Today I announced on social media that I will be taking on my own diagnosis journey this year (and likely next year and maybe the year after depending on waiting lists). Last month I had the stark realisation that I have ADHD. I felt my brain explode as all the pieces of my life fell into place. It was as though I had found the key that opened the door to my inner self, a place that had been kept well and truly locked away so as not to disturb the outside world.

The realisation of my own struggles in life very much mirrored the time when I began to listen to my own thoughts around kiddo and his development. I’ve read countless articles, filled in questionnaires, joined support groups and asked questions. Each one of these acts confirmed my suspicions even more.

It’s not been easy to come to terms with. Not because I’m worried about having a neuro diverse brain, but because I have realised how much I have been masking my behaviours my entire life. When I opened that door to my inner self, any annoying habit I had or inability to appear “normal” came flooding out. I couldn’t stop it. Since christmas in particular I have felt out of control and unable to essentially keep a lid on the real me.

At home nothing has changed, other than now hubby understands the reasons why sometimes I act a bit strange 🤣 When I am out in the wider world however, I am struggling to put on the face I have for most of my life. That face is tired and worn. It’s easily broken and needs a bloody long holiday.

Trying to make sense of what seemed like a whole mess of emotion, I started reading a book that summed up my reaction perfectly. Grief and relief. They come like waves in the ocean. I had been feeling in control for years, but being a parent carer is stressful and impacted my mental health. It chipped away at my resilience and ability to regulate. Then suddenly, a month ago, it was as though a wave took my feet out from under me and I was washed out to sea. I regained my calm just before Christmas and felt back on top. Then out of no where I was hammered by a huge wave once again.

My grief is tied up in childhood experiences and misunderstandings throughout my school life. There are things that now make sense that simply didn’t before. I long to tell my mum why I drove her so mad but losing her to cancer will prevent me from ever doing so. Then comes the relief, that there’s a reason for the behaviours I struggle to control. That certain areas of my life are chaotic for a reason. That I’m not a bad person, I’m just wired differently.

Then another thought hit me. Imagine being a child and going through this. Going through these feelings and emotions. It’s made my determination to be there for my son even stronger than ever.

Thank goodness for my amazing husband who loves me for exactly who I am and is willing to learn about it all. It’s going to be a bumpy ride, but I’m ready now. Bring it on.

Thanks for reading,

Danielle