David Martin (he/him) is a risk and cyber leader with a passion for writing about humanity, neurodiversity, and, more recently, generative ai.
David holds a degree in arts from the University of Toronto and is happily married with two children. He enjoys listening to music, playing guitar and piano and sharing insights and experiences through his writing. David also publishes his ai-generated art daily on https://instagram.com/papercutscafe.
At age 53, I received a diagnosis that would change my life: attention deficit hyperactivity disorder (ADHD). This revelation was surprising and transformative, shedding light on a lifetime of misunderstood experiences and behaviours.
Before my diagnosis, I went through life like a novel with missing pages, attempting to comprehend a story that seemed to leap over vital information to the storyline. I was often lost in my thoughts, and impulsivity was my frequent struggle. There are many stories I can tell that upon reflection were symptoms of my undiagnosed ADHD. I’ll share a few of these in my story below.
As a teenager, I fell behind on a project in Computer Science - writing a short program in BASIC. Instead of owning up my failure to complete the project to the teacher, I copied a friend's floppy disc (it was the 80s). The teacher caught me, and we were both held accountable for my actions.
My actions, often regrettable in hindsight, were even a mystery to me. This impulsivity, coupled with an inability to communicate my feelings effectively, strained my relationships and led to bouts of binge drinking in my youth.
In University, I had a big crush on a friend. When she showed affection for another guy, I ended the friendship altogether. The last time we spoke, she called to ask if I wanted to get together sometime,
I simply said, "No, I'm bored with that." I still don't know how I could have said something so hurtful, yet for years afterward, I thought we had just drifted apart, having forgotten the conversation entirely.
Professionally, my ADHD manifested as missed deadlines and forgotten deliverables. Despite my friendly demeanour and eagerness to please, my performance suffered. I was a serial starter, always excited about new projects but rarely seeing them through to completion. Financially, my impulsivity led to spontaneous purchases and unused memberships, further complicating my life.
For example, I must have signed up for new gym memberships at least 5 times between 30 and 45. In most cases, I signed up and visited the gym once and never returned until cancellation.
At work, I consistently received average to above-average scores on my performance. My ratings were often negatively influenced by the tasks and projects I forgot to complete. And yet, I still found myself promoted occasionally, eventually achieving the level of Director where I work today.
These achievements may have been due to my inherent abilities and willingness to work hard to solve problems. It may also have been my ability to successfully mask many of my symptoms of an ADHD diagnosis of which I had no knowledge.
The turning point came when my daughter was diagnosed with ADHD. She struggled in school, and as early as age 7, she often forgot to record assignments on the blackboard at school. She struggled to succeed in middle and high school and was highly anxious about homework and projects. While she found some relief, like me, through psychotherapy, it was not enough. She researched ADHD symptoms on her own, perhaps inspired by posts on social media about the condition.
Initially skeptical, I began recognizing my symptoms as I delved into my own research about the disorder. Through many books and online tests, this realization led me to seek a professional diagnosis.
To receive the assessment, I needed a referral from my family doctor and an initial investment of $500 of the $2500 fees from the clinic she recommended. I wasn't provided with an initial interview or intake for nearly 3 months and was at risk of losing my place and deposit if I wasn't available for that first interview.
The assessment process took nearly eight months and involved a series of appointments with psychologists, psychometry, and psychiatrists. Except for the initial interview and final diagnosis, each meeting was with someone different at the clinic.
I had to complete offline questionnaires, and my partner was also given questions to answer. The clinic asked for my school records to check for early signs of ADHD, but this paperwork was lost to time (and perhaps to ADHD). All of this work happened at the tail end of the height of the pandemic.
I was already suffering anxiety from the experience of COVID19, let alone the ADHD assessment process. But I made it through the assessment and in the end, was diagnosed with ADHD 'combined type.' I understand this classification has fallen out of favour in some circles, but I suppose it remains somewhat relevant.
My ADHD diagnosis was a relief, but it was also the beginning of a new journey. Treatment options included medication, management techniques, and psychotherapy. Having already explored psychotherapy and various management tools, I opted for medication. I started on a low dose of Vyvanse (Lisdexamfetamine), gradually increasing it until I found the right balance.
The impact of the treatment was profound. The constant 'noise' in my head quieted, and I became more focused and attentive. I had the energy to pursue a healthier lifestyle, resulting in significant weight loss and increased physical fitness.
