Putting a Label on it
My Journey to an Adult ADHD Diagnosis
For as long as I can remember, my life has been a chaotic swirl of near-misses, last-minute saves, and an uncanny ability to leave things to the very last second and still somehow come out smelling of roses. I always thought that was just life. That everyone felt this way? It wasn’t until I hit my 40s, navigating my daughter’s neurodivergent diagnosis, that I started seeing my own reflection in the symptoms I was learning about.
What followed was a year of soul-searching, research, learning and then one of the most emotionally validating moments of my life. This is my story. The story of how I came to realise I had ADHD at 40 years old, what the diagnosis process was really like, and why I think everyone who’s struggling deserves to know their truth.
A Growing Realisation
Parenting is a wild ride, I've written about that several times, but parenting a neurodivergent child adds an extra layer of complexity.
Kids don't come with an instruction manual, they're much more complicated than putting together Ikea furniture. There's a lot of on the job training and learning that you need to do if you want to do a good job of raising children.
My daughter’s Autism assessment journey is about to go into it's eighth year. And her ADHD assessment is around three years in now. At this rate she will be an adult before any progress is made. For context, this is through the English CAMHS system (Child and Adolescent Mental Health Service).
During this time, I've immersed myself in research and reading, trying to understand how her brain works and how I could better support her. What I didn’t expect was to see myself in so much of what I was reading. Coincidence perhaps, but the penny took a while to drop for me.
Then realisation hit me like a freight train during an ADHD awareness seminar in November 2023. November is ADHD awareness month and I attended to arm myself with knowledge to better understand my daughter. The speaker walked us through the symptoms of ADHD and thee were case studies presented by various people from all backgrounds who explained what their lives were like, living with ADHD. They walked through their childhood, into adulthood. It was like they were describing my life: the 15 alarms to wake up on a morning, the forgotten appointments, the hyperfocus on irrelevant but interesting things.
It was also explained how if our children were ADHD, chances are we might be too. That’s really when the lightbulb went off. The penny finally dropped.
At the end of the seminar, they shared a roadmap for adults who suspected they might have ADHD. That’s when I knew I had to find out for myself, to try and put a label on it.
This post is about my journey, but it could easily be yours, your child's, someone you know. I thought it might be helpful to read a recent experience of the ADHD diagnosis process in England. Across the world the process may vary, but I think wherever you live, the takeaways will be the same.
Step One: Facing the Forms
The first step was getting a referral from my GP under the "Right to Choose" scheme. This “loophole”, which gives the patient the right to choose how they receive treatment, meant I could bypass the years-long NHS waiting list in favour of Psychiatry UK’s online approach, which was billed as being only one year.
It started with an appointment with my GP, General practitioners can't diagnose ADHD but they are the gatekeepers to the people who can. You can stick with the NHS and play the postcode lottery as to how long it will take for you to go through the process or you can invoke your right to choose, this is what I did. I had a quick chat with the doctor, explained why I wanted to seek a diagnosis and shared with him the results of the multiple choice test I had done online in preparation.
The first set of forms is the generic ADHD symptoms lists. There are symptoms for each of the Inattentive and Hyperactive elements of the "disorder".
Inattentive Symptoms
Do you experience these symptoms: rarely, sometimes, or often?
Difficulty sustaining attention: Struggling to stay focused on tasks or activities, often appearing not to listen when spoken to directly.
Forgetfulness in daily activities: Frequently forgetting tasks, appointments, or routine obligations.
Disorganisation: Struggling to plan, prioritise, or keep track of belongings and tasks.
Difficulty following through on instructions: Starting tasks but leaving them incomplete due to losing focus.
Easily distracted: Frequently losing focus due to external stimuli or unrelated thoughts.
Avoidance of sustained mental effort: Avoiding tasks like homework or paperwork that require prolonged focus.
Careless mistakes: Making errors in work or school tasks due to inattention to detail.
Losing items: Frequently misplacing necessary things like keys, wallets, or school supplies.
Hyperactive/Impulsive Symptoms
How often do you experience these symptoms: rarely, sometimes, or often?
Fidgeting: Squirming, tapping, or moving hands and feet when expected to sit still.
Inappropriate movement: Feeling restless or running and climbing in situations where it’s not appropriate.
Inability to remain seated: Frequently leaving your seat in settings where remaining seated is expected.
Being on the go: Acting as if “driven by a motor” and finding it difficult to slow down.
Excessive talking: Talking more than socially appropriate or blurting out responses.
