’t that low.
I exhibited traits and characteristics more commonly associated with bipolar disorder: flights of fancy, impulsivity, idealism and so on. But that didn’t fit either. The highs weren’t that high. In fact, I struggled to find joy in anything — even during my (relatively) ‘manic’ moods. The closest I got to that was relief. I was overwhelmed and restless. I was edgy and impatient. My self-esteem was steadily buoyant. I never felt hopeless, as such, just incredibly annoyed and frustrated.
I needed quiet. Or, at least, time away from ‘all this’. Distraction: it doesn’t need to be a wild adventure, necessarily, just something different.
Is this dementia?
My journey towards an ADHD diagnosis actually starts with me worrying about dementia. The links between playing rugby, repeated head knocks and brain injury were causing me concern — both for myself and others. So, I checked out the ‘common early symptoms of dementia’ on the NHS website.
Memory loss? Difficulty concentrating? Finding it hard to carry out familiar daily tasks, such as getting confused over the correct change when shopping? Struggling to follow a conversation or find the right word? Being confused about time and place? Mood changes?
Check, check, check, check, nah, check.
I was fucking petrified. I very much still am, to be honest.
Were my faculties fading? Was I degrading?
It’s quite hard to tell to be honest. I’ve got two kids, both under three. We’ve been all but locked in our house for 18 months. Work’s been mad. I’m shattered: physically, mentally and emotionally.
I just need some quiet.
At about the same time, my partner and I started to wonder (read: ‘Google incessantly’, obvs) about Child #1: his boundless energy, endless chatter, seeming inability to focus, listen or follow instructions. But he’s only three. That’s what three-year-olds are like, right? Plus, the SEND specialist at his nursery isn’t concerned “at this stage”.
But in so doing, I learnt about the genetic link and, look here, ‘Adult ADHD’. [Tangent: I’m intrigued as to what extent Google’s algorithms may have facilitated this discovery…]
Aaaah… The discovery was revelatory, relieving and affirming. Finally, a hook to hang this weirdness on: the good, the bad and the ugly.
So, I called the GP…
