Member-only story
So It Turns Out I Almost Definitely Have Adult ADHD
And what to do with that information
ADHD doesn’t exist, right? No one can focus, everyone gets distracted, and we all forget things. Right? Right? Hello?
I used to insist this was the case for years. I would grandstand in the pub, in the office, and to any who’d listen, explaining ADHD was simply exuberant personalities not adhering to authority by fitting into school lessons and corporate jobs.
ADHD? Free spirits, more like.
Is Russell Brand ADHD, I’d ask? Is Jim Carrey? Are their nonconformist character traits a disability or condition that needs to be dampened down with medication? I didn’t think so, I’d conclude, all pleased with myself.
And yet, and bloody yet, for all my conviction and blow-hardiness, my own probable ADHD diagnosis followed me around for years, tapping me on the shoulder, whispering “That’s you that is.”
Not when I was a kid mind you, back in the late 1980s, no one spoke about ADHD, it wasn’t a thing, you were just branded a little shit who misbehaved. Trust me.
When I was 10 years old my exacerbated parents took me to a food clinic because my hyperactivity knew no bounds. There, a quack doctor put slides of food into a magic box and used a pen attached to…
