Well hello there, thanks for stopping by.
Welcome to issue two of ADHD & Me, an as yet ill-defined newsletter that will likely include musings about late diagnosed ADHD, interesting things I’ve learnt about ADHD and a bunch of other marginally relevant stuff I’ve encountered. Oh, and memes. Definitely memes.
For example, apparently ADHDers are more likely to suffer from recurrent ear infections. I mean wtaf? But yeah, that explains a bunch of my childhood. And sorry but, no, I don’t remember which ADHD research hole I found that little tidbit in. Soz!
Let’s get on with it, shall we.
Part 1: Personal musings
And then came the grief
In my first issue I mused on the initial ‘hit’ of relief and self acceptance that came with my ADHD diagnosis. Glorious as it was, dears reader, it wasn’t permanent.
The grief snuck up on me, almost silently. Stealth-like and lurking in the shadows where, for a while, it was easy to ignore. That is, until it wasn't.
Grief is hard to put into words really isn’t it? For me it’s more of a sensation. Like wading through tar. Or being stuck inside a glass box. I can see the world clearly but I can’t quite reach it. Sounds, tastes, interactions are stifled, muted by the invisible layer between us that nobody else realises is there. Grief is a lonely place.
It’s tempting to try to figure out my grief. To dissect it and analyse it. To talk about the psychology of getting to grips with a new identity and mourning the loss of an old one. To muse about the life-long impact of molding oneself into neuronormative boxes and systems that were never set up to accept you as you are.
That’s all valid, and lord knows I have thoughts and opinions on these matters. But sometimes thoughts and opinions are a defense mechanisms. Because feeling the thing...Well it kind of sucks. And yet, if there’s one thing I’ve learnt in the course of training as a therapist, it’s that feeling a feeling can’t kill you. In fact, it’s usually avoiding the feeling that can be dangerous.
Alas, I can feel a digression coming on. You can read more about my musings on the paradox of feeling ‘bad’ to feel ‘good’ here.
What I really want to say is that staying with the grief is important.
I’m minded here of butterflies (which, incidentally, I’m terrified of but let’s not go there, eh). We’re taught that caterpillars are hungry little blighters who have a happy life munching their way through pears, plums and, bizarrely - a pickle, before turning into a chrysalis and having a lovely nap only to finally emerge as a (supposedly) resplendent and beautiful thing - the butterfly. But nobody ever tells us that during metamorphosis, the caterpillar dies. That inside a chrysalis it disintegrates, breaks down, becomes a disgusting pile of mushy goo.
That all sounds rather morbid doesn’t it? And that’s my point really. As a species we don’t really like to look at the mush. We turn away from it. Run. Hide. And yet there’s beauty, joy even, to be found there. In those moments of darkness. The beauty of metamorphosis.
More often than not, we have to break down in order to break through.
To be clear, I’m not suggesting that, as we process the complex emotions that come with an adult ADHD diagnosis (or indeed a self diagnosis which is equally valid), we need to eat pickles or become a pile of goo (unless you want to, of course). But It’s a vulnerable time and it’s ok to acknowledge, and honour, that.
It has to be said, though, for all my preaching about feeling the thing, I’m a hypocrite! I’m pretty well practiced at avoiding my feelings. Because my feelings are BIG. And I’ve been shamed for that over my lifetime. The old refrain of ‘you’re too sensitive’ will be forever etched in my neural pathways.
But I’m more in tune now. I felt the grief lurking and I made a choice to be with it for a while. For me, this meant consciously making little pockets of time to cry.
It wasn’t easy though, because despite the fact that, over the years, most of my family, friends and even colleagues have seen me cry, they may be surprised to know that the tears don’t come easily when I'm alone. It’s their presence, as mirrors, that force me to confront what I feel.
But, for me, grief is a solitary thing. So I found a happy medium and enlisted the help of one of my favourite meditation teachers, Jack Kornfield. His guided grief meditation (because unguided meditation and ADHD = oh helllll no) is only 5 minutes long but it never fails to help me access the tears in waiting.
When after heavy rain the storm clouds disperse, is it not that they’ve wept themselves clear to the end? —Ghalib
Dancing helped me too. Because us ADHDers tend to have sensitive nervous systems. Our bodies hold a lot. So I chucked on the new Bjork song, cranked it up to 11 and let the bass access and unleash the deep wells of grief that weren’t to be found with intellect. It’s a practice that my dear sister has poetically dubbed ‘shaking out the jibblies’. Could there be anything more gloriously ADHD?
Crying and shaking out the jibblies happen to work for me but you may find talking with someone who understands helpful instead. Or exercise. Or art. Or time in nature. Or playing computer games. Or tarot. Or…whatever. What’s important is to know that grieving is ok, and to find a way to grieve that feels right for you.
Grief resources
The Body keeps the Score: Not ADHD specific but a seminal exploration of the connection between brain, mind and body in the healing of complex trauma. A must read if you’re seeking intellectual understanding but approach with care if you have a sensitive nervous system.