Creatively, I was able to set and achieve goals, and my career began to flourish as my improved focus and productivity were noticed at work.
Since my diagnosis and treatment, my life has transformed in several significant ways.
My journey to an ADHD diagnosis was a long time coming. I feel like I missed out quite a bit in life. Still, on the other hand, the experiences I had with undiagnosed ADHD were unique and impactful to the direction my life has taken. Ultimately, it has led me to a place of understanding and acceptance. I've learned that it's never too late to seek help and that a diagnosis can be the first step towards a happier, more fulfilling life.
Having been through the assessment and diagnosis process, I encourage others to seek their diagnosis through professional channels. I also advocate at my workplace and personal life for those with this condition and seek new ways to live a happy and successful life with ADHD.
Growing up, I never really felt that I was the same as my peers; it wasn’t a bad thing necessarily, but I just couldn’t relate or build the connections most did at the time. I seemed like the average kid to most adults when I was growing up, as I liked video games, books, music, movies and school. If someone looked at my grades, I was a good student, and I enjoyed learning. Nothing back then would have made it obvious to someone that in my 30s, I would be diagnosed with ADHD.
Except there were. There were numerous signs that ADHD would be a struggle for me and that my brain wasn’t quite like the rest in how it processed things and worked both to my benefit and detriment whenever it felt like it. That good student:
1) had the messiest desk of anyone in their grade
2) spoke out often and couldn’t wait to give the answer
3) made careless errors in their work even though they knew the answers,
4) forgot things for class
5) would often not do homework unless it would be checked
6) had difficulty fitting in with peers even when they tried to be like the others
7) overreacted to seemingly small things
Nobody looked beyond the good grades and stereotypes that ADHD was solely a busy child who couldn’t sit still and oftentimes misbehaved because that was what people thought it looked like back then. Add in being a girl in the 90s and I would be missed off that alone.
While I was in the process of getting diagnosed at 30, I wondered numerous times if I was wrong and that there was no way I could have ADHD. I figured if all the people I interacted with couldn’t see it, it must not be there. But then I started watching videos on other people who were getting diagnosed late in life and reading as many articles as I could to understand how ADHD can present so differently in people and saw myself in many of the things I watched and read. I was eventually diagnosed with combination type ADHD and it was freeing to be told that I wasn’t wrong this whole time about feeling different from others and that everything in my head was right. It was empowering but it wasn’t entirely without some sore spots.
Though my diagnosis brought a feeling of relief and comfort, it also brought sadness with it. It was hard to look back at my life through the lens of knowing I had ADHD the whole time. I wondered if I would have been better in school or if I would have made more friends or if my childhood would have been a lot less lonely. As a young adult, I may have been more conscious of my impulsivity and not spent money I shouldn’t have or have been a healthier partner to my boyfriends at the time or recognized that not everything is a personal attack when receiving constructive criticism. While I feel this period of mourning a life that didn’t happen was necessary for growth, there is something to be said about not dwelling on it too long because it interferes with the here and now. Take the time to acknowledge the grief but celebrate being here just the way you are.
I can’t say that the celebration period doesn’t have struggles or challenges because it does. My ADHD manifests itself in so many ways and finding a fit for me between medication, strategies and overall lifestyle has been a bit of a whirlwind. I will say that my life is in a much better place post diagnosis because it’s allowed me to make peace with who I am and develop strategies to enhance my life rather than just survive it. If you cannot get a diagnosis for whatever reason (lack of access or finances), please find resources or join ADHD groups with strategies you can use to support your everyday life. We are all in this together and it’s so much better to thrive than survive.
“What would you do differently?” This is a question I am so frequently asked that I have decided to respond to it in this blog about how my children have helped me become a better person. My acupuncturist most recently asked me this question this week when discussing their own child’s teenage adventures. Over the years I have shared in the stories people related to their young ones; and have learned in the end, it is all about relationships. I am a mother and a teacher with ADHD. I also have children who have ADHD. I am an ordinary person who finds joy in everyday things. I believe we can do small things with greatness or great things can be done in small amounts. That helps me when I feel overwhelmed, which can happen with my ADHD. For example, when writing this blog or preparing a meal. As a teacher, I hope to help promote, inspire, or support greatness in small amounts every day. As parents, it would be difficult to inspire greatness in everything we did but rather, our children are remarkably great and so are we.
