In summer 2025, my mental health took a turn for the worse. Seemingly out of nowhere, my coping mechanisms were no longer working; I was experiencing never-ending heart palpitations, and life was impossible. After a myriad of physical health tests came back normal, doctors determined my physical symptoms were likely a side effect of underlying mental health problems. In fact, things were so serious that my health insurance decided to cover full psychological testing since it was clear something was wrong.
A few months later, I had a slew of diagnoses, all primarily driven by a single culprit: ADHD.
What is ADHD?
ADHD is the acronym for Attention-Deficit/Hyperactivity Disorder. Although typically associated with children, symptoms can persist into adulthood, with many adults (including myself) not receiving a diagnosis until adulthood. In the past, ADHD was separated into two kinds: ADHD and ADD (Attention Deficit Disorder). Nowadays, ADHD is the term used for ADHD, ADD, and the combination of both.
Hyperactive ADHD is likely what you think of when you imagine someone with ADHD. Signs and symptoms include restlessness, impulsivity, and disruptive behavior. This kind of ADHD is associated with high energy and is often easier to recognize.
For a long time, I assumed I didn’t have ADHD because I didn’t match the symptoms of hyperactive ADHD. Well, that’s because there’s also inattentive ADHD. Signs and symptoms of inattentive ADHD include forgetfulness, poor organization, and inability to focus long-term. Basically, I’m a textbook definition.
How does ADHD affect day-to-day life?
I can’t speak on the experience of those with hyperactive ADHD; however, I’m well acquainted with how inattentive ADHD affects me.
Everything feels impossible. It doesn’t matter the task (homework, cleaning, running errands, etc.) because it all feels the same. This feeling is known as executive dysfunction, or the disruption of one’s ability to manage their thoughts, actions, and emotions. It’s also a contributing factor to a variety of other problems, including intrusive daydreaming and the inability to focus on one task at a time.
Since I went so long without a diagnosis, I developed coping mechanisms and grew accustomed to bad habits that were just side effects of unregulated ADHD. In high school, my then psychiatrist identified my “OCD tendencies,” meaning I had some obsessive-compulsive disorder traits but not enough for a full diagnosis.
Following my ADHD diagnosis, I made the connection that my “tendencies” were just coping mechanisms, but my coping mechanisms had been exhausting me. An example I think of all the time is my old strategy to avoid forgetting homework. In middle and high school, I’d check my backpack at least twice the night before, twice in the morning before leaving the house, and usually a fifth time in the car.
I did this to ensure that I had everything I needed since my self-worth was deeply rooted in my school performance. Not checking gave me so much anxiety, because what if I had forgotten an essential part of a project or left my math homework on my desk? To this day, I sometimes still use this strategy.
Late Diagnosis Due to Gender Bias?
Despite acknowledging the good that has come from my diagnosis, I’m still coming to terms with how long it took for doctors to recognize my ADHD. Looking back on my childhood and these past few years in college, it seems so obvious that I had it. Why didn’t anyone notice?
Easy. ADHD presents differently in women. Women tend to have more internalized ADHD (inattentive) than men do. Like many fields of study, there exists a gender bias in mental health research, and because of my gender, I was at an immediate disadvantage.
Don’t get me wrong. I’m not blaming anyone in particular because it’s no one’s fault that I was so good at masking. However, it’s incredibly frustrating to recognize that untreated ADHD heavily impacted my emotional and personal development. Despite a diagnosis and medication, I’ll have to work hard to deconstruct ingrained personal habits and perspectives.
Life on The Other Side of Medication
I officially received a prescription for extended-release Adderall in early January, right before returning for the Spring semester. After taking the first dose on a weekend, I was shocked at how productive I had become.
Tasks that had previously kept me frozen in executive dysfunction no longer seemed nearly as daunting. For example, I deep-cleaned my childhood bedroom in under three hours. Contextually, it’s important to mention that I used to be so overwhelmed by cleaning that I’d usually sob before the hour mark when I was a kid and a teenager. My parents attributed this to laziness, but little did they know.
Upon returning for my last semester of college, I was excited to see how my academic performance would improve with medication. The results have been as expected. I feel motivated, less likely to procrastinate, and capable of completing everyday tasks like laundry and self-care.
Final Thoughts
I don’t think anyone’s mental health journey is ever truly over. I was originally diagnosed with anxiety when I was 13, prescribed an SSRI (selective serotonin reuptake inhibitor), and went on with my life. Somewhere deep down, I think I knew I wasn’t fully “fixed,” even with medication and weekly appointments with a therapist.
Mental health is tricky. Although society has made great strides in destigmatizing the conversation around mental health, we still have a long way to go. From personal experience, I know it’s hard, but advocating for yourself and finding a solution can be the distinguishing factor between just getting by and feeling as if you’re living life to the fullest.
My 13-year-old self would likely be embarrassed by her ADHD, considering it a weakness. However, almost a decade later, I’d much rather be diagnosed and medicated than fight myself every day for a life worth living.
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