Whoop, There It Is: I Just Got Diagnosed with ADHD

Birds do it, bees do it, even educated fleas do it; let’s do it; let’s all get screened for ADHD.

Greg Mania

Jul 13, 2023

This just in: I have attention-deficit/hyperactivity disorder!

Let’s go live on the scene to hear more:

“You just found out?” – All of my friends/literally anyone who has talked to me for more than five minutes.

“I don’t know what that is, but you probably have it,” – My mom.

“LMAO, DUH, BITCH,” – The walls in my apartment.

There you have it. Sixteen out of five psychiatrists agree: I have ADHD.

This diagnosis comes as a surprise to no one, myself included. If it wasn’t for more people sharing their stories—especially adults with ADHD—I would have never asked my psychiatrist to get screened, let alone come to the realization that my brain isn’t broken, it’s just wired differently, and how it operates isn’t unique to me at all. The thoughts, and how they are ordered (or not ordered) in my brain, and the behaviors I possess that I just thought were “me” things, are symptoms that I share with countless others, and the collection of these things have a name—and I’m not alone. Far from it.

But getting diagnosed took a long time, and I can’t help but think of all the other folks out there who continue to live with untreated ADHD, who, like me, think that that is just how they function, accepting the challenges and struggles that come with it as part of their norms, not realizing that there are a number of treatment options available to help them achieve a more sustainable day-to-day life. Right now, I can list at least five people in my life whom I think need to get screened yesterday. And chances are, you probably do, too.

So how do we, both as individuals and as a collective, approach having these conversations? And how can we continue having them in a way that promotes accessibility and understanding?

***

Let’s start by defining what ADHD is. According to the National Alliance on Mental Illness, ADHD is a condition “characterized by inattention, hyperactivity and impulsivity. ADHD is most commonly diagnosed in young people. An estimated 8.8% of children aged 4-17 have ADHD. While ADHD is usually diagnosed in childhood, it does not only affect children. An estimated 4.4% of adults aged 18-44 have ADHD.”

The American Psychiatric Association defines it as “one of the most common mental disorders affecting children. Symptoms of ADHD include inattention (not being able to keep focus), hyperactivity (excess movement that is not fitting to the setting) and impulsivity (hasty acts that occur in the moment without thought).”

Let’s throw one more in there from the American Psychological Association: “ADHD, or attention-deficit/hyperactivity disorder, is a behavioral condition that makes focusing on everyday requests and routines challenging.”

But here’s the thing: When I first started researching ADHD and came across these definitions, I still thought they didn’t apply to me. Did I have issues focusing? Sure. Was I prone to bursts of impulsivity? The eight speedos I’ve purchased from various Instagram ads in the middle of the night can confirm. Am I always doing something weird with my hands, even when it’s not appropriate? Yes, don’t you????

It wasn’t until I stumbled upon a community of folks with ADHD on TikTok that I realized how misunderstood and nuanced this order actually was.

The deeper I went down the rabbit hole of people sharing their stories living with ADHD, the more boxes I checked: task paralysis, time blindness, struggling with emotional regulation, ruled by routine, and the overlapping of thoughts stood out to me immediately. But the most illuminating, for me, was learning about how often ADHD co-exists with anxiety and depression (and vice versa), and how frequently one or the other is missed when, in reality, it’s all three.

At long last, I can finally tell people I’m a triple-threat!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

I kept digging. I wanted to see how pervasive this disorder was in my daily life. I listened to people tell their stories about how ADHD affects not just their personal lives, but work, dating, and how they navigate social settings and found myself relating more times than not. I listened to a woman describe her eating habits, how she would compulsively eat the same meal over and over for an extended period of time until she got sick of it while I plowed the same chicken wrap I’ve been getting every day for the past two weeks from the corner deli into my mouth. I watched a POV video that simulates an ADHD mind by layering a bunch of different audios on top of each other to mimic the cacophony of concurrent racing thoughts, like needing to email that person and wondering what Jennifer Garner is up to these days and having the word “ouroboros” stuck in your head, in addition to ten or more other thoughts deploying all at once. I watched a two-part video a woman made for folks with ADHD to send to their partners, to help the latter understand the former better. Rejection sensitive dysphoria? Is that why I feel rejected and want to walk into traffic if they haven’t put their hand on my knee or stroked my back in over an hour??????? And here I am thinking I’m just excessively needy/clinically insane—both of which are probably true, too. I contain multitudes!!!!!!

I felt like I had heard everything I needed to hear to confirm my diagnosis, but I knew that, even though all signs pointed to ADHD, it was not something I could self-diagnose. I would have to go to a mental health professional for that. And I encourage everyone to do the same, especially when it comes to mental health.

