Lately I’ve been reflecting on brokenness, which is no surprise considering that I feel like lately I’ve hit a breaking point mentally and emotionally. In typical ADHD fashion, I tend to spread myself much too thin, physically, emotionally and mentally. That’s because ADHD discipline is a bit of a fickle thing; you’re either pushing yourself too much or not enough, that doesn’t seem to be an in-between.
Well 21 years of doing that, along with a combination of other factors, has taken its toll. I’m now sitting in a place of what feels like permanent burnout, feeling broken. This didn’t just come out of nowhere by the way, a couple of months ago I realised that the mental effort it was taking me to put in place coping strategies to deal with ADHD was becoming harder and harder to come by.
From seven years with the NHS to four weeks through Right to Choose
ADHD Girl
This led me on a journey of seeking a re-diagnosis. Now for those of you who have been following my blog for a while you’ll know that I got diagnosed with ADHD at the age of ten in 1998. Unfortunately, I was also one of the people who when they got to seventeen was told that ADHD didn’t exist anymore and as you’re no longer in full time education then off you pop. After approaching my doctor, I had an appointment with the mental health practitioner, which to be fair led to some confusion. I don’t have a mental health issue, I have ADHD. Turns out the doctors refer through the mental health practitioner.
Once the referral was put in, I waited for the next step and then got a letter saying it would be almost seven years before I could access any ADHD services. Unbelievable! I couldn’t even have a conversation about whether medication would be a good option for me until that period had passed. Unwilling to wait that long, I went through a UK scheme called Right to Choose. In a nutshell it means the NHS pays a private company to deliver the same service. The referral went in four weeks ago and my re-assessment was yesterday. If that’s proof that our health service is as broken as most of us feel, then I don’t know what is.
“Nobody is comfortable feeling broken or lost, but sometimes they are the things that make us stronger, if we let them.
ADHD gIRL
Anyway, back to me. Anybody with ADHD knows that it’s incredibly frustrating when you can’t get your brain to do what it’s supposed to do or even what you need it to do. The mental overload of fostering, writing and running a household has made my brain go into semi-shutdown, where it doesn’t allow you to feel or think things as deeply as a form of self-protection. Of course, my changing hormones at the age of nearly 38 might have a lot to answer for.
Yet, in all this I’m trying to be kind to myself. I mean I’ve functioned to an acceptable level for almost 21 years without medication or hardly any support. I’ve written seven books, am raising two amazing children and that’s as well as designing the soon to be launched ADHD and Me training course.
With ADHD, it’s hard to sit still, but it’s also hard to be still, in the sense of having any peace, but I’m really trying to accept and embrace my brokenness right now. As painful as it is, it’s only when we reflect and sit in the brokenness, we decide which pieces of ourselves are worth saving and which no longer serve us.
In the last few weeks, I’ve learnt a huge amount about myself, more coming on that next week because well it’s a long story, but bottom line is I’ve realised that I am someone who masks and also massively overcompensates. What I’m sitting with and trying to decide right now is how these things define me and whether I want them to.
Catch you next week, when I tell you why London MCM Comic Con made me hit breaking point and more importantly what I’m going to do to change it all.
