Seven ADHD Realizations That Changed My Perspective Last Year

And what I’m doing differently now.

Photo by Danil Aksenov on Unsplash

My understanding of my ADHD didn’t come all at once. The waves of realization and understanding arrived slowly, particularly over the last year.

It has been a process two decades in the making.

I was first diagnosed at age 11. But I wasn’t told much about my symptoms and their real-world effects. I’m still uncertain whether my mom chose not to share my childhood diagnosis with me or if I knew about it and forgot.

Then, at 31, doctors diagnosed me with ADHD, and things finally started to make sense.

Since I was re-diagnosed as an adult, I’ve spent the last few years learning about my ADHD. I’ve made unexpected connections and started to piece together and contextualize my experiences.

When adults discover they’ve had a condition their whole life, Dr. Danielle Spencer calls this ‘metagnosis’.

It can occur when the condition has remained undetected (e.g. colorblindness) and/or when the diagnostic categories themselves have shifted (e.g. ADHD). More broadly, it can occur with unexpected revelations bearing upon selfhood, such as surprising genetic test results.

This process of self-discovery is familiar to adult ADHDers. Over half of us aren’t diagnosed until age 18 or later. A top ADHD researcher estimates that 75 percent of adults still don’t know they have it.

Even if I had known about my ADHD as a child, there was less information available in the 1990s. We didn’t have the awareness and resources we have now to put ADHD and neurodivergence into context.

In a way, I’m glad I didn’t discover my ADHD until adulthood. Yes, I spent a lot of time wondering, “What’s wrong with me?”

However, I now have the resources and maturity to see how my ADHD symptoms and behaviors fit together.

This past year has been my most significant year for self-discovery.

I know more about how my brain works now than ever before, and writing about it has helped me the most.

I’ve learned some hard truths, but with understanding comes acceptance.

I don’t do New Year’s resolutions, but I do believe in reflection. In the past week, I’ve considered what I learned in the last year.

Here are my biggest realizations and how they are helping me live better in the new year and beyond.

My ADHD won’t look the same as yours.

By 25, I was a national-level dual sport athlete, a business co-owner, a published author, a non-profit leader, and an event organizer.

I appeared to be thriving.

But no one saw what happened when I dropped the mask. They didn’t see me losing focus on a writing assignment. They didn’t see me struggle to start simple tasks like laundry or cleaning my room. They didn’t see me crying or having a tantrum from overstimulation or overwhelm.

And no one saw my depression, anxiety, or low self-esteem. I hid it well.

I knew something was wrong, but ADHD wasn’t even on my radar.

So, when I binge ate or felt down, I didn’t know that those harmful coping methods were symptoms of ADHD or burnout. Instead, they were signs of weakness or failure.

Nowadays, when I bring up my ADHD, I sense skepticism in the air. It’s as if people believe I’m making excuses to dodge responsibility.

As Dr. Devon Price notes, ‘If other people can’t see how much you’re suffering, they will accuse you of being crazy and faking it.’

But the truth is, ADHD looks different for everyone.

There are several reasons for this:

• The different ADHD subtypes. They are Predominantly Inattentive Type (ADHD-PI), Predominantly Hyperactive-Impulsive Type (ADHD-PH), and Combined Type (ADHD-C). ADHDers can be further classified into these to explain their unique symptoms.

• Gender differences. Boys/men tend to externalize symptoms (risky behavior, crime). Girls/women tend to internalize them (overthinking, anxiety). They are also more likely to self-harm.

• ADHD is on a spectrum. That means severity can vary in each individual.

• Coexisting conditions. ADHD often coexists with mood, anxiety, substance abuse, and eating disorders. Learning disabilities, obesity, and other neurodivergences like Autism are also common.

• Environmental and coping factors. A person’s upbringing, culture, and support system can affect their ADHD and how they cope.

These factors combine in unique ways. So, even people with the same subtype and coexisting conditions won’t present the same. We all have unique personalities and ways of relating to the world.

I have combined type ADHD, along with depression and anxiety.

As an adult, my doctor thought I was on the milder end of the spectrum. I’m unsure if my ADHD is less severe or if I’ve learned to mask it.

Although my parents didn’t understand ADHD, I grew up in a supportive environment. I was in an upper-middle-class home, and I was well taken care of.

