This is more personal than usual so if you’re here for writing tips, you might be disappointed. But I really feel like I want to share this and will probably do more going forward. If anything here rings true for you, feel free to comment below.
It’s hard to think about moving forward without pausing to talk about where I am and where I’ve been. I started a new freelance job this month and found myself in a small friendly office with colleagues and responsibilities. And I remembered how long it had been since this had happened and everything that had brought me to this point. Because work hasn’t always been easy for me. And workplaces in particular have always challenging.
I first realised this when I had a mental health breakdown over ten years ago. While recovering, I started working for myself and reflecting on why I’d had so many jobs and found most of them difficult to stick at. I thought maybe it was me. I was annoying, loud, unpredictable, useless. People didn’t like me, I didn’t fit in, I didn’t know what to say when someone asked me a question. The thoughts weren’t positive, and all pointed the finger at me. I was to blame.
Over the years, I’ve been able to take a step back and look at things more kindly. To realise that being with people I have nothing in common with and am forced to work and socialise with isn’t right for me. I decided that this was because of my anxiety and depression and my personality and put it to bed.
Then, a year or so ago, two very different people asked me if I’d ever talked to anyone about ADHD. They’d observed things in my behaviour and work practices that made them think it could be something to look into. At first, I shrugged it off. I’m how I am because I’m just not that good or nice or easy to get along with. Its depression, anxiety, PMDD. It’s just me. I spent three years working as an autism support worker – how could I or my colleagues then not have realised? (I also had my breakdown during this time…which makes sense now).
I started doing some reading, on and offline and a penny dropped. A thousand pennies dropped. Every single experience other, mainly late diagnosed, women were describing, were me. My need to interrupt people when they speak. My inability to remember what someone has just told me. My periods of frozen inactivity where I feel useless and unable to move, speak or think. My endless collection of lists. My discarded hobbies and unfinished projects. My dying houseplants. And so much more. So much.
I took all of this to my GP, who was very supportive and agreed to refer me for an assessment. I know this will take time. Or might never happen. And its hard knowing that I have an answer but can’t say for sure that yes, I have ADHD. But the more I talk, meet people, research, the more I see myself mirrored and feel yes, this is me. This is why.
And it’s the why that’s so important. Knowing doesn’t mean I have an excuse. I have a reason. I can rationalise. I can reflect on my behaviour, my actions, my entire life and start to cut myself some slack. Because self-blame turns into self-loathing, and I’ve done enough of that. Spent too many days and nights overthinking, beating myself up, missing out.
Thinking about myself as neurodivergent is giving me space to be myself. To let myself express the energy in my body in the way I need to. To tell people I care about and work with what I need and why I’m behaving the way I am. It’s giving me the confidence to accept who I am as I am.
But that person is quite different to the one I thought I knew and that many other people think they know too. I’m 41 and only just finding out who I really am. I have no idea if I’ll get a diagnosis or what that might mean. But now, I feel like I have an answer to a question that has honestly held me back and down so much I often felt like I was sinking. It’s not a solution, but a lifebelt. And it’s one I plan on grabbing onto and wearing if it helps me find my way in the world and growing instead of falling.
Sarah x
Blessings, and a growing perspective consonant with who you really are, to you 💜
Also, deeply relatable, as someone who has only just in the last six months, recognised, owned and, yes, started to celebrate my own neurodiversity, my autism, at age 66. Cheered on and even more importantly *recognised* by the many, many autistic and ADHD people I know and love. Being connected with so many ND people might have been a clue, that and my entire life to date… You know that everything, a lifetime of frustration, confusion and pain, all settling into a shape that actually feels natural, and makes sense? 🙂
Best wishes, whether you get the diagnosis eventually or not. I know someone much older who is pursuing an autism diagnosis after similar penny-dropping, and wondering if that might explain aspects of her. We’re all complicated beasts.