Become Radically Divergent

(Originally posted in https://yushanchen.substack.com/p/becoming-radically-divergent)

Chaotic, forgetful, overthinking, reckless, emotionally explosive – these are just some things that I described myself (and how my parents saw me) back in the day.

Now I can proudly say that I am an organized chaos who is detail-oriented, courageous, and emotionally regulated with ups and downs that I see as a part of life.

I became radically divergent.

How?

To begin talking about how, I want to talk about why.

Because for a very long time, I had seen myself as a failure, intellectually incapable of doing better, and emotionally ineffectual in love and being loved. It is very hard for me to make excuses, which is a great trait that I gained from growing up in a traditional, disciplined, and humble family. But in this case, the virtue of admitting your mistakes has driven my mental image of myself that is guilty, shameful, and problematic.

I thought everything was my fault, even if I tried my hardest. I thought that the reason why I always fell in love with someone who hurt me emotionally was that I was not worth it, and I was always overthinking and overreacting, hence my relationships failed. I did this to myself.

And I lived with this kind of guilt (of not being enough in other people's eyes) and shame (of never making anything last and bringing shame to my family) for a long, long time.

Secretly, I suspected I had Attention Deficit Hyperactivity Disorder for a while in my thirties. I was even called “a hyper child” when I was very young, which was by definition ADHD, translating in Chinese, but it was a way for my parents to call me out on my inability to sit still, as a way of discipline. I even wrote about “Growing up with ADHD without even knowing I have ADHD” a few years ago – but soon that drive to discover more was diminished by not wanting to make more excuses for my (self-perceived) shortcomings.

Then, a few months ago, everything shifted.

I went to my doctor, rambling about my anxiety, bursts of energy, and the foggy crashes that followed. At one point I was even misdiagnosed with Bipolar II. In the middle of my runaway train of words, my doctor stopped me and said:

“I think you have ADHD.”

Hallelujah.

I was not actively seeking any diagnosis; I was looking for answers to my emotions. Then I went off track and started talking about my anxiety and compulsive thinking. But damn. How relieving. At this point in my life – after working sooooo hard to work on my self-esteem and my relationships with guilt and shame, which I actually wrote a book about – I was ready to accept the fact that my neurodivergence is not an excuse.

Even though long before this diagnosis, I had already been working on embracing the authentic me and accepting my perfect imperfection, the affirmation from my doctor got me riled up about how far I have come.

I realized, the radiance of energy that was masked over the years never left me; it just internalized as compulsively overanalyzing everything that is happening around me. As an empath who feels everything and anything, the emotional toll was overwhelming – and this is just one example of how invigorating it was to be validated.

A while ago I took the personality test with Myers-Briggs. INFJ-T: an advocate. Not only has being an advocate been in my blood – but being an introverted intuitive feelings judgment empath has finally made sense to me. It spoke to me so deeply because I knew that I was born in this world to make a difference. But I didn’t yet know how I was going to do so.

But now I know.

As soon as I got the diagnosis, I knew. Because for so long, we have been unheard. For so long, we have been abnormal. For so long, we have been told to cope – but it is time we speak up, and show the world that thriving with ADHD is a position beyond merit. Having ADHD is a strength, not a weakness, and becoming Radically Divergent is no longer a dream; it is a reality.

This space, is where I’ll share my stories of thriving with ADHD, the strategies I created (even before I knew I had ADHD), and the ways I’ve learned to prevail in a “neurotypical” world.

In life.

In work.

And in love.