I was diagnosed With ADHD when I was in my 30s
It’s 8.30am and the wheels have already fallen off. We should be en route, but we all overslept, and now I’m negotiating with two toddlers to vacate their beds, consume some toast and reassemble in the garage for delivery to respective pre-school and nanny.
I have less than three hours to complete a day’s work before first pick-up, including, of course, something due in 90 minutes. I bypass the chaos, skirt my way around the bomb-site of my office floor, and ascend the desk which now barely has room for my laptop (after the photo shoot I did yesterday afternoon for a new product launching in a month).
The photo shoot wasn’t urgent or even necessary, and of course now I’m behind on what I really needed to have completed, but I often find it very difficult to begin a task until the deadline is looming. I work well under pressure, so long as it’s something I’m interested in.
I have recently been diagnosed with ADHD, which comes as neither shock nor surprise to anybody who has ever met me.
In fact, it was people who had never met me who suggested that I was extremely likely to have it. I have shared (or overshared) my life on social media for more than seven years now, building a successful journal business off the back of a following of 30,000. I regularly talk about my business journey including the struggles I face, and over the past year I received a growing number of private messages from followers asking whether I had ADHD.
A few months ago their suspicions were confirmed. I have had ADHD my whole life, though perhaps amplified by becoming a mother three years ago. It is something that I believe hindered me throughout school, university, and my years employed as a lawyer, but is also due the credit for my entrepreneurial success.
ADHD is best known for hyperactivity, impulsion and distractibility, though a definition I resonate most with is that it is a unique brain wiring which requires engaged interest with a clear, purposeful intention (in order for an individual to pay attention).
Although it feels strange to receive a diagnosis of neuro-diversity at this age, when I have coped with symptoms for 32 years, I am in good company. It may appear to some as almost a ‘‘bandwagon’’ to jump on, with diagnoses of women later in life on the rise.
One in 20 New Zealanders has ADHD. For women it can manifest more as inattention rather than levels of hyperactivity, so ADHD symptoms can often be misdiagnosed as mood disorders or other conditions.
For me, consulting with a psychiatrist and being diagnosed with ADHD felt more
like an awakening; a realisation that there’s a justification for many of the things that I’ve struggled with, and an understanding of how it has contributed to my success, especially since becoming a mother.
The chaos of motherhood both amplifies my symptoms of ADHD – complete disorganisation, forgetfulness and terrible time-management (rather important when managing two little people) – while on the other hand, sharpening my ability to hyper-focus and complete a task I am interested in. My work allows me a much-needed escape from the relentlessness of mothering toddlers – and my ADHD gives me the stimulation I need to give it my undivided attention so long as I’m completely absorbed with the task at hand.
ADHD even explains why I am so utterly obsessed with recording important memories and milestones – the pillars on which my business, Forget Me Not Journals, is built. Though I have a really good short term memory, I am extremely forgetful over the longer term, and I don’t remember anything I haven’t written down – including even meeting my husband, or our first few years together. Shortly after our wedding, I designed a wedding planner book – so there was much less chance of forgetting anything. Of course, I didn’t realise at the time, but I was designing something to perfectly suit people with ADHD.
An ADHD brain is wired for interest, meaning we can have an incredible ‘‘hyper focus’’ on a task that piques our attention, but it is also associated with poorly processing information, leading to forgetfulness and problems with both long-term and working memory.
For some, working memory will affect an ability to follow instructions, or remember things to do – for instance, in daily life it impairs my ability to plan meals, write a grocery list or follow a recipe.
However, when it’s a task that I am interested in, I’m unstoppable. In June I completed a full-colour illustrated Baby Book, a task I began with a newborn daughter and son under 2, while we had no childcare due to lockdown and no family nearby. If it wasn’t for my ADHD, I’m certain I would never have started, nor achieved this.
Now that I know that I’ve had ADHD all these years, I feel a sense of vindication and achievement – I understand even why I couldn’t ‘‘stick it out’’ as a lawyer. I’ve been so hard on myself over the years and harboured a guilt at giving up my career after studying for so long and telling everybody my entire life I was going to be a lawyer, only to quit as soon as something ‘‘more interesting’’ came along: ‘‘hello shiny new hobby!’’
Since my diagnosis, I’m grateful that I’ve been able to direct my interest into something I’m really passionate about, and have somehow maintained the discipline to carry on in business. I can also identify what I struggle with and what is impossible to me.
The one thing I wish I’d known is that if you feel like you’re struggling, it may not be just the chaos of motherhood, or the relentlessness of juggling children, or running a business – it could be ADHD. If it is, you’re not alone. Sometimes just the acknowledgement of that label can help you find acceptance in the chaos.