In honour of #ADHDAwarenessMonth I’m opening up and sharing my personal journey with ADHD. Writing this has been both therapeutic and revealing, allowing me to reflect on my experiences and gain some much-needed clarity. If you’re on a similar path, I hope you find some comfort in my story.
It’s a long one (with bonus content), but I’m sharing it in the hopes that anyone grappling with similar symptoms, self-medication, or even curiosity about ADHD might find the help they need. I’m also trying to do my part in reducing the stigma surrounding mental health and neurodivergence.
So sit back and enjoy the memes. Here we go!
Table of Contents
Early Life, Pre-Diagnosis & Neurodiversity In The Family
My story begins in a small, village in Eastern Europe, hidden behind the Iron Curtain and still heavily shrouded in communism. Though I moved to the UK as a baby of just 6 months old (with a little help from the Iron Lady). Life here became my new normal.
My parents had three children, one of whom – (spoiler alert: not me) – was diagnosed with severe ASD and brain damage. He was non-verbal until about six, experienced severe PICA, and had numerous sensory issues, amongst other things. While we had a cordial relationship growing up, things changed when adulthood hit, partly due to my semi-functional alcoholic mother going off the rails, partly because he turned into a misogynistic waste of space.
I cut contact for self-preservation.
Reflecting on my childhood, I now suspect my mother had undiagnosed ADHD, though it was hard to tell given her alcohol consumption. She masked a lot, and maybe that’s where I learned it from too.
My Childhood & Understanding of ADHD/ADD
For me, ADHD always looked like the hyperactive kid who couldn’t sit still, the one constantly running around and ignoring instructions. But I was a mix of that and something else – I could focus intensely when the subject piqued my interest, like maths or PE, but otherwise, I drifted off into daydreams, waiting for school to end.
Masking became second nature to me, as did compulsive lying, which I now realise was a coping mechanism. I’d create a false reality to protect myself from the chaos at home, and my family from harm.
It wasn’t until recently, through therapy and reflection, that I began to see the depths of my own ADHD symptoms:
- Rejection sensitive dysphoria (RSD)
- Obsessive tendencies like trichotillomania
- Dyspraxia and poor spacial awareness
- That stupid leg thing (RLS but also not being able to keep it still)
- Listening to the same song on repeat (2000+ plays on some songs)
- Misophonia
- Time blindness & Hyperfocus
Are just some of the many traits that I identify with under the ADHD and neurodivergent “umbrella”.
I’d joke with my wife – who is also neurodivergent – that I must be “a little bit” ADHD or Autistic, but I didn’t confront it seriously until much later.
Going Undiagnosed: A Product of Circumstance
My brother’s severe ASD overshadowed my own struggles. Most of my teachers would praise me at my parents evening – “He’s such a nice young boy”, what a delight, “he’s always happy to help out” (any excuse to get up out of my chair) – but if he applied himself more he’d reach his potential.
I was a people pleaser, and I would do anything to avoid conflict, because there was enough of that at home.
I went to a normal primary school, I had a few close friends, some of whom I still keep in touch with to this day, but friendships were tricky – I can go months or even years without contact and pick up where we left off, but socialising never came as easily to me as it did for others. While my classmates joined sports clubs and activities, I was happier playing on my computer or Sega MegaDrive.
(I recall an instance of going round to a friends house with 3 of my other friends, and while they all went outside to play football and I asked the parents if I could play SimTower on their PC instead).
I wasn’t a misbehaved child, I didn’t actively want to be the centre of attention, I was never overtly loud, but looking back, I could never sit still, I was always bouncing on my chair, or swinging backwards and forwards during class.
The way the old primary school chairs used to gently bounce you back after you pushed in to them was *chefs kiss*. Assembly was the worst, I just couldn’t stop swaying from side to side.
While I thrived during activities like PE, I loved running around and seemed to have boundless energy, I used to sprint for my primary and secondary schools (go figure). I was considered gifted in mathematics and I remember being taken out of class with 3 other students twice a week to study advanced maths while the rest of the class stayed and played with tesselating shapes. (I WANTED TO PLAY WITH THOSE SHAPES SO BADLY).
But now, looking back at it all with a diagnosis… I realise that my enthusiasm for maths wasn’t about numbers – it was the puzzle-solving that kept me engaged, but that all fizzled out when it was time for my GCSE’s.
I opted to take the intermediate paper rather than the advanced because I just couldn’t get my head around plotting graphs, or expanding notations & geometry – anything more advanced than quadratic equations simply mystified me. My maths teacher would talk more about the Vietnam war than actually explain the subject at hand, and when he did, I couldn’t follow anyway because my mind was elsewhere!
I was unable to focus in most classes, often daydreaming about starting my own business, wanting to take on the world and develop websites. I took an interest in coding and web design around the age of 10 and released my first absolute abomination of a website to the world in 2001.
This was probably the first time I’d experienced “hyperfocus or hyperfixation” for anything that wasn’t video game related. I would spend days tinkering with HTML in Dreamweaver, and I loved looking at all the new flash based websites (RIP).