Tips on journaling your way through grief: Practical guidance on scribing your way through your sorrows.
Part 2: Things I’ve learnt about ADHD
Hormones fuck everything up. But there is hope
While we’re talking about the sads, it makes sense to segue into hormones. Because boy can those wily critters play havoc with one’s emotions. And it turns out they can impact your ADHD symptoms too.
This article in ADDitude mag describes the impact of fluctuating hormones on ADHD symptoms, over the course of adolescence, our ‘reproductive years’, around the time of childbirth, and as perimenopause creeps up on us/menopause sets in.
Without an awareness of the ADHD at play, there’s a very real danger of women being misdiagnosed at each of these stages. And even those with a diagnosis may not understand the impact of hormones on their meds, which can become less effective in the run up to the period.
As Patricia Quinn, author of Understanding Women with ADHD, says:
“The average age of diagnosis for women with ADHD, who weren’t diagnosed as children, is 36 to 38 years old. Before that time, girls and women are often misdiagnosed as having a mood disorder or an anxiety disorder. Even if these are secondary conditions, treating them does not get to the root of the problem, which is ADHD.”
I’m struggling to focus on the issue at hand here because a part of my brain is having a rant about the patriarchy and ‘hysterical’ women. But I don’t have the spoons. Suffice to say that hormones have a very real impact (whether we have ADHD or not) and it’s super important that we understand that impact so that we can support women (again, with ADHD or not) as they navigate these changes forced upon them by mother nature. (I love you mother nature, but jeez, you’re a real twat sometimes).
Eugh.
There’s so much to say on this topic but I’ll stick to what I know in the hope that it resonates or helps some of you.
About 10 years ago I hadn’t been diagnosed with ADHD (but I had been diagnosed with depression and no, the treatment didn’t work), I decided to stop taking the pill. I’d got the message, loud and clear, that I was ‘just’ another hysterical, over-sensitive woman and my hormones were probably making me crazy (sorry younger me). I somehow surmised that taking the pill could make that worse. Like adding another thing to my already overwhelmed body and nervous system couldn’t possibly help. I didn’t notice a possible relationship between my stopping the pill and life feeling more difficult in the coming years.
Then, a few years back, I started tracking my periods and I started to notice just how bad my PMS was. I wondered if it was because I was getting older. Maybe it was early perimenopause? Or maybe it had always been that way but I just hadn’t noticed.
Either way, I started to see how my cycle was impacting my day-to-day. Like clockwork I’d have two good weeks, followed by a fortnight (a fucking fortnight every month!!) of being weepy, anxious, super sensitive and just generally struggling to be the kick-ass boss bitch who reigned supreme just a short time before.
I guess it’s confusing because you don’t need to have ADHD to suffer at the hands of a menstrual cycle. And yet it’s a compounding factor. Louder ADHD symptoms can be added to the pot of shit that’s already hard at certain times of the month. And it’s a serious issue. Because for someone who’s already really struggling, these fluctuations can tip them over the edge of being able to cope.
Still, no professional mentioned any of this to me. I had to take matters into my own hands.
For me, that meant discovering that taking the contraceptive pill can help regulate the hormonal fluctuations that can worsen PMT and/or ADHD symptoms. So for a decade my stubborn refusal to take the pill could’ve done me a huge disservice. If only I’d known sooner, what a difference it could have made (Late diagnosed - ADHD mantra, anyone?).
Hormones are weird, and so are humans. There’s no one size fits all. Some women find that increasing the dose of their ADHD meds just before their period helps. Others take an antidepressant or anti-anxiety med. And some find that diet and exercise are enough. What’s important is that we understand the interaction between our hormones and our symptoms and are supported to manage them in a way that feels right for our individual needs.
Resources
Clue: An app to track your periods, ovulation and PMS symptoms so you can spot patterns.
Why ADHD Is Different for Women: Gender-Specific Symptoms & Treatments: Podcast from ADDitude
Part 3: Interesting things I’ve discovered
Dopamine farts are a thing?!
I kinda cheated for this segment this week. When I heard there’s a correlation between ear infections and ADHD I was curious about whatever weird shit may have a relationship with this particular neurodivergence. And given there’s such a colossal gap in research and a ton of misinformation based on outdated notions on the interweb, I did what any sensible nerd would do and asked the good people of Reddit.
More than 1000 comments later and I’ve discovered some truly weird (anecdotal) ADHD things, not limited to:
The ADHD walk
A strange ability to spot bugs
Coffee makes some of us sleepy
An ADHD intolerance of sticky hands
A link between dopamine and farting
And many, many others. Scientific it ain’t but gloriously validating it is. Take a look here.
Annnnd, that’s all, folks! If you enjoyed reading the ADHD & Me newsletter then please consider sharing it. And if there’s something you’d like me to talk about or explore then drop me a line at adhdandme@substack.com.
Until next time, folks. Keep it (neuro)spicy!
Love,
Jess x