Trigger warning: This article contains sensitive information about mental health, which may be triggering for some readers. Please seek support if you are experiencing a mental health crisis. You are not alone.
It’s 7:00 in the morning and I’ve already bought concert tickets, showered, organized my calendar, drank a cup of tea, cleaned my living room, and put away the dishes drying on my kitchen counter. I’ve been up for 3 hours: frantic, shaky, emotionally distraught, and driven by an incessant urge to clean, organize, and plan. While I don’t start every morning this way, I do find myself submerged in waves of energy so intense that if I don’t move my body fast enough, I feel like I might explode.
I was recently diagnosed with ADHD.
I have been hyperactive my whole life and have never considered my behavior as anything more than a unique personality trait. Only when recent personal circumstances have limited me from channeling my energy into physical fitness have I realized exercise has been a coping mechanism to combat my persistent and disturbing jitters. I am a nervous wreck when my mind and body are not constantly stimulated, and not being able to release that natural energy through intense physical activity has caused me extreme anxiety, mood swings, depressive symptoms, and a dramatic change in my sleep and eating habits.
For months I have tried everything from therapy to podcasts to self-help books to understand my random bout of distress, and yet my emotions only seem to become more unpredictable and dramatic. I’m 13 again, melting down at the drop of a hat with little to no control or understanding of why I feel so much doom and despair when I normally define myself as a very optimistic and put-together person. Sitting alone with my mind has been incredibly testing.
Receiving an ADHD diagnosis has been quite the emotional revelation: I am simultaneously relieved to have an explanation for my symptoms while also feeling the weight of a new-found mental health condition hydraulic pressing my little head. I am scared to be on medication, both because of the stigma of being mentally ill as well as my personal fears of reliance, personality change, and a loss of love for my hobbies. I am ashamed, annoyed for not being able to “get my shit together,” and unprepared for how this diagnosis may impact my future. I also feel accepted and understood, compassionate towards and aware of my mind, and thankful to have tangible evidence that everyone who has hinted towards me having ADHD was correct. Learning about and taking care of my mind has been one of the most challenging experiences of my life. Yet, I can not emphasize enough how joyful I am for finally feeling like I am not alone in my “quirks.”
It’s not uncommon to define oneself as energetic, motivated, and productive, but my fixation of staying clinically organized, insanely active, and unbelievably busy has proven to be more than just a lust for life. Sometimes my anxious obsession with constantly remaining in motion is disruptive; this morning, I woke up after 4 hours of sleep feeling so over-caffeinated and overwhelmed by my to-do list that I couldn’t help but hop out of bed and clean in the dark because otherwise, I felt my heart would beat out of my chest. If it wasn’t for the Adderall I tearfully swallowed, I would probably still be desperately scrubbing every inch of my house instead of calmly expressing my emotions under my warm covers and wrapped in a bathrobe.
ADHD can present differently in many people. I personally experience mostly hyperactive and impulsive symptoms, while others may struggle more with inattentiveness. I do not know everything about ADHD — I am no mental health expert, nor have I even been diagnosed for more than a week — but this article was something I felt necessary to write in order to share my experience. This is no easy feat, and being vulnerable helps me better accept my mental state. I am unaware how my ADHD will impact me later today, in two weeks, or ten years from now, but all I can do is take a deep breath, buckle up, and try to enjoy the ride. You are not alone in your thoughts, and if you feel like your emotions are spiraling out of control, I highly recommend reaching out to a licensed mental health professional. There is no shame in asking for help.
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