Could it be adult ADHD? Black women are routinely undiagnosed.
For most of my life I didn’t feel like I fit in. I felt abnormal. As a Black girl, I wasn’t often considered. The stats you hear about anything almost never include Black girls like me into the equation. So to an extent, not feeling like part of the mainstream could be partially attributed to living under the white supremacist patriarch that basically only pays attention to Black girls for exploitation or abuse.
But it was more that historical exclusion. As a child, I couldn’t put my finger on it.
I grew up with a workaholic mother. Similar to many children of the 80’s, I felt I raised myself. My mother, even when present, was absent. Her mind was rarely in the physical location her body was. She could be looking directly at me and not see me.
I recall once as a teenager, she picked up my weed pipe from my dresser, distractedly, while talking to me about something else. (As someone who is naturally disorganized, I had it out on my dresser rather than hidden away) I watched wide-eyed in horror waiting for her to realize what she held in her hand, waiting for her to punish me for smoking weed. (I was a teenager and weed was still illegal at that time) But to my relief, she simply put the pipe back down after fingering its smooth surface as she talked and never seemed to notice what happened.
Another time I was walking home and saw her car. I crossed the street directly in front of her car and waved and she never, even saw me. This was common and expected.
I normalized her strange behavior. What could I compare it to? On the outside she was very well put together. Her outfits are impeccable, her manicure is consistently flawless and she is nothing short of brilliant. She is amazingly quick witted, with two masters degrees, overflowing with great ideas and beautifully creative. No one could argue that she is anything less than incredibly accomplished.
However, she had some weird habits. My mother has always talked to herself. Full on conversations with herself. There were so many times as a kid I thought she was speaking to me. Over time, I learned she wasn’t and that I shouldn’t interrupt. It was as if she truly lived in her own bizarre world and reality couldn’t get in.
As a child, I felt I had to schedule in time to speak to her. If I had an issue or a worry, it was unlikely she would make herself available to really be present with me. She was just too busy. Always.
She hardly, if ever, relaxed. I almost never saw her sit down and watch tv, read a book or take a nap. She doesn’t sleep well. Frequently tired. She was constantly restless, prone to anxiety and always moving about, sometimes aimlessly.
Despite all of that, she did a relatively decent job of keeping the trains running though rarely on time. We ate dinner, though it was almost always super late in the evening, lacked nutrients, often processed and rushed. She did our hair though never really taught me how to do my hair and only used the easiest, most convenient hair styles. She picked us up from childcare though we were often the last kids to leave and she frequently lost her keys. She kept groceries in the house, though she’d often forget to bring them in the house and they’d spoil in her car. In fact, she just did this again 2 weeks ago. Been happening most of my life.
Our home was always a disorganized mess. When she felt overwhelmed with a pile of chaos in the hallway, she’d throw a pretty blanket over the mess. She didn’t know how to organize the house and didn’t teach us how either. Domestic duties were not her strong point. As a result, they aren’t mine either.
When holidays would come around and guest were coming though, she’d become a hurricane. Her mood would grow anxious and dark. She would “clean” in a panic. This almost always resulted in the office being packed with all the crap she had no place to put away. So one room would be the place where she’d hide all her dirty little secrets.
I feel the house is a metaphor for how my mom lives her life. While it may be pretty on the outside, if you open any closet, cabinet or look under the sink, it’s all the same: chaos.
For my moms entire life she has wanted a clean organized house. She has tried SO HARD to have a pristine home like other people she knows and has always blamed herself, her children or grandkids for not being able to live as she wants.
I now think she has a larger issue that has kept her from realizing this dream after 80 years on planet earth. Keep in mind this is a woman with two masters degrees from U C Berkeley. There’s little she can’t do.
So if she hadn’t mastered having a clean organized home in the 80 years she’s been alive, could it be something else?
When I have tried to speak to her about her chaotic disorganized home in the past, she immediately gets defensive. She doesn’t have the energy to do it. It everyone else’s fault. She’s making a plan to address it. She doesn’t see her role in keeping her house in disarray. She doesn’t see the insanity of doing things the same way and expecting different results. She gets hugely defensive, hostile and explosive and eventually starts yelling and cursing at me. In short, she has an adult tantrum and then shuts down communication. As a result, nothing changes. Wash rinse repeat.
