The ADHD Fad Fear

At 18, I was told I probably had ADHD.

Mildly interesting information for a second, like finding out your blood type, but very easy to file in the back of the brain and forget. The basic list of symptoms presented to me seemed to fit with my experience, yet I didn’t think there was any treatment or solution. I couldn’t make it go away. So, I got on with having fun. There was plenty of excitement to distract me from learning more.

It was only last year that I decided to formalise the diagnosis.

But the moment the psychiatrist confirmed that I’d be getting a shiny PDF declaring my ADHD ‘Official’, I didn’t feel relief. There was no feeling of validation. That came later, along with the grief, for what could’ve been if I’d started taking this thing seriously sooner.  What I did feel, however, was a deep sense of shame.

My brain turned on itself almost immediately, and that internal noise that’s constantly chattering away got louder and louder.

You’ve conned the doctors.

You’ve exaggerated, hammed up the symptoms.

You’re a band wagon jumper.

It’s your fault that people with real ADHD aren’t taken seriously.

Thankfully, after seeking proper treatment (including therapy, ADHD coaching and medication), those voices have simmered down. But I was reminded of all of this recently, when a friend told me that her therapist had suggested she consider an ADHD assessment of her own.

My friend was reluctant. Not because she didn’t recognise the symptoms, but because she was worried that ADHD was just a trend, and she, too, would be jumping on the band wagon.

It’s a weird situation, isn’t it? The more recognisable and talked about ADHD becomes, the more people can receive the support and help they need. Yet, conversely, because everyone’s talking about it, people start to question their own experience and motives, and worry about seeking a diagnosis.

And maybe by writing about this subject, I’m just adding to the noise.

But if it helps in some way to drown out the stories about ADHD being a snowflake/woke/trendy/millennial mental health issue, and spills some truth on what it’s really like to live in a mind like this, then I think I can do more good than harm.

I had no expectations when I got diagnosed. To be honest, I only went through the process because I was feeling impulsive and there was a one-click payment option on the psychiatrist’s website.

I understand my immense privilege at being able to pay privately.

Make a note to write about this subject later.

Noted!

But for those on the fence, those wondering whether they’re symptoms are real enough, or serious enough, or debilitating enough to get a diagnosis, there are a couple of things I want to say (with the caveat that this is solely personal anecdote).

My whole life I’ve doubted my own experience of the world. I’ve questioned whether my view of things is the factual truth. I’ve second-guessed my feelings, even when my gut instinct has been screaming at me. For me to have trusted my diagnosis immediately would’ve gone against the pattern of my entire life. It was a validation that my interpretation of my mind was accurate, and that was a very, very hard thing to acknowledge.  

It took time to accept that I knew my own mind, and when I did, everything began to feel a million times easier. I no longer feel at war with myself. I’m gentler, kinder, more forgiving of myself. I trust myself more. And that makes my chattering mind a whole lot calmer.