Hyperfocus or Hyperfixation is the ability to hyper fixate on an interesting project or activity for hours at a time. It is the opposite of distractibility, and it is common among both children and adults with attention deficit hyperactivity disorder.
Additude Mag – Hyperfocus: The ADHD Phenomenon of Hyper Fixation
I REALLY struggled with remembering dates, names, deadlines – any verbal instruction given to me was in one ear and out the other.
I would try to focus with all my might, but unless you were talking to me about something I actually gave a damn about, then I wouldn’t be able to repeat the instruction you gave to me.
So i’d nod in agreement and hope that whatever it was that my brain had managed to absorb was good enough.
As I worked my way through secondary school, my drive to actually do any school work really started dropping by the wayside. I left with 7 GCSE’s, 2 A/S levels.
I would often quip about how I did all my coursework in one all night bender and handed it in the next morning without sleeping!
I dropped out in Year 12, in part to focus on my websites and online businesses – which by this point in time were making a viable income, from £50-100 a month at 14/15 to £500+ a month by 16 and by the time I was 17 I was making upwards of £5k+ a month – but also because we moved from London to a little hamlet in the middle of no-where and my desire to finish my A levels and attend university was nil.
I was living the dream… or so I thought.
The Undiagnosed Adult: ADHD in Hindsight
Like any “sensible” 17/18-year-old, I completely lost focus. I spent all my money on partying, bought a motorbike, and slowly spiralled into substance dependency.
Dopamine Chasing
For years, I believed dopamine was just about seeking pleasure – indulging in activities that gave me a rush. In reality, my relationship with dopamine was deeply intertwined with my undiagnosed ADHD. I would immerse myself for hours in games like Unreal, Battlefield, and, more recently, Stardew Valley.
I convinced myself I deserved that downtime after a long day, but it became an endless loop of chasing the next dopamine hit, always left feeling unsatisfied.
By 18, I was consumed by this craving for dopamine. I was a thrill-seeker, fast driving, with no regard for my own well-being and my reckless behaviour was at critical levels. Alcohol quickly became my go-to dopamine fix, but despite my best intentions to avoid my mother’s path – who struggled with alcohol and codeine addiction – I followed a similar trajectory.
I used substances to numb the trauma and pain from my childhood and feel good about life.
Alcohol soon took over: 20-30 units during weekdays, even more at weekends. My lifestyle hit a dangerous peak when I had a motorcycle accident, which of course landed me on codeine for what is now chronic back pain, only further complicating my relationship with substances.
Although I tried to quit multiple times, I always found myself back where I started – turning to vices that seemed to offer some relief.
Turbulent Years
The next few years were turbulent. I travelled, worked sporadically, and faced tight financial situations. Yet, whenever I was at the brink of collapse, I’d manage to claw my way back by starting new side hustles or coming up with creative business ideas. Panic, demand avoidance and fear make ADHD something something…
I bought a house, had a stable job (ironically, in SEO), a long-term girlfriend, played gigs and festivals. I’d seen a lot of the world. But none of it made me happy. I was perpetually late to work, still drinking heavily, and eventually destroyed that relationship.
Even when I met my now-wife, things didn’t instantly click into place. I’d cycle through periods of financial success – running a business, making money – only to watch it crumble due to procrastination, stress, and impulsive spending. Old vices reared their ugly heads, and I’m amazed at her every day for staying with me.
I’ve had money to my name, yet lost much of it because of poor and impulsive decisions.
Looking back, I regret so many missed opportunities. If I had been diagnosed as a child, or even just sought help a decade earlier, my life would look very different now.
My Lightbulb Moment
Through all of this, my wife has been my rock, supporting me despite my self-sabotage and reckless dopamine chasing. I’ve always wanted to conquer the world, but I could never understand why.
Together, we’ve faced co-dependency, grief, and a slew of challenges. It was only after finally committing to therapy last year that I began to piece it all together – ironically, it was during some doom-scrolling when we stumbled across some ADHD memes that felt way too relatable that things really started to click.
Getting a Late ADHD Diagnosis
I started therapy as I was at an incredible low in my life. I was failing my family, struggling to keep on top of even the most basic of routines, I was letting my kids down too. But what started at an attempt at self improvement, ended up being one of the best choices I could have made in my life. Both my therapist and wife suspected that I had ADHD, so I resolved to seek a diagnosis.
I went to my GP for a referral, only to find out that funding was scarce, and waiting lists stretched into years. Worse still, my county doesn’t even offer adult ADHD diagnoses and the GP looked confused when I asked about the RTC (Right-To-Choose) pathway.
With DadBlog doing okay financially, I decided to invest in myself and seek a private diagnosis.
My ADHD Assessment
After some research, I went with Berkeley’s. I considered ADHD 360 but preferred seeing a doctor for the assessment rather than a nurse. It helped ease my lingering impostor syndrome, though I still wrestle with it now and again, and I’m sure I will do for the foreseeable future.
The assessment itself was fairly straightforward. I filled in the pre-assessment questionnaire, though I struggled with the childhood section, as my mother, who holds much of that history, is no longer in my life. My wife was instrumental, providing detailed insight into my symptoms and challenges – something I hope to return the favour for her one day soon.
