And now it’s my turn

I am 52 years old, and I have always felt like I was on the outside looking in. Unless I am really comfortable in your company, I feel awkward in social situations. I am so messy, I go from one hobby to another, I lose my keys, bag, glasses, phone on an almost hourly basis (and I regularly look for my phone while talking to someone on said phone) and I never feel that I am enough, or that I do enough.

Don’t get me wrong, I have self confidence & self belief. I know my value, and I know that I am good at my job, that I can do almost anything I put my mind to, and I am a fixer (clothes, fencing, DIY, people…), but I often feel that I am different. It’s my normal, and I just thought it was one of those things. Then I had children who ended up being diagnosed with ADHD, ASD and dyslexia and I started to wonder. Both of them are now seeking adult diagnoses for other conditions, and I felt that, ever so slowly, that maybe, just maybe, there was a reason that I felt how I felt.

I read lots of articles, looked into the epigenetic basis for neurodivergences, and so I started saying ‘I think I have ADHD’. That felt ok, I didn’t feel like a fraud, so then I said I was self diagnosed with ADHD. Again, it felt ok. However, it still didn’t feel enough. Some people raised an eyebrow, but I am my own worst critic. On dark days, I doubted self diagnosing. I felt I was just making excuses for a messy house, for not completing tasks, for feeling overwhelmed with life, for having a burn out day. Self diagnosis wasn’t enough. I needed to do more.

Inspired by my children, I did a few more online assessments, and then I emailed the GP. I had a phone consultation with the mental health nurse, and then through NHS Right to Choose, I was referred to Psychiatry UK back in January.

I heard nothing, so my self doubt came back. Maybe I didn’t have enough symptoms to be referred, maybe it was all just in my head and I was just a very a scatty messy person. I messaged the GP admin people who said they would look into it, and still I heard nothing.

And then today, I had several emails, one of which contained the following sentence:

Great news! We have reviewed and accepted your referral for your ADHD assessment.

I almost cried. My referral has been accepted. I am going to get an ADHD assessment. I am not broken. I am finally going to get an answer.

I read the following poem recently on Insta, it’s by Jessica Jocelyn (letters.to.anna on Insta), and it sums it all up so well.

behind every late diagnosed woman

is a little girl

who knew this world

was never made for her

but could never explain why.

I have supported my children through their battles, and I will continue to do so, but now it’s my turn. I need to support myself, I need to be kind to myself, and I need to battle for myself as I have battled for everyone else.

It’s my turn now.

And now it’s my turn.

I advocate for people, I tell parents how a diagnosis is a lens not a label and it allows children to be seen and understood. I tell them that the ADHD/ASD is always there, it’s just a diagnosis opens a door to understanding and help. And yet when it came to me….

I self diagnosed with ADHD several years ago – part of the reason why we didn’t look for an ADHD/ASD diagnosis when our children were young as we didn’t really see anything different about how they behaved or learned. They may have been a little more intense than we were as children, but the things I used to do (pluck quilts, draw on anything, take things to bits, climb anything and I was a rubbish sleeper) and to some extent still do (although I’ve only ever plucked on feather quilt) were pretty much what our children did.

So why only self diagnosis? Maybe because ADHD wasn’t a thing when I was growing up, especially not for girls. Looking back at my school reports that frequently talked about how good I was in the classroom but how my homework and written work didn’t quite match, and how I could be argumentative and was good at debates, or thinking about how I used to be dared to distract the English teacher on Friday afternoons in 6th form so we could have a discussion rather than a lesson, it’s clear that the signs were there at school as well as at home.

But it just wasn’t a thing – and I did well in education. I passed all my GCSEs and A-levels, even if my grades were not as good as predicted. I then decided not to go to university at 18, and several jobs before getting married and then having our eldest. I went to uni as a mature student with a toddler who didn’t sleep, a husband who worked long hours, a night sitting care job 2 nights a week and an hour commute to university. Spinning plates is a understatement, but my hyperfocused mind just did what it needed to do, and I graduated top of my class.

When I started teaching, I taught whatever I was asked to teach, and I was good at it – I’m still in contact with so many students (hello if you’re reading this), and I did my teacher training while I was teaching (which is common in colleges). I then started a part time Masters degree while teaching and co-running a business and now with a toddler and a 10 year old, neither of whom slept. Spinning more plates, but I did it, and came top of my class again.

The more I have to do, the more I thrive. Today I am a curriculum lead in a small special school, I blog, I have written & self published my first book, and am now working on a book proposal to traditionally publish my second. I live on a small holding and my husband and I are setting up a brewery. We still have our family IT business and I do the accounts for that. Our youngest is struggling with uni life so I am on tram transport 2 or 3 days a week. And on top of all that, I’m doing a self funded part time doctorate. Spinning plates – again!

So what gives? Well, I’m messy. Our house is never spotless, and is often verging on feral. I have so many unfinished books and crafting projects (because I need to have a hobby on top of everything else) and sometimes – probably much more often that I think – I am grumpy and moody.

So, yeah. Self diagnosed ADHD, but I say it almost as a joke.

Not any more. A couple of weeks ago, after helping our youngest fill out his form/test for ADHD referral, I decided to take the test myself. On the ADHD Self Report Scale (ASRS v1.1) Symptom Checklist there are 18 questions. I answered honestly, and I ticked 17 out of the 18 boxes.

I decided self diagnosis wasn’t enough but I know that our GPs our incredibly busy, and I didn’t want to take up an appointment, so I emailed saying that I thought I might be ADHD, and could I maybe talk to someone about the possibility of maybe getting a referral. I tried to make it as ‘sorry to bother you and don’t worry if I can’t’ kind of language.

A text came back within an hour offering me an appointment with the mental health nurse. I felt a huge weight start to lift off my shoulders. Unfortunately the first appointment was cancelled because the nurse was ill. I had the phone call at work, and I cried on the way home. That weight of spinning plates was pressing on my shoulders again. I only had to wait 2 weeks for the new appointment, but it felt like I was going to be waiting for ages.

I had my appointment last night, and yes, I am going to be referred for ADHD diagnosis. When I was talking to the nurse, I said (without thinking) that I wanted a diagnosis so that I could be kinder to myself, and that’s the main reason why I am now on the waiting list. I need to be kinder to myself. I have an amazing brain that does amazing things and is excellent at spinning plates, but I don’t see the mess on the floor, and I have just remembered as I type that there’s a washing machine full of washing that was supposed to go on the line this morning before I left the house. Oops. I am also brilliant at choosing and writing cards, but then finding them weeks later unposted. I start craft projects all the time and if I don’t finish them before I get bored, I just leave them and start something new.

But it’s ok. It’s how I’m wired. And now I have finally taken my own advice, I have made that call, and I am on the waiting list.

Now it’s my turn.