Even an octopus does not multitask. Do one thing at a time. Mindfully being present in my activities has helped ease my anxiety about having to retain information from conversations while simultaneously completing non-related activities. The art of conversation is hard to find at present with the busyness of modern society and technological devices. Spending time and purposefully being present with my children during their conversations is one of my favorite pastimes. Simply listening, without judgment or correction, has allowed them to develop their thoughts and feelings. Learning to listen, without trying to guide or interject, has taken time. As a parent with ADHD and children with ADHD, there are always so many thoughts that want or need to be shared. However, learning when it is appropriate is another matter. I have learned that sometimes it is necessary to listen first and wait to respond later. Feelings can be big and need space. Our children can have the last word and most of the time, they need our presence more than our voice.
Perfection is not required. However, as a parent I desperately tried to achieve this with every lunch and snack I packed for the children. Each was a non-repeating, 45-minute process, of allergy-conscious, selective-eating, healthy options, budget-limited selections. Every item was carefully chosen for its maximum health potential, likelihood to be eaten, and economic affordability. I wanted the children to find healthy food options in their lunches that supported their neurodevelopment. Ensuring the children had an abundance of food for school and the perfect lunches was a way I tried to protect them from possible negative adult perceptions. In this way, the children’s behavior couldn’t be blamed on poor food choices, lack of nutrition, or neglect. As the children aged, they began to take part in sponsored lunch programs, buying cafeteria food, trading lunches, and even asking to meet up with me for lunch. As I became more comfortable and adapted to advocating for my children, I focused less on what was in their lunches and more on what was in their classroom. It is a process.
Worrying has never stopped anything from happening, including worrying. I worried then and I worry now. For both my children and me, our journey with ADHD occurs with Anxiety. The substance of my anxiety has changed regarding my children as they have aged and have taken on more of their responsibilities. Gone are the days of having to remember tests, assignments, birthday parties, and extra pairs of shoes. The floors have walked bare and the chairs rocked for hours, waiting for phone calls or for children to come home. Children leave when emotions get too big when words fail, friends call, days are long, or adventures await. My worry turned every scenario into the worst possible situation for my children. Every time they were late or chose a friend I did not approve of, I let their diagnosis of ADHD overshadow their creativity, independence, and interpretational skills. When things go astray, ADHD can create a big “WHAT IF” monster in my head. Children do choose their friends and do stay out late. They will get bruises and get hurt. Worry has never stopped my children from any of things. Being there for them has helped them heal when it has.
Even though I feel like motherhood has given me “the pink slip” now, my children still tell me I am needed. Even as an older mom, I still learn new things about motherhood as a mom with ADHD and with older kids with ADHD. Nothing is ever complete, like laundry or the dishes. They stay piled forever. If people want to see a perfect house, they can watch television or watch a magazine. My family is not perfect, and I am not raising a house. Your home can be clean without causing you anxiety or worry. Since several members of our home have ADHD how we try to accomplish things in the home is completely different. This used to cause communication issues, and emotional tension, and consequently, not a lot was accomplished. Through counseling and learning better communication skills and spending more time listening, I learned that sometimes getting things done gets in the way of relationships. My children helped to teach me a different type of organization system where things can be visualized. They also taught me how to delegate tasks and break down jobs into smaller ones. As a single mother, I was used to doing everything myself, and being able to hyperfocus, I was able to complete tasks without issue. However, the children taught me work will always be there but sunny days or freshly fallen snow are to be enjoyed. Take the time to make memories, they will keep you company when the children are grown.
Wouldn’t it be ideal if when your child receives a diagnosis of a neurological complexity, like ADHD, you were handed a map that detailed the road ahead of you? All you would have to do as an exhausted caregiver that had made it this far was choose which door to knock on first. Instead, when caregivers are told their child has a diagnosis they often feel alone, lost, and desperate for direction on what steps to take next. Being given a diagnosis is not even half the solution to what the problem has been for their child and the world of resources, advocacy, and intervention often seems out of reach.
At least that was my experience as a mom. When my child was given a diagnosis I knew I needed to take steps, but I didn’t know where or how to start. It was only through seeking the advice of other parents who had walked the path before me that I was able to piece a plan together and baby-step my way through finding the support we so desperately needed.