I was quizzed on my actions as a child and how certain things impact my day to day living, and the reality of just how much ADHD can impact even simple things was quite an eye opener.
My wife and I struggle with choice paralysis and executive dysfunction to the nth degree. We’ll have evenings where no-one can decide what to eat, so we’ll skip eating all together, or binge eat because we’ve forgotten all day. But we do our best to keep each other in check.
We find it’s easier to take care of others than ourselves, something a lot of people with ADHD can relate to.
My Results
I was given a combined (ADHD-C) diagnosis and the sense of relief was overwhelming. Prior to the diagnosis a part of me was worried that it could be something more sinister, maybe I’m some psychotic monster from the depths of hell (I’d overthink to myself).
But no, there I was, with my first ever perfect marks, on a test I didn’t think I’d be taking this time last year.
The feeling of having “tricked” the doctor into diagnosing me with ADHD was hard to shake. But I remind myself that it’s a common experience for many newly diagnosed people. Neurotypical individuals wouldn’t spend hours or days researching symptoms, convincing themselves they have ADHD just to get a prescription for Elvanse… at least, I’d like to think so.
I’m still very early in my diagnosed journey (just over a month) as I write this, but I’m trying to take it all in my stride.
Living With Late Diagnosed ADHD
This past year has brought significant progress. With the support of my wife and my commitment to therapy, self-study, and reflection, I’ve found healthier ways to manage my ADHD. I bought “Taking Charge of Adult ADHD” around the time I started therapy, and it really helped me understand the condition. It taught me how to take ownership of my ADHD – not as an excuse, but as something to accept, grow from, adapt to, and ultimately overcome.
- Barkley, Russell A. (Author)
- English (Publication Language)
- 294 Pages – 12/21/2021 (Publication Date) – Guilford Press (Publisher)
I’ve found joy in activities like exercise, playing music again, reconnecting with friends, taking on new challenges and engaging in new business opportunities, which have been critical for improving my mood and motivation.
The medication has also been life-changing. I’m still in the titration phase, but the difference is staggering. Imagine having 100 tabs open in your brain, all generating noise – medication quiets that noise, allowing me to focus in ways I never could before. There’s a calm and concentration that I’ve never experienced before.
I’m still energetic, but less hyper, the usual midday crashes have significantly reduced and I’ve gone from ridiculously excessive caffeine consumption (1000mg+ a day) to none.
Though I still continue to face ADHD paralysis and burnout, my perspective on life is shifting. The guilt I once harboured over lost opportunities, relationships, and mistakes is gradually being replaced by self-acceptance, self-improvement and hope for the future.
The ADHD dance where you leave the room and forget why you’ve left, only to return to the room and forget why you’ve entered that room is significantly reduced while medicated. I’m also losing my keys a LOT less and I even managed to take a trip to the shops for four things, and remember them all without having to write a list or repeat it to myself over and over again.
While these sound like trivial issues to have and I make light of the situation, the reality is a lot darker. Forgetting important appointments, double booking everything and being perpetually late, all the while thinking you can leave for a 9:15 appointment at 9:30 and still make it on time is a more apt take on some of the more serious issues that people with ADHD face, and that’s before you go into the mental anguish and guilt you are prone to carrying around with you all day every day.
Identifying ADHD Issues & Self-Reflection
Reflecting on my life, I now see how much of it was a facade, created to fit in with others. I thought that living the rock ‘n’ roll lifestyle brought me joy, but the truth is that substances played a significant role in that illusion. Now, I’m learning to live authentically and embrace my true self without the need for external validation and the constant need for acceptance and conflict avoidance.
Learning to recognise when I’m overstimulated or overwhelmed has been liberating. I no longer need to numb those feelings with distractions or substances. Instead, I’m finally allowing myself to experience them and face them head-on.
This mindset is helping me get through each day, in the hopes that I can do the same for all of my children. We are all neurodiverse in this household and I want to be able to give them the same outlook on life that I now have, without the perpetual confusion and conflict that I carried with my through my adolescent and early adult life.
Encouragement for Others
If you’re navigating similar struggles, I want you to know that you’re not alone. It’s essential to confront these issues rather than run from them. Acceptance is a healing process, and brighter days truly lie ahead.
Remember, it’s okay to seek help and reach out to others who understand what you’re going through. If you want to leave a comment below, or get in touch for a chat, I’m happy to share (or overshare as the case may be).
Looking Forward To The Future
As I continue on this journey, I remind myself and those around me that progress isn’t linear. Slipping back into old habits doesn’t mean that you’re a failure; but rather, I see it as an opportunity to pause, reflect, and recalibrate. I will always strive to stay away from old vices and be the best version of myself that I can, armed with the knowledge that I now possess, I finally feel strong enough to take on the world – for the right reasons!
We all have the strength within us to create positive change, and it’s important to celebrate those efforts rather than dwell on setbacks.
Thank you for reading my story. If you’re on a similar journey, I encourage you to share your experiences or reach out for support. Together, we can navigate this path with open hearts and minds and hopefully live our best lives!
