It is so fucking exhausting being me!

 

In case you missed it, I’m going to leave the link to Em Rusciano’s amazing address at the National Press Club about adult ADHD here. But be prepared, you’ll likely be reaching for the tissues. The line that got me most was her thinking back to her 10-year-old self who tried so hard…

 

Don’t be turned off though! It’s also hilarious as well.

 

The amazing comedian, writer, singer and media presenter spoke beautifully about having ADHD and all the things we know so well that go with it, especially the enormous amount of grief that comes with diagnosis. And it motivated me to share the experience of my own. 

 

When a close friend told me she thought perhaps her daughter had ADHD it prompted me to read up on how it impacts girls. And low and behold, I immediately thought ‘Oh My Fucking God, this is me!’ 

 

And then the predictable ‘Holy fucking shitballs… there’s a reason I have struggled in so many areas of my life. Halle fucking lujah for that!’ Yes, there was a LOT of swearing in my head!

 

In that moment, every single dot of my life joined. I was always told how bright I was but I rarely got higher than a C in high school. I was always in trouble despite trying my best. Just about every report said ‘talks too much’, ‘makes careless mistakes’ and ‘doesn’t perform to her ability’. 

 

Then I went right off the rails, drinking and smoking pot like no tomorrow from my late teens for years. I could never follow a recipe – and the clincher – extreme feelings of hurt when some massive crush didn’t pan out or I felt someone didn’t ‘approve’ of me…. which was not unusual. Not ‘growing up’ properly until my thirties, struggling with any problem that has multiple steps, leaving my phone on my car before driving off and dropping it multiple times throughout the day.  Meeting my neighbours multiple times and not being able to remember their names no matter how hard I tried. As I’m sure you can relate, it’s seriously embarrassing!

 

And the forgetfulness had gotten so insane with perimenopause that I was beginning to wonder if I had early onset dementia. Having lost my dad to Alzheimer’s recently, it was really scary.

 

Once diagnosed, some of my family members were very dubious… “But you’re fine, you’re just under the pump.” And I agreed. After years and years of things being really shit on and off, I did a truckload of work (therapy, meditation, reading, introspection etc) and because of this, eventually, for the most part, I was fine. 

But it is so fucking exhausting being me! 

 

Even now that my symptoms are pretty well managed, staying on top of everything requires every ounce of energy I can muster, all day every single day of the year, every single fucking year of my life… For the amount of effort that I was putting in, I should have been brilliant, not fine!

 

Despite good management, I still really struggle a lot with memory issues or anything that requires holding more than one piece of info in my mind at the same time. My mental load is huge – I parent my son who is autistic and has ADHD solo and I have a number of health issues (a common story with us) and one of these affects cognitive function as well. 

 

Add perimenopause to the list which also effects cognition and well, let’s just say that it isn’t always easy! 

 

But God I’m grateful for my diagnosis. It made me feel vindicated. Finally, I could see that I wasn’t hopeless. I wasn’t a spoiled privileged brat. My anxiety and depression (now, thankfully, a thing of the past!) were justifiable and my struggles were very, very real. But even years later the grief I feel can be so incredibly overwhelming. Grief, for periods of my life (and especially one extra special love) that were pretty much destroyed by out-of-control insecurities born of never measuring up.

 

Em’s beautifully vulnerable speech has been a great reminder that our journey is not easy. I cried and cried watching it. And while I’m so grateful that life is also in many ways amazing these days, despite these challenges, it’s been tough. And in many ways, it continues to be tough – in a way that only others with ADHD can possibly understand. 

I only hope that by more of us sharing our stories, it gets easier and easier for those who come after us.