Nowadays, I’ve organized my life to support my ADHD. I write from home because I can’t work a full-time 9–5 job. I work when I feel most energetic (usually after 10 pm). Although I have much to do daily, I decompress with television or exercise breaks.

Because when I get overwhelmed, it’s not pretty.

Like yesterday, when I had a meeting to prepare for while setting up three new smartphones. After hours of struggling with accounting software and talking to mobile customer service, I burst into frustrated tears, and my head throbbed. I spent the rest of the night recovering.

This showed me that I still have work to do. So, I’m working on those coping skills so unexpected challenges do not disarm me.

My biggest realization? That my ADHD doesn’t have to look a certain way to be legitimate. My experiences are valid.

ADHD is a disability, but I still have a responsibility to manage my symptoms.

They had a disability that wasn’t going to get better. Their skills seemed to be regressing, and the gulf between themselves and “normal” society seemed larger than ever before. And so, some part of them longed to turn away from the truth, and return to a state of ignorance when their problems were unnamable and a fulfilling life as a neuro-conforming person still seemed possible for them.

This quote is from Common Phases of Accepting You’re Autistic by Dr. Devon Price, and it hit home for me.

Yes, ADHD can and does present differently for everyone. Yes, a variety of factors determine how well people manage it. Yes, it can be an advantage in specific contexts.

But it is still a disability.

As Price writes, we must accept that we may never appear in the world as we want.

The great challenge of unmasking, then, is letting go of all pre-conceived notions of the type of person we must be, so that we can simply exist in the moment, feeling whatever we feel and needing whatever we need.

Unmasking our ADHD can be perilous. But we must do it for our mental health or risk burnout, or worse.

We can’t show up to work tomorrow, declare we have ADHD and demand accommodations. It doesn’t work like that. Yet, we must find ways to acknowledge it and change how we do things, even if only in private.

I recognize that my ADHD is a disability, and while I don’t overthink it, I also can’t pretend it doesn’t exist.

Last year, I started to accept my reality and find ways to work with my ADHD instead of against it.

That being said, ADHD doesn’t justify bad behavior.

I have quite a temper. One of my formative childhood memories is angrily hurling a Barbie across the room. My emotional dysregulation makes me mercurial, and I’m also rejection-sensitive, so I assume the worst in many interactions. And my impulsivity makes me more likely to explode and say or do things I later regret.

So, this year, I want to walk the line between accommodating my ADHD and managing my behavior and reactions.

Remember that ADHD is a disability, and it’s our responsibility to learn to cope with it. We have a responsibility to manage our symptoms so that we can live well with others.

I’ll never be as productive as I want, and that’s okay.

Like many high-achieving ADHD folks, I’m a productivity nerd.

I’ve tried every productivity method at one time or another. Most of them don’t stick.

Most productivity advice isn’t practical for ADHDers because our brains function differently. But that doesn’t stop us from trying.

But productivity isn’t the end-all-be-all for those of us with ADHD, or anyone else for that matter.

As anti-productivity writer Oliver Burkeman says,

Whenever I manage to remember that this is just the way things are — that the cosmic debt I seem to imagine I must pay off is in fact inherently impossible to pay off — I find I’m far better able to relax in the midst of having too much to do, as opposed to making relaxation dependent on first getting on top of it all (which I never will).

I’m very hard on myself. I know my ADHD causes my attention issues. I go to sleep, cursing myself for not being able to finish everything and feeling like a failure.

But Burkeman advises differently:

What if you worked on the basis that you began each day at zero balance, so that everything you accomplished — every task you got done, every tiny thing you did to address the world’s troubles, or the needs of your household — put you ever further into the black? What if — and personally I find this thought almost unthinkable in is radicalism, but still, here goes — what if there’s nothing you ever have to do to earn your spot on the planet? What if everything you actually get around to doing, on any given day, is in some important sense surplus to minimum requirements?

By this logic, doing the laundry is as good as writing my Medium post. Both are steps in the right direction. Under Burkeman’s system, no task is more valuable than the other.

And completing tasks isn’t even the point.

Our purpose in life is to live, not to produce things.

We must work and do some things to keep life going. But many of us, especially those with ADHD, are perfectionists.

It’s good to remember that, even without ADHD, no one can always be productive. But we often get more done each day than we think.