***

After talking to my psychiatrist, I scheduled a screening for the following week. While there isn’t a singular test that is used to tell if an individual has ADHD, there are a few approaches that are employed, like physical examinations, extensive questionnaires, behavioral testing, and audiovisual screening. I took the Test of Variables of Attention (T.O.V.A), which is an audiovisual assessment that is split into two self-explanatory parts.

Let me tell you something: I am an out and proud idiot. A few months ago, I was staying at a swanky hotel in Seattle and called the front desk no fewer than eighteen times to ask how to use the thermostat that I thought only a NASA engineer could operate. Instruction manuals send me into a disarray, even if there are only two steps. I will push a pull door for approximately forty-five seconds longer than it takes for the average dunce to correctly open the door. But nothing has made me feel dumber than this assessment.

On the day of my screening, I met a technician who explained the rules to me, which immediately made me start sweating because verbal instructions don’t even go in one ear and out the other for me; they paraglide over my head directly into a volcano. For the audio part, I was told I was going to hear two separate tones, and to press the space bar every time I heard one, and to not press it when I heard another—I don’t even remember the exact instructions because I was already pressing and not pressing the space bar arbitrarily twenty seconds into the test. When it came time to the visual component, I was told to press the space bar for every letter of the alphabet that flashed across my monitor except for X. Reader, I can’t tell you how many fucking X’s I pressed the space bar on, immediately shouting “FUCK” for each, causing the technician, who was nearby, to peer over her glasses like a librarian shooting a noisy patron a dirty look. THAT SHIT WAS STRESSFUL. They should give you a lunch stipend upon completion!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

***

Two days later I met with my psychiatrist to go over the results. I waited for him to open the file on his computer and watched his eyes widen as he looked them over before failing to suppress a stunned, “Whoa.”

Enough said, bb.

After discussing treatment options, we settled on a combination of talk therapy (which my therapist and I have already begun working on) and medication. He prescribed Vyvanse, which is a timed-release stimulant that I take once a day in the morning, but was told that I didn’t need to take it every day; I could take it Monday through Friday, or Monday, Wednesday, Friday, or another combination of days depending on my workload throughout the week. I liked the idea of taking something more forgiving of an as-needed basis so I could limit the daily medication I already take (which is a lot, I could lay a gravel path to your front door with them) for my anxiety, depression, and fibromyalgia.

I’ve been using Vyvanse for about a week now, and let me tell you: It is a game-changer. I was hesitant at first, worried that it was going to feel like I had just simultaneously shotgunned a cold brew while connected to a Red Bull IV drip. I needed energy, but not enough to render me into a blur, running from one room to the next, deep-cleaning my apartment and my neighbor’s before transcribing four decades’ worth of archival footage in the basement of the New York Public Library without interruption for twelve hours straight.

But that was not the case.

It’s hard to describe unless you’ve been on it, but it’s almost as though you feel nothing at all; it’s subtle, but effective. It’s not until you’re going about your day as you normally would that you’re able to discern the changes that may seem minor, but make a world of difference. I’ll have written for a few hours and realized I haven’t taken twenty breaks, each respective break launching me into completing various minor tasks, like unloading the dishwasher, scrubbing the toilet, or repotting a plant—anything that wasn’t the thing I should have been working on all along. My thoughts, while still active and loud, don’t overlap as much, and, as a result, I’m less stressed throughout the day and less susceptible to a breakdown over the smallest of things.

While these changes may seem minor to some, they are life-changing to others.

I am by no means “cured.” Therapy and medication are merely tools to help me regulate my ADHD, so that I can live a more-effective day-to-day life without my untreated ADHD interfering with the things that impede my health and happiness. I’m grateful that I made the decision to talk to my therapist and psychiatrist, setting aside the trepidation of adding yet another diagnosis to my current treasure trove of chronic conditions, and realizing that by treating my ADHD, I may also be treating the parts of my anxiety and depression that the other medications I take don’t.

Of course, I am far from being immune to the challenges that daily life poses for someone living with chronic illness and pain. It takes a lot of work for me to function at a livable capacity, but while there are some things that remain out of my control, like the disorders I’ve been diagnosed with, I can control what I do about them, and for me that means finding ways to live with them. I may never achieve long-lasting equilibrium between my mind and my body—name one person who has!—but it’s not really about trying to accomplish what’s impossible to accomplish, is it? I’m more interested in the moments in between. I’d rather chase those pockets of joy—where you’re grateful to be alive and limits dissolve into open air, ripe for flight—than perfection.

So, get screened, bitch. You can still soar.

SOS (Save Our Serotonin)

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