My ADHD Diagnosis Story * “You’re just a mom of four kids, with lots going on.” That was the answer I was given, over and over and over again when I asked, scratched that, begged professionals to test me for ADHD. Talk about dismissive. And unhelpful. And wrong. I never suspected I had ADHD growing up. I mean, it wasn’t a majorly talked about thing and it definitely wasn’t for girls. I knew I had sensory processing struggles but even my mom, who is an occupational therapist, was still learning about what that meant.
But ADHD? Nope. But as I got older, and I had to fill out a questionnaire for one of my sons as part of a neuropsychological evaluation, the wheels started churning in my brain. For every question that I marked a 4 or a 5, “almost always” or “always,” I could have answered the same for myself. At the same time, the set routines and expected daily structures I had had in my life for years, started falling to the wayside.
No more nap schedules. No more going to the same schools. No more simple days where I could count on breakfast at seven, dinner at five thirty and bedtime and eight. I found myself struggling more and more to get things done. To prioritize all the tasks in front of me. To remember basic things. To make decisions. To not sit and zone out for longer than one should. I started noticing how impulsively I could say yes to things; how my brain never, ever, ever stopped.
I complained every. single. therapy session about how I couldn’t manage my time no matter how many different systems I tried.
So I started seeking help from my doctors. Primary. Couples therapist at the time. Psychiatrist at the time. Neurologist at the time. And all said, “You’re just a mom of four kids, with lots going on.”
And so I struggled. And I felt like a failure most days. And I cried most days from overwhelm, exhaustion, and pure utter frustration that I couldn’t get my life together and run a house, manage my family.
And I cried from yelling at my kids because I felt awful about myself. I yelled for lots of reasons, some of which were because I couldn’t manage my emotions well, I couldn’t handle my sensory overwhelm well, I got distracted by every request by each child which created mental chaos and…I was impulsive.
But no one saw any of this, which probably didn’t help my pleas for help. I kept it together like the best of them…on the outside. A recovering perfectionist, I did everything I could to make things work. I researched every system I could to help me manage my life better. I should have bought stock in the Staples office supply store back then 😉 Yes, I masked like the best of them. “Wow, she has four kids and she has it together!” No, no I didn’t.
I was falling apart on the inside and no one believed me. No one would really help me. Apparently life was supposed to be this hard. News flash. It wasn’t. I finally got a new therapist and psychiatrist. I talked with my therapist and she agreed that ADHD was a strong likelihood.
So I insisted that my psychiatrist test me. She was hesitant at first. “Are you sure your divorce isn’t just also making it harder? Perhaps your kids’ ADHD and sensory needs are making it harder? Sheila, your life IS HARD. That certainly isn’t helping.” She wasn’t wrong – to ask, or in her statement.
But she also wasn’t right. So I pushed and got her on board after I finally said something along the lines of, “Listed, my brain isn’t working. Something isn’t functioning right. I’m miserable and depressed as a result and something needs to change. I am begging you to believe me. To trust me, to test me. I have kids with ADHD, I’m not clueless. Here are the struggles I had as a kid…..Here’s where I struggled as a young adult in the workplace….Here’s where I am struggling now….” And so she did.
And we decided to try medication and see what happened. I remember that day clearly. For the first time in years, I felt like my brain worked. Actually, worked. Like higher level, worked. I could think clearly. My thoughts weren’t all over the place. I didn’t jump from one task to the next. I felt a bit calmer. I felt like myself again. Why like myself, again?
Well, because before I had kids, and even when they were younger and their schedule was simpler, I could manage my ADHD on my own. I had less distractions, less stress on my brain, and more structure. It was when everything went kerflooey that I could no longer hold it together. I still struggle, just less. My formal diagnosis was only about two years ago (or less) and I’m still learning what works for me and what is the exact right medication to support me.
Perimenopause isn’t helping and life’s stressors aren’t exactly helping. What is helping? Simply knowing that I’m not a screw up; that my struggles are REAL and don’t mean I’m a failure or lazy. This knowledge has helped me give myself more grace and love when I can’t do certain things or when I get frustrated with myself that yet another attempt at bringing more “order to the chaos” in the house has failed. My ADHD diagnosis led to more grace, understanding, and love for myself, from myself.
It’s been a journey to get here, but at least I am here now.
Sending my warmth to go with your strength, today and always, but especially for those situations where you are working to figure something out about yourself or your life. Keep believing and trusting yourself.
xoxo, Sheila
🧡 The Orange Rhino
*another unedited, stream of consciousness post
