When I look at my life and what it is, versus what it could be with supports, it’s the most gut-wrenching, soul destroying feeling in the pit of my stomach….
I think the thing that makes it most bile-like is knowing that I could have had a completely different life, if my society was not structured around sameness and patriarchal values. If only I had been born into a society that valued women (beyond our ability to cook, clean, bear and raise children, oh and “service” men), the multitude of signs and symptoms that I exhibited since childhood would have been seen as indications of a processing disorder, rather than “oh she’s just being a girl.” 🙄
Since the standards for ADHD and other neurodiverse circumstances are primarily based on how these conditions present in males, likely hundreds of thousands of women have gone without diagnoses, and the supports that would have allowed us to maximize our potential.
Can I tell you something that’s been secretly irking me? It bothers me that when I share with about the challenges I experience with ADHD, some of my male friends will say they deal with those same symptoms, but they’re on medication/have been since childhood. And I secretly assume that they’ve been provided the coping supports because they’re male. I know I shouldn’t assume, but admittedly for the first few seconds that’s where my mind goes. And I feel a bit jealous.
On the other hand, when I share my challenges with my female friends, they often say variations of, “Oh my goodness. That so sounds like me. Maybe I need to be assessed.” And that alone makes me want to keep sharing, because I figured out that I had something going on because of a Facebook post.
Why do I talk about ADHD all the time?
Because I saw a post that changed the course of my life. It said, “Tell me you’re neurodivergent without telling me you’re neurodivergent.” And as I read through the comments section, nearly every comment sounded like me. I mean, odd things that I thought only I did/experienced. And I didn’t relate to just 2, or even 5, comments. I read 100 comments and related to 98! It was then that I finally decided to listen to my therapist and get assessed.
So am I writing this today?
Well, this morning as I was making breakfast, I started thinking about things in my life that have gone to sh*t as a result of the challenges I deal with and the lack of supports to make things easier. The more I thought of the multitude of consequences and losses, the angrier I became. I thought about all the life I didn’t get to have, all the things I didn’t accomplish, all my daughter went without, because no one cared to notice that ADHD tends to present itself differently in females.
I was struggling in grade school every single day, but it didn’t matter because I didn’t fit the description of a student dealing with processing/cognitive challenges. I remember in kindergarten a classmate used to leave class for part of the day and go with a different teacher. I heard what others students said as they looked down on him for having to go to the “LD class.” But I wanted to know for myself, so I asked him why he had to go wit that lady. He told me that he goes with her and she helps him with work and explains things to him so he can better understand. And my immediate reaction was, “I want that. Can I go? I would like help, too.” And he told me that I probably couldn’t go. He told me that he had failed kindergarten before and that’s why he had to go. And I realize now, as I’m sharing this, that this conversation was one of my earliest experiences of learning that even though I needed help, I didn’t match what it looked like to qualify for these supports. I wasn’t going to get any help.
And that’s exactly what I experienced. My teachers knew I wasn’t catching on. They would keep trying to explain something to me until they said they needed to get back to the class and then they’d either leave me to figure it out or in frustration ask a parent volunteer work with me (on the days they were actually there). I learned so much when I had that one-on-one support, but it was sporadic. I was struggling in my classes all through grammar school, but not one teacher acknowledged my struggles. And I can’t really be mad at them, because they weren’t equipped with the knowledge that these were signs that I was dealing with a processing disorder. Honestly, even the teachers and administrators now don’t know to identify students that may be dealing with a processing challenge. Well, at least not the girls….
I didn’t fit the known description of a student with ADHD. I was a child who sat quietly and didn’t get in trouble. Even though I struggled everyday, I got excellent grades. But nobody asked me how I got those good grades.
No, I wasn’t cheating. I would never do that. I was afraid of my mother. So afraid that in order to get good grades I taught myself everything I didn’t learn in school that day. I brought all my textbooks home at night and fought through the homework, reteaching myself the lessons so I could pass tests and quizzes so I wouldn’t get in trouble. I was my own teacher through grammar school, high school, and all the way up to my master’s. There are very few classes where I got it when the teacher said it. I had to learn it on my own time….
And honestly that’s how I’ve been going through life… finding my own ways and my own hacks to do the stuff everyone else does naturally. I’m putting in far more time to do the tasks that others do as second nature. And I’ve been doing that for over 40 years.
And now it’s starting to catch up with me. I’m tired from constantly taking 7 steps to make 1. I’m tired of being behind… I was gonna say “behind my peers,” but my journey is so odd and delayed, I don’t even have any peers. All the people who were jealous of me in grade school for being on the honor roll, have far exceeded what I’ve managed to accomplish…. Granted I have done some things that the average person may not have done—like the books, podcast, and my online course. But the basics? They’ve got me beat. I don’t have my own house. I’ve never bought a car, or even leased one. It can easily take me 6 months to make a 6 minute phone call.
And what’s worse is that despite the challenges I deal with, I still don’t have any supports in place. So I still am expected to show up in life like any other adult. And that’s hard. I go through life masking Monday through Friday and hiding (or hibernating) on the weekends just so I have enough energy to do it again. AND. THAT. IS. EXHAUSTING.
So lately, most days once I handle my domestic duties and get my child off to school, I’ve got nothing left. I do my best throughout the day to reboot, but I usually don’t get my energy back until about a half hour before my alarm goes off saying it’s time to go pick my daughter up from school. So all my work plans, never got done. Podcasts I planned to post, still haven’t been edited. Blogs don’t get posted. (Right now I am working on this to get it posted before bed. I should be asleep, as it’s 1:50am currently. But I couldn’t stand to get to another bedtime knowing I didn’t get my sh*t posted. I just couldn’t. So today I’m staying up and hopefully I’ll wake up feeling rested 5 hours from now. 😩
But anyway, blah blah blah… I just yawned so hard I heard the hinge of my jaw click. So I’m gonna end this without the fancy bow…. by just saying, I share about my diagnosis, and even about my self-diagnosis, because I don’t believe in “misery loves company.” I am a person who wants to save you steps. I am someone who will share my story (and the lessons) so you don’t have to go through all I’ve gone through. And my hope is that by bring awareness, I am: helping women to see themselves and consider being assessed, helping other neurodivergent humans recognize that you are not alone, and I even hope that the things I share will reach the right “ears” (well, eyes… oh yeah.. the podcast. I clearly need to get to sleep. 😂)…. and lead to some changes (whether in the schools, or in how more women and girls are being assessed… something.
I just have the audacity to believe that everything has purpose and that something good will come of all the challenges…. that even my tough stuff can be used for good.
Anywho, I’m no longer coherent so I’m gonna end this here.
Thank you for being here and thank you for reading. I really, truly appreciate you. This journey of mine is lonely and you taking the time really means a lot to me. I hope that my words help, empower, encourage, inspire, or at least entertain you.
Be kind to yourself.
And as always….
Blessings!
Marlene Dillon Empowerment Specialist
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