For many of us raising children with exceptionalities, like ADHD, there are years that feel like our families are being tossed around in an unforgiving storm. The journey to a diagnosis is often long, with appalling wait times for assessments and paediatrician appointments. Our children have struggled for years before they receive a diagnosis and we have struggled right alongside them. We’ve been in this blustery storm with our kids for a long time when we finally make it to the Pediatricians office and instead of being handed a solution, we’re often handed a blank to-do list. There is much to be done to help our children find their own unique versions of success, but first we must scrawl out that to-do list ourselves. It’s like bumping around in a dark room looking for the light switch. You know it’s there, but the only way to find it is to grope around the room feeling the roughness of the walls searching for the switch that is going to make all the difference.
Here's the thing: it is hard enough to do the things, without first having to find out what the things are that need to be done.
Recently I joined a brand-new Paediatric Clinic that aims to provide wrap-around, low-barrier services to families before, during, and after their referral to see a Paediatrician. Many families have children with complex and compounding diagnosis and every parent I spoke with had a similar story of exhaustion, grief, hopelessness, and fear. In my role as the Family Liaison, I was able to show them that I understood their experience, that everything they had experienced was normal and that they weren’t alone. Most importantly, I was able to point them in the direction of current education and resources that would suit their situations. They were able to begin mapping out their to-do list before they even saw the Paediatrician.
As the first year in my role as the Family Liaison at the CYAN Clinic neared its completion it became clearer that funding was becoming impossible to secure. There has been no public funding made available to run the clinic and both myself and Dr. Francis had been donating our time to keep the clinic open. As you may already be aware ADHD is virtually unfunded in the province of British Columbia. Although it is a neurodevelopmental disorder that impacts individuals across all social-emotional, physical, and academic domains, ADHD alone does not qualify our learners for extra funding or support at school under the current Ministry of Education guidelines. A diagnosis of ADHD will not qualify caregivers for any public funding sources for intervention tools, outside therapy, coaching, or support services. Desperate caregivers are paying out of pocket for services on top of taking time off work to attend meetings, appointments, and to frequently pick their child up from school when their child is expected to adapt to an environment that doesn’t work for them. The financial burden of raising a child with ADHD is reported to be 5 times higher than that of raising a neurotypical child , and yet there is no accessible funding for the most prevalent neurological condition in childhood. And as we at the CYAN Clinic have learned, there also appears to be no funding to keep accessible services open and available at no-cost to families. We must do better.
Multi-disciplinary paediatric teams that provide educational and emotional support services to families during the assessment and diagnosis process enable caregivers to create their own maps. Seeing a Paediatrician and receiving a diagnosis doesn’t mean the storm is over for families, but care from a Paediatric Clinic absolutely should be a lighthouse in that storm. Wrap around services that support caregivers at the time when their child receives a diagnosis enable caregivers to continue to be the lifeboat their children need while they ride the waves.
A lot of adults with ADHD don't feel like they worry too much or are too sensitive, but whenever I talk to my friends about how they see me, everyone says the same few things: I'm easily upset and sometimes I have 'drama' if something doesn't go my way.
I was diagnosed as a child and over the years I've learned that ADHD is so much more than a problem with distractions and forgetfulness. It's in every corner of my brain and personality...from reading, to overfeeling and oversharing emotions, to dealing with work processes and conflicts, to keeping a tidy house.
The people problems are the worst. I can't tell if my feelings of rejection are legit or made up. Feeling rejected is more painful to me than an injury. It physically hurts. Every time I feel threatened by someone else's rejection, I overreact and the cycle begins again.
There were years where I struggled to hold down a job and interact socially because the net result of my rejection cycle left me so anxious at the thought of getting into another rejection cycle with someone left me too anxious to function. No one in my life could even tell whether praise or criticism would set off another emotional bomb.
These days, I find it easier to avoid upsets. I work remotely from my home and can plan when I go out to meet the world. I am really assertive with managing my mental health and boundaries. The best way for me to do this? I shut off the TV, click “unfollow” on my social media accounts, and limit anyone who disturbs my peace. I also get out into nature - I feel better after some fresh air and movement.
I have a hyperactive mind and body, and I'm discovering that exercising my hyperactivity by using my body and neurodiverse mind the way they were created (that is, not in front of a screen) is the best way that I can rebalance myself with my ADHD and mental health.
It's still a journey but some days I actually feel like I'm winning when I consistently take care of myself.
If I were diagnosed earlier, my life would have been much different.
I would not have had to put up with the abuse I endured growing up and after I left home. I was called lazy, stupid, and crazy and told that those with ADHD have lower intelligence than those with out it.
Nancy, diagnosed at age 55
