This post has nothing really to do with art, except it does indirectly, because it highlights why I work so sporadically.
In August 2021 I was diagnosed with ADHD. How I got to find out in my mid-50s that I’d been struggling with the condition my entire life is another very long and possibly boring story to most. And as one of my abiding ADHD traits is info dumping I’ll instead read the room and assume you’re not too interested. HOWEVER, if you think you may too have undiagnosed ADHD and are piqued by this post, I’m happy to answer your questions.
So this is more to do with how the diagnosis has impacted my life, both in good and bad ways.
For the first few months I was cycling through various states of denial, grief, self-gaslighting, overwhelm and anger. The moments when I felt I was regulated enough to attempt to tackle the situation were sparse and unpredictable. After decades of masking, mirroring, people pleasing and emotional dysregulation I wasn’t even sure if I knew the real me at all. And getting medicated for adult ADHD in France is difficult, whilst having ADHD means that for me personally, taking the necessary and complex steps to get them is impossible. Voilà. I sort of pushed it down and did what I had done all my life: just carried on regardless, trying to fit my funny brain in with a neurotypical world and struggle with doing that.
But about a year ago something shifted. This is largely due to my current personal situation. After being part of a couple for decades, I began living on my own. (Which in some way explains why I’ve decided to use my birth name Evans from now on). This life change meant I needed to get a regular part time job to support my erratic income. So I have more structure to my weekdays and finances and this was really helpful.
It was also a year ago Bang the hot mess of a hound came into my life. I had no intention whatsoever to take on a traumatised dog as I had enough trouble in my life thank you, but here we are. He needed me to show up, be in control and consistent. But I think I’ll save his story too for another time as it’s a long one.
These big changes to my lifestyle meant I had more responsibility, more challenges I had never faced before and seemingly far less time. On one hand, I became capable of so much more than I ever thought I was.
But on the other hand my struggle with ADHD flared like a motherfu**ker. My symptoms were at an all time high and my executive functioning at an all time low. I also had a spike in sensory and emotional processing problems making everything feel waaaaaay too much. Internal hyperactivity was literally driving me to distraction by disrupting my sleep, mood stability and focus. I could no longer carry on regardless and sweep my neurodivergence under the rug.
I decided on 2 (actually 3) things.
First, get some self compassion girl! It’s ok if I’m not making much art right now. It’s ok if I’m making lots of mistakes and it’s ok if lots of things are slipping away. If I need to shutdown or if my brain fog is a pea souper. As long as I’m doing my best for my loved ones, my animals, keeping myself fed and showered, and showing up for my responsibilities every day then that’s all I need to be doing.
Second, I researched in an extremely ADHD way everything I could. I’m an avid reader of fiction but I’m not great with self helpy kind of books and prefer podcasts or YouTube for this kind of research. It’s not a one and done thing, I’m still learning constantly. So to that end I got a dedicated notebook which I call my Who Am I Really? book. That was the first question I asked it, and slowly I began to understand what is going on when I take off the mask, stop copying neurotypical behaviour, ask some deep questions of myself and ultimately become my own bestie. It’s not an easy process and tears are frequent but so are a-ha moments of clarity. Because at the end of the day all the answers are buried deeply inside me. I just have to excavate my life which is at times incredibly painful but also so helpful. States of denial, self-gaslighting and being critical are definitely becoming less, and I’ve had to confront my reality with compassion and acceptance.
And the third part is to create my own bespoke support plan. Making accommodations that will help me in practical, mental and financial ways, meet my emotional needs, take supplements and other things to help my symptoms. Have a basic care plan for the really hard days. Daily movement to get the dopamine hit and eliminating the harmful ways I used to get it. And finally I found a neurodivergence informed therapist. I’ve been through many therapists over the years, including the ADHD specialist who diagnosed me, and none of them have been the right fit. Finding this one has been amazing and after almost giving up on therapy she has helped me so much.
It’s important to say I’m not ‘fixed’ and that’s because it’s also important to know (I’m reminding myself of this fact) that I’m not actually broken. As Caren Magill says the world doesn’t bend for a neurodivergent brain so we have to bend the world to fit us. It’s not easy and it’s never going to be complete. But with my trusty purple notebook and cactus pen (because stationery is one of my special interests) I’m getting a better picture of who I really am and feeling quite positive about how I’m going to navigate this next phase of life.