Burkeman advises keeping a “done list” to note everything we do daily. Artist and writer Austin Kleon does the same.

I started keeping logs in November. I’m often amazed at the end of the day when I review my long task log. It shows I got things done—usually a lot of things.

I still get self-critical at times. A common thought is, “But you still didn’t do (fill in the blank).” I’m getting better at ignoring it.

Last year, I realized that my lack of productivity was a part of my ADHD. But everyone struggles with this to some extent.

Consider a “done list.” It may reduce perfectionism. Also, be gentler with yourself. No one can get it all done.

Procrastination is a part of my workflow.

I’m always running behind.

In school, I finished papers the night before.

At work, I completed reports right before they were due (if I didn’t forget about them first).

I was also known for choreographing figure skating routines in the car on the way to ice shows.

For years, I thought everyone was like this. I had to learn to “knuckle down” and “work harder”.

But procrastination is a way of life for me.

The thrill of a tight deadline filled me with pure adrenaline. I was finally hyper-focused, zooming in on the task like nothing else mattered.

I realized that procrastination helped me complete my tasks… eventually.

So, I finally started to accept my procrastination instead of pushing against it.

A bit of reverse psychology works. Instead of forcing yourself to work, allow yourself to procrastinate. Instead of ‘“eating the frog,” eat the ice cream first. Do everything else, and know you’ll return to the task when ready.

I’m not lazy; I have ADHD.

I believed I was lazy most of my life because I didn’t know why I couldn’t focus on one thing (even if I loved it).

I trained in figure skating but struggled to stay on task and follow my training regimen.

I was an excellent student in subjects that interested me. But, I earned poor grades or flunked out of the ones I disliked.

I need a clean living space, yet I can’t motivate myself to tidy.

Sounds like laziness to me!

Until I started researching executive dysfunction and demand avoidance, which changed my self-perception forever.

Executive dysfunction is the big kahuna of ADHD. It’s a collection of symptoms and can cause the most havoc. Symptoms of executive dysfunction include:

• Focus issues

• Poor memory

• Difficulty planning and organizing

• Inability or struggles with task-switching

• Low motivation

• Impulsivity

Executive dysfunction is, by nature, an inability to regulate thoughts, behaviors, and feelings. We can’t control it.

This means our brains may not want to cooperate even if we want to do something. It’s why I wanted to work on this post for a week, yet I couldn’t focus long enough to make meaningful progress until today.

Then, there’s neurodivergent demand avoidance.

We often feel out of control. So, our brains try too hard to give us a sense of autonomy. It’s trying to protect us from perceived external threats.

For me, demand avoidance comes up because I realize that I have a finite focus. Being asked to do something else and upsetting my already fragile attention span can be anxiety-producing.

It’s not that I don’t want to do the thing; I can’t when it feels forced.

For the longest time, I thought this meant that I was being contrary.

But realizing it was a legitimate part of the ADHD experience helped me make peace with myself.

It’s not laziness or rebellion when we want to do something and can’t. Our brains are working against us.

Some days will be worse than others, too. Without warning, I can go from several productive days to days where I can’t do much of anything.

ADHD burnout is common, and that too can also appear as laziness.

But this year, I’m thinking about it differently.

I work harder to compensate for my ADHD.

Even though it’s taxing, I have fierce ambition and an intense care for my work. I just spent five hours straight editing this post, for example.

In the last twenty years between my first and second ADHD diagnoses, I accomplished everything while largely unaware that I had ADHD or how to manage it.

And this year, I’ve accomplished even more by working with my brain, not against it.

Be proud of all you do. Know that your ADHD makes you a harder-working, more resilient person. Train yourself to notice when you focus longer and work more intensely than expected.

Diet and exercise do help.

As much as I love to indulge in whatever food I’m hyper-fixating on and chill on my couch, I can’t deny that maintaining a healthy diet and exercising daily not only makes me feel better but also helps me manage my ADHD symptoms.

Researchers need to conduct more studies to prove that certain restrictive diets can improve ADHD symptoms. However, any healthy diet and exercise will help.

Note — I am not advising you to stop taking medication in favor of kale and long bike rides.

