What to Expect from an Adult ADHD Diagnosis

I know a ton of people out there who are frustrated that we aren’t told what to expect from an adult ADHD Diagnosis. My own diagnosis came after almost five years (at least) of ridiculous levels of fatigue that were diagnosed as being a byproduct of motherhood, and a lifetime of weird things that I’d always thought were just deep character flaws, like chronic procrastination and an inability to stop interrupting people when they talk. I stumbled on the possibility of ADHD, like, five times before finally breaking down and getting diagnosed, and I had no idea what a trip I was setting myself up for. It’s a lot, and I’m nowhere near done yet, but I thought I’d give some of you a heads up, because if you’re planning on looking into a diagnosis, there’s shit no one warns you about. Shit like:

Thinking you’re faking it, or thinking that you tricked the doctor.

Thing is, most of us don’t just wake up one day looking to be diagnosed with something. There’s usually a long span of questioning, doubting, and research before we finally bite the bullet and make the call. By then, we’ve heard examples and personal stories out the wazoo, to the point where we can list our suspected symptoms by heart.

So when the evaluator comes back agreeing with your assessment, you can’t help but wonder if you’re actually just a genius mastermind who learned their lines way too well.

You’re not. I’m not saying you’re dumb, and there are certainly people out there who make shit up, but most of us aren’t pulling a fast one on anyone. Instead, many of us have just been dealing with these things for so long that we’re afraid to finally accept that we’ve found an answer. We were told there was no answer, because there was no question. We’re just lazy. Or hyper. Or rude. Or undisciplined. To put a sudden name to it after many years of it having none is a real bout of mental gymnastics, and it doesn’t always stick the landing perfectly.

Especially if you’re a woman, chances are your diagnosis was missed. So it’s not that you made anything up; you just weren’t what many mistook ADHD for. 

I was diagnosed in May, and even a few months later, I still will read someone else’s account, wherein they talk about how they can’t stand having routine (I need it), or that to-do lists don’t work for them (I can’t function without them), or that they did badly in school (I did well), and I’m right back on the “Oh my God, what if I’m a total faker and I don’t have ADHD” train. You won’t be able to help it; a lifelong truth that you’d come to accept has been turned on its head. There’s no combatting that in a matter of days, weeks, or even months.

Having to get to know yourself all over again.

A diagnosis of Adult ADHD isn’t a death knell by any means, but it does mean that you’ll need to let go of who you thought you were.

I thought I knew myself. I’m loud, I talk a lot, I suck at following through on things, I’m always down for a nap, and I’m neurotic to the point of overthinking literally everything I do.

But now, I’m finding the “me” I thought I knew was “me” without help or medication. And now I have to get to know who this whole other person is. I mean…except for the loud thing. That’s just me. But otherwise….

Now, I have to figure out what moods are my baseline, how I’m “supposed” to feel everyday, and what I’m like on medication, vs. when I’m not. It’s a weird thing to do, because I thought I got all of that “finding myself” shit out of the way in high school and after my first marriage. Yet here I am again, at 35, trying to get a good handle on what I’m really like as a person. In fact, after my therapist suggested it, I’ve been logging my daily moods and symptoms and what-have-you into an app in order to keep track of when my medication works, and how it seems to affect things like my energy levels and my focus. In fact, I now have three apps to track hormones, sleep and energy, and moods/factors/symptoms (I’ll have them listed for you at the end in case you want to try them. I don’t get anything for recommending them). It’s like I’m running a lab experiment, but the lab rat is me.

You’re going to do this stuff a lot. You’re often going to think back to things you did and realize that they were probably signs. You’re going to do something and realize that this habit is one you picked up in order to handle the weird way your mind works.

In the end, I think, you’ll understand yourself better than you ever did, but only after you do the work. I dunno about you, but I didn’t think I’d be doing this kind of work in my 30’s. But everyone needs a hobby, I guess.

You’ll realize that a lot of the advice floating around out there was not meant for you.

I honestly can’t tell you how long I’ve been working on becoming more organized and productive, because I don’t know which of my many planners has that information in it. My email is probably on upwards of 50 “Become more productive” or “Gain more energy” newsletter lists. I have downloaded many, many apps that promised to help me lead the fulfilling, busy life that I knew I could lead if I just tried.

And, now that I’ve figured out that my mind works differently, I’m realizing that the problem wasn’t that I wasn’t trying hard enough; it was that the advice wasn’t meant for someone who thinks the way I do.

For example, the Fabulous App, which I otherwise adored, never made it past a certain point for me because I’d always lose interest. Like, drinking water every morning was lovely and easy enough, but once you get to the point where you’re telling me to write to-do lists at lunchtime, you’re asking for me to get to a point where I don’t know what the hell I’m doing (personally, I have to know what I’m planning on doing in the morning, or I wind up floating around aimlessly until I fall into bed at naptime). Apps like this also don’t allow for “off” days, which are super common.

And common suggestions like “write in a planner and follow the planner exactly” or “keep a clean workspace” don’t really click either, because again, the problem isn’t a matter of a lack of willpower; it’s a question of whether or not your brain, your hormones, your sleep levels, your nutrition, and whatever else have decided to align in order for you to get things done.

The “Productivity Coaching” world is just not set up for neurodivergence, and it’s both liberating and disappointing to learn.

Living on an emotional rollercoaster of joy and sorrow as you figure out medication

Obviously, not everyone will decide on medication. It’s expensive, it doesn’t always play well with a lot of other medications, and some people don’t feel that their lives are really in need of it. That’s cool. You do you. But this is for those of you who are sure you want to do the medicine thing.

