Editors’ note: A diagnosis of ADHD requires professional evaluation. Contact a physician for further assessment if you think you may have ADHD.

I switched on my tablet’s Bluetooth and waited for my keyboard to connect. The wait, which usually took three seconds, was three seconds too long for my ADHD brain. So, I rushed to the kitchen and rummaged in the cupboard for my— 

I hit my forehead against the cupboard door. Ouch. Nursing the small bump, I staggered back to my chair, trying to recall what I was supposed to be doing.

Why was I in the kitchen again? And why did I open my tablet to begin with?

No, I wasn’t suffering from a concussion. Even without that minor head trauma, I wouldn’t have been able to recall certain things the same way someone else could.

And that’s just one minute of one day of more than 40 years I’ve been alive. Every moment is a constant struggle to focus, especially if it’s on the right things. Every distraction is a wrecking ball that ruins whatever momentum I build.

Adulting is hard. Even taking a bath is hard. And don’t get me started on cleaning my room!

Confirmed

Although attention deficit hyperactivity disorder (ADHD) has been with me since childhood, I never fully understood it until a doctor roommate of mine confirmed my diagnosis when I was sixteen. I had been jumping up and down on my bed for no good reason when she first met me.

ADHD or attention deficit hyperactivity disorder is said to occur in 5.9% of children and 2.5% of adults.

There was no internet back then, no immediate access to information that I needed. I knew of nobody else who struggled with ADHD. I was alone in my attempt to make peace with who I was. So, when I read about ADHD in a medical book, I was shocked by the accuracy: It was as if someone had studied my past, documented it, and used it as the basis for the diagnostic criteria.

I was a textbook case. Although that made me feel horrified, it also gave me a sense of closure.

Too little and too much

More than two decades later, I still struggle with my symptoms, such as hyperfocus: As of this writing, I have spent every single day learning about painting with watercolor. From the moment the sun rises until my eyes close at night, everything I do revolves around painting. I schedule my day around painting. Even in my dreams, I paint! It has been nine months since I first fixated on learning watercolor, and I have shown no signs of slowing down. However, that means I have been neglecting the things I should have been focusing on: work, daily errands, and yes, even hygiene.

“People with ADHD are at increased risk for obesity, asthma, allergies, diabetes mellitus, hypertension, sleep problems, psoriasis, epilepsy, sexually transmitted infections, abnormalities of the eye, immune disorders, and metabolic disorders.”—Faraone, et al.

Many think that attention deficit means being unable to pay attention, when in fact it means being unable to pay attention to things that matter. My ADHD brain feels zero gratification for finishing important tasks — including deadlines that put food on the table.

“Imagine being surrounded by balloons, and all of the are about to float away.”

Imagine being surrounded by balloons, and all of them are about to float away. You have two hands to catch them before they’re out of reach, but your hands prefer to latch onto a pretty balloon. It’s colorful, it’s big, and it’s what you want. You watch, helpless, as the other balloons drift away. You know you will never get them back. Imagine that those balloons are all the tasks you have to finish to be a productive human being. Imagine being shamed by the people around you for not being able to hold on to those balloons, which is supposed to be a “very easy, very simple thing.”

Imagine being this way everyday for the rest of your life, living with inadequacy and shame. And, of course, the inability to take regular showers.

Your occasional forgetfulness is not like mine

Not everyone with inattention has ADHD.

Not everyone with hyperfocus has ADHD.

Not everyone with hyperactive episodes has ADHD.

Not everyone with impulse control problems has ADHD.

And for people who do have ADHD like me, it’s heartbreaking to see people jump on this diagnosis like it’s a fun and quirky bandwagon, because having it can be so hard. Having it means living with a brain that has such a messed-up reward system, which is why things most people take for granted — washing the dishes, heating refrigerated food, taking a bath, paying the bills religiously — aren’t much of a priority.

Symptoms differ among people with ADHD, but it doesn’t help that almost everyone thinks they have it simply because they share a few of these symptoms.

Take for example someone who has a serious condition (Parkinson’s, Alzheimer’s, cancer) that affects their day-to-day life. What if people around them were to say, “I am exactly the same way and know just how you feel”? It tends to minimize the lived experience of the person who actually suffers from that illness, doesn’t it?

If you think that you have ADHD, you deserve care and help: Seek consultation to be diagnosed properly and treated. But be kind to us ADHD folks, and try not to make it seem like our symptoms are “cute chaotic” and that you share the illness even if you don’t have the same diagnosis — this hurts more than it helps.

Think of the many people diagnosed with depression who were told things like, “Kaya moyan!” or “Dasal lang yan, friend!” or “Uy same tayo, malungkot din ako, pero tignan moko, kaya ko maginghappy!” or “Maybe you should smile more!” These people might mean well when they say these things, but they do more harm than good.

Invisible crutches

When a person in a wheelchair talks about how they hate going up the stairs in a building without a ramp, people don’t give that person a barrage of tips on how to use the stairs. But when a person with a mental disability talks about how they hate macro-organizing, people often give a litany of things that person can do to “be more efficient.”

Often, we have more sympathy for physical disability, because it is visible.

On the flip side, asking for help is difficult for someone like me. Whenever I ask for assistance, it’s always after I’ve lost sleep for doing research on how to do things alone. By then, I’ve already berated myself for not being enough. I would have tried to convince myself that asking for help is a part of growth instead of a loss of dignity.

I can only hope that if I say that I need help with something because my disability keeps me from doing it, that they would take my word for it, even if they can’t see my invisible crutches.

And I hope that people like me realize that we don’t have to be like the rest of the neurotypical world. But whenever we need help, it’s okay to ask.

Now, if only I can remember what I was looking for in the kitchen…

“People with ADHD are at increased risk for obesity, asthma, allergies, diabetes mellitus, hypertension, sleep problems, psoriasis, epilepsy, sexually transmitted infections, abnormalities of the eye, immune disorders, and metabolic disorders.”

Originally published in HealthToday Issue 1 2022