But as someone who has successfully managed the worst of my ADHD symptoms — and seen them worsen when I deviated from my diet and exercise regime — I am living proof that both of these common-sense approaches can significantly improve ADHD symptoms.

In 2002, I was overweight and diagnosed with ADHD for the first time. At the advice of my mom’s mental health professional colleagues, I went on an elimination diet.

I lost 30 pounds in six months, and my life dramatically improved. I was healthier, focused, and succeeding in academics and sports.

Of course, that didn’t last. As I got older, I rebelled and binged all the foods I had avoided. I didn’t always exercise, either.

Unsurprisingly, my symptoms got worse. I was moody and depressed. My focus decreased, and I suffered from brain fog. I gained weight and hated myself.

After several cycles of this, I realized that enough was enough.

I’m in my 30s now. I know that now is the time I have to get serious. And I got tired of sabotaging myself and making my ADHD worse.

My diet consists primarily of whole foods, a lower carb intake, and minimally processed sugars.

As for exercise, I move every day.

I knew my lifestyle affected my health. But my ADHD diagnosis made it even more apparent.

Last year, I realized diet and exercise are essential for me to manage my ADHD; this is the year I’m fully putting that into action.

If you are struggling with ADHD, look first at your building blocks of diet and exercise. Are you eating enough whole foods? Are you drinking enough water? Are you exercising? I’m not saying they can replace medication. But, they can be a good starting point, whether you have ADHD or not. Having a better diet and exercise routine will only help.

My ADHD diagnosis led me to where I need to be (and it has made me a better person).

Despite knowing that my ADHD explains so much, I still tend to be hard on myself. I always feel like I can and should be doing better.

However, my ADHD diagnosis led me to where I needed to be.

Before 2020, I wanted to be a Type A girl boss and tried to force myself into that role.

I made decisions based on appearances, not fulfillment.

I chased jobs, situations, and people that didn’t want me.

Then COVID-19 happened. I realized then that I was living a life that looked good but felt empty.

My 2021 ADHD diagnosis further defined my future.

Over the last year, I realized I might never be who I wanted to be.

As Price noted about autism unmasking, a concept that also applies to ADHD:

Most of us begin the Autism unmasking process looking for greater self-acceptance, but don’t realize what a messy, uncertain, weakened, traumatized, resentful version of ourselves we’re going to have to accept.

What if I could never be that hot, outgoing, corporate-girlie? What if this sleep-deprived, overthinking, self-employed mess is the best I can do?

This was the year I started to accept that possibility.

I am no longer a full-time athlete or a business owner. Most of the things that used to occupy my time have disappeared.

Now, I’m building a home base. I’m nourishing myself, caring for my health and family, and writing full-time. I’m doing everything I should have been doing for years.

And if not for my ADHD diagnosis, I would never have gotten to this place. I’d still be a star-shaped peg trying to fit in a round hole, failing and blaming myself.

I’d still be trying to work full-time in an office.

I’d still be volunteering endless hours to gain acceptance.

I’d still be chasing situations and relationships that don’t work.

Now, my life is boring, but it’s healthier for me. I’m no longer overstimulated and burnt out.

I’m not going to say that I like having ADHD, but I do appreciate where it led me.

My ADHD diagnosis has given me a new life.

It has shown me my strengths and weaknesses. Learning to work with them has made me a better person.

I wouldn’t trade that for anything.

Allow your ADHD to help guide you. What jobs/careers, hobbies, situations, and relationships work best for you? Don’t be afraid to set boundaries and change things when they don’t suit you.

In conclusion, it has been a year of learning and growing.

I learned several lessons about my ADHD.

• My ADHD won’t look like anyone else’s. We’re all different, and our ADHD presents differently, too.

• ADHD is a disability. But I acknowledge I’m still responsible for my behavior.

• I’ll never be as productive as I want, but the good news is that no one is!

• And yeah, I’ll always procrastinate.

• I’m not lazy, but I do have ADHD (which can look like the same thing).

• A healthy diet and exercise are integral.

• ADHD has led me to the right places and situations.

In general, I’ve realized that ADHD has made my life better.

Part of facing a new year is realizing where you went wrong and what you did right in the previous year.

The secret to living well with ADHD isn’t about changing who you are — it’s about changing how you see yourself.

Sometimes, that’s the best change you can make.

This post originally appeared on Medium.