So, I can’t tell you how excited I was when my psychiatrist called in my prescription for the first time. A medication that would finally keep me from feeling tired all day and make me more productive? Gimme, gimme gimme! I downed that first pill like it would save my life, because in my eyes it would — I was going to be more like myself than ever before; life would be smooth sailing from here on in.

Except it wasn’t. Sure, the first few days were a dream: I had energy to burn, I was very happy, and I was getting everything I needed done. I was over the moon.

But then my body adjusted, and I was finding that some days, that medication wouldn’t quite get me over the hurdle. But that was okay, because I’d just ask for an increase in my dose. And I got it.

But that second increase only worked about half of the time. When it worked, I was great. I remembered things I needed to do and did them, I played with my kids, and I even found time to clean the apartment. But when it didn’t work, I was sluggish, and unproductive, and damn-near depressed. Part of that last thing was due to hormones, because see, ADHD medications (stimulants in particular) don’t work as well when PMS starts. This would not be a problem if I didn’t kinda fight a losing battle against my uterus every single month.

Add to all of this the fact that I felt like I was in debt to my husband and family for all the years that they had to do things without me because I was too tired. All the times that my husband had to clean the house because I couldn’t seem to get myself to do it. All the years that I was back in bed for a nap merely hours after waking. I felt as if I was sliding back into that life, and the guilt ate me alive. So there was also that, plus fear that my medications weren’t working.

So you spend your time thrilled when the drugs work, and despondent when they don’t. And sometimes it’ll be such a roller coaster that you won’t know from one day to the next how things will go. You’ll want to cry when your symptoms are worse than they were yesterday, and you’ll become frustrated with the fact that these medications won’t fix you. They’ll help, but your brain will always be your brain, no matter what pill you take.

Which brings me to the final big thing no one warns you about…

Learning to love (or at least tolerate) the pre-medicated version of yourself

Once you realize that the medication isn’t a catch-all, you finally understand that you’re going to have to be cool with yourself no matter what happens. I mean, I guess you could decide not to, but then you’ll have so many days marred by low self-esteem and frustration and disappointment in yourself that you’ll wind up feeling almost as unproductive as not taking medication at all.

So, this is where therapy helps a ton, if you can swing it, because you’ll probably need someone there to tell you that your productivity is a terrible measurement of your worth as a human being. You won’t hear that anywhere else, because at work, your productivity is all you’re judged by, and as a parent people assume that sitting down or watching TV is a sign of shitty childrearing. So you’ll often feel that forgetting things, losing things, getting emotional, procrastinating, or just about any of the other signs that you’re not “normal” are signs that you’re only good when you’re not showing symptoms.

Thing is, those symptoms aren’t due to illness; they’re just how your brain works. So if you’re hating your symptoms, you’re also hating that brain of yours, which is inconvenient because it’s the only brain you’ve got.

Now, I’m not demanding that you suddenly love your ADHD or whatever, because it’s a condition that can be wildly inconvenient. But I am telling you just from my limited experience that you’ll have a much easier transition if you at least learn to accept yourself for what you are. This means that you’ll be readier to roll with whatever kind of day you’re having, and that you won’t be too horribly disappointed if your day will call for a bit more coping than you’d originally hoped.

For example, I can feel my medication when it takes effect. Usually, within about 35-40 minutes of taking it, I’ll either feel it, or I won’t. If I feel it, I know I can plan for a more productive day. If I don’t, I’ve learned to plan to finish two or three priorities, and to leave the rest up in the air for me to finish the next day if need be. Should I wind up having a day like the second option, I don’t spend time mourning the day I thought I’d have, and I don’t try to force myself to be more than I know is possible; I simply accept that the person I am without medication is the person I will have every day, whether the pills are boosting me or not. She gets on my nerves sometimes, but she’s trying. And it’s for that reason that I won’t be judging her harshly when she can’t be perfect every day.

As I stumble on more, I’m sure I’ll continue this. But until then, I hope I’ve given you some info that you needed. Speaking of needed info, here are links to those apps I told you about. I can’t recommend them enough:

The Bearable App – a neurodivergent/mental illness – friendly mood tracker that allows to you track a LOT, including times you took your medications, energy levels, weather, hormones, and the severity of symptoms. It allows you to enter extra notes in a bunch of different spots, has a place for you to enter short gratitude entries, and includes some insights that help you figure out what affects your condition most. It seems like it needs a pretty hefty data sample size before it starts showing info that’s more accurate (for example, it says that my ADHD medication makes my energy worse, and I damn sure know that’s not true), but it’s still helpful pretty much from the jump because it also forces you to start paying attention more to what you’ve eaten or done in connection to your condition. Free version is available, with premium being available for 4.99 a month, and a $28 yearly subscription.

Rise Sleep App – I can only speak to the iOS version, but this app works hand-in-hand with the iPhone’s “bedtime” feature to keep a close eye on how you sleep night to night. Then it calculates how bad your sleep debt is and shows you when you can expect a bump, or a slump, in energy throughout the day. It won’t be particularly helpful on days that outside influences cause you to be tired, but it can be great to plan your day out when you know you’re doing pretty well already. 7 day free trial available, then $60 a year.

P Tracker Period Tracker by GP Apps – This thing is incredibly accurate, and has a handy little countdown til your next period. It also has a great log that will tell you how many days are calculated between your periods, as well as future predictions of when it’ll happen months down the road. Also includes spots to enter symptoms and sexual activity. Completely free, but there is an option for a $9.99/year that also includes mood and symptom tracking, articles, and a host of other stuff.

I was also diagnosed late, and so I know how to help you feel less out of control. If you’re looking for a little 1:1 help, let’s start working together.