“Nina, did you not hear what I just said?” “Are you listening?” “Nina. It feels like you completely ignored me. Don’t you care about me or what I’m saying to you?” “Where is your assignment? It’s due today. I’m concerned you don’t care enough about your studies.”
Have you ever felt attacked by others who failed to understand what you are going through? Or perhaps ,more specifically, have you felt so misunderstood that you can’t even explain WHY and HOW they are misunderstanding you? Like, the words to explain yourself don’t come in anything other than a horribly mixed up word salad making everything worse?
Hi, my name is Nina, I’m a licensed therapist, and I have ADHD.
Here’s a little bit of what this experience is like for me. Factually speaking, having ADHD means that simply categorizing how my brain processes information. But in reality, it has implications for my relationships, my work, and my overall functioning.
This issue was the most highlighted for me in high school:
One night when I was in high school, I was in my room trying to write an essay for my Global Issues class. I found myself frustrated and overwhelmed. Writing not only was not one of my strong suits; in fact, writing felt as if I was climbing Mount Everest. It seemed IMPOSSIBLE. I sat at my desk and stared dauntingly at the computer screen waiting for my brain to generate words on the word document. I glanced at my clock and I was horrified to see that all of sudden: three hours had passed. I had not produced a single word on the page. I thought to myself, Maybe this is writers block. Why else is sitting down and focusing on this task is so hard for me. Is it about me being a bad writer? Could it be something else?
So I became more curious about myself. Turns out: turning on my observant mind paid off. I discovered something vastly important: It WASN’T just writing. I noticed a similar pattern within myself when it came to completing projects, assignments, and other challenging tasks over the years. I also struggled to pay attention in conversations with my loved ones, with my friends. My relationships paid the price for my inattention, too.
Though my hope was fading fast, there was a voice inside me that kept telling me to fight for an answer. This voice was louder than my internal voices of helplessness and failure. I wasn’t going to give up. I wasn’t going to listen to my inner critic telling me that I am a failure. I wasn’t backing down. I wanted answers.
The day finally came when my family took me to see a psychologist to be tested. After taking a massive comprehensive exam, the final verdict came in: I was diagnosed with Attention Deficit Hyperactivity Disorder.
ADHD.
There are 2 main features of ADHD are inattentiveness and hyperactivity. Some people have more inattention, some more hyperactivity, and if you’re lucky like me, you can have what’s called “combined presentation” where you have both inattention and hyperactivity.
Some of the symptoms I experienced that highlighted the inattentive feature of ADHD were: making careless mistakes, lacking attention to detail, difficulty sustaining attention, does not seem to listen when spoken to, fails to follow directions thoroughly, avoids mental tasks that require a higher level of thinking, and is easily distracted.
My hyperactivity symptoms felt like this: feelings of restlessness, talking excessively, often blurting out answers to questions, interrupting others in conversation, often feeling like I constantly had to be on the “go”, or having like an internal motor always “going”.
But, doesn’t everyone have a little ADHD in them?
What makes individuals with ADHD distinguishable? Sure everyone gets distracted here and there. Sure there are times where people forget their keys, wallet, etc., Sure we engage in procrastination when it comes to a school related activity once in a while.
But, these symptoms persisted with me. They were my EVERYDAY, not just a bad day, or a bad season. Not only for more than 6 months, but instead I experienced these symptoms as a part of who I was, how I lived my life.
Before my diagnosis, I was exhausted. I was tired of explaining myself to everyone. I was overwhelmed. I was experiencing severe distress, and I just didn’t know why. It felt like I was failing as a student, as a friend. Failing as a PERSON. The shame was real. I was starting to lose hope that I would ever be able to maintain friendships or finish tasks on time.
In my ADHD discovery journey, I made an important realization.
I was someone that suffered so greatly from being in a neuro-diverse brain, but perhaps MOST of my suffering wasn’t from having ADHD at all. Perhaps most of my suffering was that I was placed in a world made for neuro-typical brains. And my symptoms of shame, the never ending anxiety that I HAD MISSED SOMETHING IMPORTANT—these weren’t just ADHD. It was because I was trying so hard to be someone I was not. Trying so hard to have a different brain that I had. And THIS caused me distress, and much suffering in my daily functioning.
It wasn’t that I was “stuck” and “unable to produce work” or “not listening”, or worse that I “didn’t care.” It was more of an inability to structure, organize, and recall my thought process in a quick, efficient manner. I wasn’t just the girl who was “easily distracted.” , as so much school feedback from teachers told me.
My brain was just...different. It processed information differently.
But now I know. And as a therapist, I know too—there are so many people just like me. I wanted to help them feel understood, to have a place to share their shame of being and feeling “wrong”, to help them understand how to thrive in a world meant for “neuro-typical” brains.
Listen, I’m still figuring it out. But maybe my pain of discovery can lessen someone else’s. If my story sounds like you, or someone you know, my caseload is open and I’m taking new clients!
Hope to hear from you!
Warmly,
Nina