On caring for my ADHD instead of fighting it
A lot of you probably know that I have ADHD. I talk about it fairly often.
I didn't get diagnosed until somewhat recently, because, as is the story for a lot of women with ADHD, my symptoms as a little girl were different than the ones that were typically recognized, AKA the ones that young boys tend to exhibit more often. I was incredibly messy: my desks, lockers, backpacks, and bedroom tended to be absolute chaos. I lost things like homework and winter gloves a lot. I was constantly spacing out and daydreaming. I was generally kind of weird and bad at conversations.
But I wasn't disruptive or hyperactive, and I got good grades despite my problems with remembering to do homework, so my symptoms weren't seen as symptoms. They were flaws. I didn't need help, I just needed to try to be better.
Thankfully our understanding of ADHD has improved since the 90s and 00s, and I started seeing people talking more openly about what having ADHD is like and posting articles about ADHD being underdiagnosed in women and girls. And something started to click, that maybe there was something more to my trouble holding down a day job, my inability to keep the apartment clean, and my overall failure at self-motivation that I had been thinking of as "laziness" for basically my entire life.
I got my diagnosis 3 years ago and was so excited. Finally, I could fix my brain! I just needed the right prescription! But unfortunately it wasn't that easy.
Important note: I am not anti-medication. In fact I am incredibly pro-medication. A lot of people with ADHD see huge, life-changing improvements after finding the right meds. I think they should be easily accessible for anyone who needs them. It's just that unfortunately, I did not have a good experience with them.
The most common medications prescribed for ADHD are stimulants, so that's what I started off trying. I did trial runs of Adderall, Vyvanse, and Dexedrine, adjusting dosages as needed. These were honestly all great for my productivity! I was able to focus on work more easily, even boring admin stuff! I generally had a lot more energy, so I wasn't getting stuck in what I like to call "couch phone scroll hell" (that's where you're sitting on the couch scrolling on your phone and you're not having a good time and your brain is screaming oh my god get up, please go do literally anything else, it's been 3 hours, why are you still sitting here) anymore! If I needed to do multiple things, I just figured out what order I should do them in and did them! I was so much better about reaching out to friends! My apartment was so clean!
I was also falling apart. I had some of the worst anxiety of my life when I was taking stimulants. One time I had such a bad panic attack that I called 911 thinking I was dying. The extended release tablets are only supposed to last 10-12 hours, and yet I was up until 4:00 or 5:00 AM every night, so I was generally running on 3-4 hours of sleep. When we decreased my dosage, the side effects stopped, but so did the good effects. So we decided to change course.
Along came Wellbutrin. Honestly, Wellbutrin was great for awhile. I was able to get things done and generally felt less brain-foggy, but I didn't have all that weird nervous energy that came with stimulants. I just generally felt normal, which was nice. But then something started to sneak up.
This is a rare side effect, but there have been reports of it. And it's like, of COURSE I would get this particular rare side effect given my career in audio. Of course it had to work out that way. A high pitched ringing in my ears, that came up so gradually that I couldn't even tell you when exactly it started, but I started having real problems mixing my music. Yeah. Wellbutrin gave me tinnitus.
So of course as soon as I noticed that, I immediately stopped the Wellbutrin (well, I weaned off with strict instructions from my doctor. Don't quit NDRIs cold turkey, y'all). Thankfully the tinnitus went away once I was weaned off, but at that point I was so tired. I decided I was done taking medication. Despite knowing there were other potential options, having to deal with more side effects didn't feel worth it. This was about 2 and a half years ago, and I haven't tried meds again since. I don't regret it at all. I'm not opposed to maybe trying again someday in the future if I feel like I need it, but I'm currently doing very well unmedicated.
What ended up helping was therapy, especially my current therapist who I started seeing a year ago. I'll use a fake name for them. Let's call them Casey. One of their specialties is ADHD, and they actually have ADHD themselves, and oh my god, having a therapist who actually understands what it's like has been as life-changing for me as medication is for some people.
Casey has helped me so much in understanding why my brain does the weird things it does. I feel like I now have a good grasp of how ADHD combines with my anxiety disorder and trauma in really unfun and unhelpful ways (we sometimes call it "the trifecta"). And they've completely rewired the way I think about myself and my ADHD.
I've always seen my ADHD symptoms (or what younger me just thought of as "flaws") as something to overcome, something to fight back against, to beat into submission. But, as Casey gently pointed out, wouldn't it be better to be kind to myself? To figure out what my brain is struggling with and try to figure out ways to give it what it needs?
Like, why does it matter if I spend a day switching every 15 minutes between scoring a film, reading random articles, texting my friends, and drawing random tarot cards? As long as I meet my deadlines (which I always do), who cares? I'll get less work done if I try to force myself to grind through work when I'm not feeling it. And usually about once a week I end up hyperfocusing and finishing about 3 days' worth of work in 5 hours, which honestly rules.
Beyond that, does it matter that I need to constantly switch up what kind of workouts I'm doing to keep things interesting, as long as I'm still getting some exercise in? I really don't think it does! Why do I need to clean my entire bathroom at once instead of cleaning the toilet one day, then the counters the next, then the shower the next? Who cares if I can't do the thing where I meal prep and then eat the same exact healthy lunch every day all week? Who! Cares!
Getting bored easily, needing novelty, it's not a character flaw. It's just a different way of being. I've been a lot happier since I've learned little ways to give my ADHD brain the variety and excitement it craves.
Another major thing has been realizing my brain kind of short circuits when I am given a task or list of tasks that requires a lot of steps. I think that's the main reason I get stuck in couch phone scroll hell. So Casey has taught me how to break things down into tiny steps.
Oh, I need to go make an invoice and send it to a client, but I'm stuck on the couch scrolling my phone? And also I'm thirsty? Okay, can I decide what order I should do things in? The kitchen is on the way to my office, so I'll get water first.
Okay. Can I uncross my legs? That doesn't seem too bad, I can handle that. Now that that's done, can I close the Reddit app? Sure, done. Can I grab my water cup from the table? Yes. Can I stand up? Can I walk to the kitchen and fill the cup with water? Can I then walk to my office? Can I wake up my computer? Can I open my invoice template in Word? Usually by this point I'm not having to think about steps anymore and am just doing what I need to do. It's usually just those first few small steps that are hard, but once I have some momentum going, it's fine.
I've learned not to get annoyed that I have to make little accommodations for my weird brain. Everyone has quirks they need to work around! It's fine! Plus I think ADHD has also had a lot of positive impacts on my life along with the negative. Like sure, I've never been able to hold down a "normal" day job for very long, but I think that's the reason I never gave up on a composing career. I also can't fully explain this, but I think ADHD is responsible for my sense of humor. I don't know why. My social media shitposts just feel like they come from the same part of me that hates eating the same snack more than 2 days in a row.
It's been a long road, but I mostly like myself now. And that involves also liking the more difficult parts of my brain. Instead of hating them or trying to force them to change, it turns out that it's better to treat these parts with love and care. I certainly feel a lot better.
Anyway. No two people are exactly alike, and the little tips I gave might absolutely not work for a lot of other people with ADHD. But I think we can all learn from Casey's incredibly important lessons of trying to care for our brains and give them what they need, rather than trying to force them to change. The world is cruel enough as it is. We don't need to be cruel to ourselves as well.