Recklessness, impulsiveness, taking risks – yep, I tick every box for ADHD

You can now get a diagnosis for ADHD (Attention Deficit Hyperactivity Disorder), and many people are doing so. In Britain, ADHD diagnostics have increased by 11,000pc since 2013. It is now such a commonly diagnosed mental disorder that some are suspected of faking it to qualify for disability benefit. (In Ireland, the Disability Act recognises that ADHD can impair normal functioning, including attendance at work.)

I don’t feel I need to queue up for an ADHD diagnosis; I am fairly sure I have had this condition all my life. The symptoms are blatant: recklessness, impulsiveness, risk-taking, difficulty paying attention, lack of moderation, carelessness with money, losing things, unpunctuality – I’ve ticked every single box.

I’ve been fired from jobs for hyperactivity, expelled from choirs for “distracting behaviour” and some of my early impulsive behaviour was weird. Aged six, I pushed a small dog into the River Dodder just because it was standing on a wall and I felt the impulse to do so.

I might have died several times from youthful risky conduct – from swimming across a dangerous whirlpool for a dare to running across a high parapet just to show off. I cycled across Dublin – from Sandymount to Ballymun – alone, aged five. When I was 24, I cycled alone from London to Paris on a journalistic assignment, without a backward glance, or even bothering to get accident insurance. The risk was part of the thrill.

I was described as a “vile fidget” by a boyfriend (in my defence, I was being subjected to three hours of Wagner), and a “maddening presence” by a university tutor. “Giddy-goat”, “flibbertigibbet”, “butterfly-brain” were commonly applied. All par for the course.

Many people diagnosed in adulthood with ADHD regret that the condition wasn’t recognised decades ago, when they were youngsters. A medical diagnosis puts a name on conduct that otherwise seems puzzling or irrational, and a diagnosis can explain a lot, treatment and medication can follow.

For some ADHD sufferers, medication is the only relief they can get from the stream-of-consciousness tormenting thoughts, emotions, and irrational cravings. Having a diagnosis can explain aspects of odd behaviour: a child may have a neurological condition – they’re not necessarily deliberately being bold, or out of control.

Though I wouldn’t have wanted to be stuffed with the drug Ritalin – as some children have been following an ADHD diagnosis – I certainly wish I’d known about the attention-deficit condition many years ago. But I’d want it more as a guide to self-knowledge than as a form of medicalising eccentricities.

What happened was that, gradually, over the years, and with life’s course, the restlessness and recklessness began to abate. Some of the negative consequences of impulsive behaviour started to dawn on a more rational mind, like a drunk waking up with a terrible hangover.

I found I was able to concentrate and pay attention to something that interested me. And sometimes, in life, you have to “act a part”.

French philosopher Jean-Paul Sartre observed that when a waiter is serving at a table, he is doing his job, but he is also “acting the part” of a waiter; his non-waiter persona may be quite different. I learned to cover up the fidgeting and impatience, and to discipline the stream of distracting thoughts – to “act the part” of normality.

The ADHD behaviour receded – though a residue remains in chaotic aspects of everyday life, such as chronic untidiness and not filling the car’s petrol tank until the very last warning.

The modern world of multimedia quite suited me: the fast-moving, constant stream of distractions and stimulus are aligned with how my brain is wired. I can read a newspaper while listening to the radio and scrolling through social media, almost simultaneously.

I thought it inspiring when the environmentalist Greta Thunberg described her Asperger’s syndrome as her “superpower”. She had used her disability to focus on her campaigns (Asperger’s, contrary to ADHD, seems to allow enhanced concentration). Sometimes a disadvantage can be turned into a benefit.

Brendan Behan said that “every cripple has his own way of walking”. People adapt to and manage their situation. ADHD people often feel they don’t “fit in” with societal norms, but maybe that’s a way of looking at our place in society differently. You play the cards you’re dealt.

British health secretary Victoria Atkins has expressed concern that people may be “gaming the system” – benefits for disorders like ADHD are said to be costing over €335m annually. There will always be some individuals who fake it, yet the condition is real. And, actually, work can be a remedy for many psychological conditions. For me, working was always the best therapy, the most rewarding escape from the mad jumble of sensations going on in my head.