what it feels like to be a woman with ADHD

Attention-deficit/hyperactivity disorder (ADHD) begins in childhood, which is when a lot of individuals are diagnosed. However, the number of adults being diagnosed with ADHD is growing — in particular women that seemed to slip through the cracks earlier in their lives due to an atypical presentation of the disease.

I did have bad behaviour in the classroom and generally, I didn’t do well in school growing up. But what most people didn’t know is that I secretly struggled to stay afloat both academically and personally. I was so ashamed, so convinced my symptoms were some personal defects that needed changing, that I buried them deep and did what I could to cope with it. This is something that followed me into adulthood. By the time I was in my early 20s, my life was a mess, much like the chaos inside my head. My methods of coping got me through the first part of my life, but it wasn’t working so well anymore.

A lot of people wonder what ADHD feels like. After all, many think they have it, or claim to, even if in a joking manner, but those who actually struggle with it know how severe some of the symptoms can be. personally, It isn’t just a lack of concentration and not being able to do multiple things at once. It infects looks different in everyone, as everyone is their own individual person. And This is what it looks like in me.

– It is zooming in on a topic to the point that you lose yourself, lose time, lose relationships, because you are consumed by an idea, a project, a book, a television show.

– It is me, feeling like everyone knows things I don’t because I miss out on parts of conversations, on lessons and lectures, on life because I’m constantly fighting to catch up.

– It is me overextending myself to try to be like everyone else.

– It is feeling as though someone is pressing their hands against my ears, blocking out parts of what others say. I have to strain to grasp every word.

– It is reading, only not really, because I start to skim and skip over parts due to an inability to pay attention to each word; that, and a burning impatience that wants me to reach the end immediately.

– It is going to the movies, and then not knowing what your friends are talking about when they mention certain parts of it. It is feeling left out.

– It is a hard battle to stay organised, to find your belongings, to keep track of them. It is getting locked out of your house because you forgot your keys.

– It is trying to listen, only feeling like the words bounce off of you instead of processing through your mind. It is thoughts, racing so fast you can’t capture them. You only see fragments, and sometimes they don’t make sense.

– It is having random outbursts of anger and impulsiveness and not thinking, then only realising after what I’ve done.

– It is trying to write, to finish something, only to abandon everything halfway through because you’ve lost interest or focus. It is being unable to explain to others it was not your desire to do so, but rather your brain refusing to cooperate.

– It is feeling shame when they tell you to try harder, to grow up, to accomplish something with your life.

– It is wanting desperately to manage your disease, but being hindered by the same illness you are trying to treat because you are forgetful, scattered and disorganised.

– It is seeing the world in pieces and trying to do your best to assemble the puzzle. I didn’t get here overnight. It won’t all be better tomorrow. It’s a journey, one I am discovering each day. One I am not ashamed of, because I did not choose this life, but nothing is going to stop me from living it.