I now know these are all qualities of adult ADHD. People with ADHD struggle with memory, organization, executive functioning, emotional outburst, moodiness and overwhelm with mundane tasks. Their homes are often unorganized. They forget dates and mix up appointments. And too often they lack compassion for others and even themselves. As well they can be very sensitive to criticism and often harbor feelings of self loathing because they blame themselves for their failures.
I discovered all of this because I was frustrated with my daughter. She talks excessively, is always in motion and takes almost 2 hours to complete any meal. She twirls, skips and cartwheels instead of walks. She has trouble switching from task to tasks, gets up from her seat constantly and can’t regulate her feelings as well as her sibling. I was starting to feel that her behavior was beyond her control and maybe my punishments were inappropriate. I started to wonder, “could this be ADHD?”
This issue is most of the research on ADHD is from little white boys. It presents differently in Black women and girls. We tend to think that we are just failing at life rather than dealing with a neurological issue. That leads to self loathing and feeling like we aren’t “good enough”. We internalize our failures, try desperately to hide them from the world and learn to accommodate for our perceived inadequacies.
Like many girls with ADHD, my daughter does pretty well in school. She is highly intelligent and she uses that to her advantage to compensate for her condition. For example: I asked her do you pay attention in school when the teacher is talking. She said sometimes, but not really. I asked her how she finished her work without listening and she said, she figures it out. She doesn’t realize it but she’s finding ways to work around her condition. This is likely what my mom did too and also what I have done.
As I was reading the symptoms of how ADHD shows up in girls, I made a realization. This sounds a lot like me too!
Photo of author by author. (Does this photo make me look mentally ill? 😂 )
So now I believe that not only does my mother and daughter live with this condition, I do too. In a way that is such a relief. While I already live with bipolar two disorder, there were still symptoms I experienced that weren’t related to having bipolar.
I feel overwhelmed by paperwork, grocery shopping, paying bills on time, meeting up with friends and frequently lose my keys. An old friend used to nickname me “Late and Lost”. I have always talked too much and had wild mood swings. Anything that takes a long time, a lot of focus and is boring is the death of me. Unfortunately a lot of adulting requires this and thus I spent most of my adult life feeling like a failure.
I wish my mother had noticed her symptoms. While I know that Black women, especially from her time, didn’t have the luxury of mental health care, a part of me is resentful towards her. She never spoke of any of her mental health struggles or warned me about what I might face later on in my life. Which isn’t fair because I’m pretty sure she is still in deep denial of having any issues at all.
It’s not her fault and I’m still pissed. I think of all the ways my life has been unfairly difficult- barely graduated high school, internalizing my failures, all my broken relationships and friendships, all the things I started and never completed, my financial issues, maybe that would have been different had I been properly diagnosed and treated. What could my life have been had I known what I was living with?
The past is the past.
My mother did the best she could. I know that. She is still doing her best with the brain she has, just as I am, just as my daughter is. I know the only thing any of us need is an incredible amount of compassion, understanding and empathy. And while I know that, I am still resentful. While not so much at my mother, at the circumstances that have us all dealing with this issue.
What I want for my children is for them to have a solid understanding of mental health and the mental health conditions that run in the family. I want them to understand any potential limitations they may inherit and know there are proven ways to cope. What I don’t want is for them to discover their family’s mental health history only after they’ve had their own mental health crisis like I did. I want them to grow up with compassion for those who live with invisible disabilities, especially if they end up being one of them.
If you suspect you may have a mental health condition, talk to a licensed mental health care provider. This article is not meant to diagnose anyone. My hope is that as I speak candidly about mental health, others will find the courage to seek help as needed, especially other Black Women and those who’ve been historically excluded and oppressed by dominant society.
As always, if you’d like to learn how starting your own business can help you better manage your mental health issues, please come to my next free event https://www.eventbrite.com/cc/black-women-entrepreneurship-and-mental-health-2527889 or schedule a call https://calendly.com/healingracism/strategy-session-45
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