Sometimes, when I leave for work in the morning, I feel a sense of unease. I’ll double-check the lock, three times if need be. I’ll check my bag for a laptop charger, which I know is already packed. Have I missed a bin day? Have I turned off the lights? Have I taken my medication? Answering these questions offers some reassurance, but never for long. We have all experienced days like this. Usually, at some point in the day, the root of the strain presents itself: a misplaced letter, an uncharged phone, or a forgotten wallet. Your examples might be different, but you will undoubtedly be able to relate to the sensation:
“I’ve missed something”.
This sensation occupied a significant part of my childhood. Adults didn’t seem to realise how much I struggled. As a child, the only way you can rationalise this is to think that you’re just not capable of doing what everyone else is doing. Teachers constantly told me that I could do the work if only I applied myself, but I didn’t know how. Life would be okay if I could figure out how to commit myself and be productive; an unhealthy thought for a child.
When you have undiagnosed learning differences, so much energy goes into masking that you barely have anything left. I was told that my behaviours, like fidgeting and poor eye contact, were inappropriate. I was told my forgetfulness was due to laziness, and my work ethic was poor.
In my first year of university, I was diagnosed with dyslexia and educational dyspraxia. However, I failed my second year and decided to leave, thinking that space from higher education would solve my problems. Even as I was travelling home from Aberdeen, I thought to myself:
“I’ve missed something.”
Eventually, I came to terms with the fact that there was a difference in the way I learn, behave, and interact with others. On my return to Aberdeen, I decided to get assessed and was formally diagnosed with ADHD. This diagnosis has completely changed the way I view myself. I know some people don’t think labels are helpful, but for me, it has allowed me to make sense of my past and current experiences in an invaluable way. I’ve been able to reflect on my educational journey through a new lens and contextualise so many aspects of my lived experience. The feelings of forgetfulness and frustration that I felt in school make sense. I’m able to navigate life in a better way because I know that certain behaviours, such as stimming, aren’t something I have to feel bad about or punish myself for. The mask has truly come off.
I do think that being diagnosed later in life can come with a kind of grieving process. You’re glad that you don’t have to mask anymore, and you finally have the support you need, but you look back and feel sad for the wee boy who was struggling so hard, and you wish that he hadn’t needed to go through all that. I've spoken to other people who have received a late diagnosis, and many share similar feelings. I think it’s important to realise how complex it can be to recontextualise your whole life. I am grateful that I received the diagnosis, as it helped me immeasurably and allowed me to access the support I needed to finish university. Still, it's hard not to wonder if things would have been easier had I gotten diagnosed sooner.
Overall, being diagnosed with ADHD changed my life for the better. The mask of uncertainty came off, and I was able to rebuild my self-worth. It’s an ongoing journey - one that I'm still mapping out.
