I have ADHD.

I am one of the increasing number of women being late-diagnosed with ADHD. Getting this diagnosis has been a bumpy journey and not necessarily linear. ADHD has long been associated with and assessed in childhood. Even as a person being assessed in adulthood, a portion of the diagnosis was based on information from my childhood—a questionnaire filled out by my mother and all my school report cards.

When I was a child, I did have difficulties in school; however, as the most prevalent issue was with my reading comprehension, I was diagnosed with dyslexia in Grade 3 and provided an IEP (Individual Education Plan). With so much focus on one area of my behaviour and education and the lack of ADHD testing in young girls, my many neurodivergent traits were semi-ignored.

Many core beliefs I hold about myself rely solely on symptoms of ADHD which went unrecognized for so long, functioning as negative traits I desperately wanted to change but couldn’t. I knew I was smart and capable, but constant struggles with executive function, procrastination, time-blindness, inattention and distractibility all stole from my potential.

Living with my parents and going to elementary and high school came with rigid schedules and disciplinary consequences. I, unknowingly, relied heavily on this ingrained structure as a crutch to get through. When I moved out and began my University degree, I quickly succumbed to my many challenges, coping with poor eating habits, substance abuse and sensory-overloaded environments, trying to drown out my overactive brain and dopamine dependency. I took five and a half years to complete my undergraduate degree. I got sidetracked by a toxic work environment, displacing my attention from school to bartending and partying.

But I can’t keep dwelling on the past.

Years have gone by. I no longer rely on the poor coping strategies of my early twenties. It took discipline I didn’t know I had and perhaps the obsessive tendency on the other end of the ADHD spectrum to get myself out of that hole. I hauled ass my final semester to rectify my GPA, as much as I could. I left that place behind. The mental and the physical environment I felt trapped in. I moved on, and I learned however much I could from my mistakes. I am not a person without fault in my current existence, but I am certainly more dependable, at the very least.

I’m 30 now, but so many of my insecurities, negative self-talk, and difficulties with executive function linger. I take medication to help me focus and linearize my thinking. I can read an email or newsletter at work without my eyes bouncing around the page or feeling like my brain is about to die. I remember little things! I can sift through my mental to-do lists, prioritize and not feel completely overwhelmed.

I still struggle; there’s no question about that.

Medication is not infallible. My body and mind are still my own and rely on internal desires and motivations to succeed. I know I have a long way to go on this journey. I have an abundance of unfinished projects waiting in the wings for my attention, but I can’t quite manage what comes next.

In search of information, inspiration and relatability, I read/listened to ADHD for Smart Ass Women: How to Fall in Love with Your Neurodivergent Brain by Tracy Otsuka and Nowhere Girl: Life as a Member of ADHD’s Lost Generation by Carla Ciccone. Tracy Otsuka and Carla Ciccone were both late-diagnosed with ADHD, and in their respective books address their lives leading up to and since their diagnosis, with fact integration from various MDs and ADHD specialists. However, while Nowhere Girl is a memoir at its core, addressing the emotional side, ADHD for Smart Ass Women is structured more like a guide with a productivity and business mindset. Both offered me great insight, and I’m even inclined to read again and pick up more I may have missed the first time around.

This self-discovery has uncovered more questions I need to answer about myself: what I want, what I can do. I look at the world with an adjusted perspective, and as I continue to discover, learn, and undoubtedly regress occasionally, I want to carve a place here to express these thoughts, tools, and anecdotes to perhaps reach those who have struggled like me and find community.