Impulsivity: Interrupting others, struggling to wait your turn, or acting without considering consequences.
Difficulty waiting: Becoming impatient in queues or when taking turns.
Interrupting or intruding: Frequently interrupting conversations or intruding on others’ activities.
Risk-taking behaviour: Engaging in activities without considering potential danger or consequences.
If you can answer, "often" to five of either set of symptoms, there's a potential that you have ADHD, or ADHD tendencies. Remember, I'm not a doctor, psychologist or any kind of medical professional, so don't take my words as verbatim, this is only an accurate account of my journey.
Filling out the multiple choice answers about the above symptoms was easy enough.
The doctor agreed that he would refer me and before I knew it there were more online forms to fill in.
If you’ve ever tried to fill out a form about your own behaviour, you’ll know it’s a special kind of torture. All of the symptoms above had to have examples, from both my childhood and my adult life, how I cope with them and what consequences they have on my life both now and when I was a child. This felt quite overwhelming to me. It made my brain short-circuit. I usually can’t remember what I ate yesterday, or if I ate yesterday. How was I supposed to remember things from my childhood?
It took me three months to complete the forms, jotting down answers as I remembered them because I couldn’t trust myself to just remember them later sat in front of the computer.
There's a section on the forms for someone who knew you as a child to fill out. My mum helped with this, recalling memories of my forgotten homework, misplaced possessions, and a knack for leaving everything to the last minute, not forgetting the “ants in my pants.”
By the time I submitted the paperwork, it was April 2024. Procrastination anyone?
The Nicotine Epiphany
If you’d told me a year ago that nicotine would play a starring role in my ADHD journey, I would’ve laughed. I started smoking at 15, and for 25 years, I either smoked or vaped. Nicotine was my constant companion. Then, in August 2023, I quit. Cold turkey, before a family trip to Paris. I didn't want to waste any of a rare family holiday, didn't want my children waiting for dad to finish smoking before we could queue for a ride at Disney, or leave the Eiffel Tower early because dad needs his nicotine fix.
The withdrawal was tough, breaking the habits of a lifetime was harder. I didn't realise in just how many scenarios I would reach for the vape, how much time I wasted stood next to the bins at the back of the office, rain or shine. But what hit harder than the withdrawal was the sensory overload that followed.
Without nicotine in my system everything was just "more". Driving felt like playing Mario Kart, a frantic blur of distractions, dangers, and overstimulation. Work became unbearable. I couldn’t concentrate. Every sound, every visual detail felt amplified. I could hear every conversation, every crunch of someone eating and it was torture.
There's a scene in one of the Spiderman films where he discovers his "Spidey senses" and he can hear everything, see everything and it's too much for him. That's how it felt for me, only in a much less superhero way.
I also got emotional at adverts, films and YouTube shorts of children seeing parents returning from military service. My emotions were dialled to 11, where before they were barely a 4. I couldn't not empathise with everything I saw, every story I heard. It honestly felt quite embarrassing.
All of this is in hindsight. I didn't see the link between cutting out nicotine and this overstimulation until much later. After months of getting used to my new normal, I thought I’d had some kind of mental uncorking. I thought that knowing that I had an ADHD assessment in progress that I had somehow manifested more sever symptoms of overstimulation. I thought that because I was looking for a label, my brain was creating more severe symptoms for me to deal with.
Then after a year I somehow realised that what had been missing was potentially what was amplifying my symptoms. I agonised with the decision to start using nicotine again, even as a medical experiment, because addiction is hard to beat. I didn't want to start smoking or vaping again so I decided to try nicotine pouches. (This is not an endorsement, I do not recommend beginning a nicotine habit if you don't already have one!)
Within minutes of using that first pouch, the world quietened. For the first time in 12 months, I could think more clearly. I honestly could have cried, if my emotions weren’t dialled back.
Looking back, I see now that I’d been unknowingly self-medicating my ADHD symptoms with nicotine for decades. Quitting had turned up the volume on everything my brain was already struggling to process.
The Day of the Diagnosis
As my assessment date got nearer, 27th December 2024, I was a nervous wreck. I had put so much stock into getting an answer, to putting a label on how I felt that it was all I could think about. Trying to enjoy Christmas, I always had in the back of my mind that this meeting could change my life, but that it also might make no difference whatsoever.
I worried that once the assessment started I might spontaneously forget all of my symptoms? That I might not be able to articulate what was going on in my head? But Dr Vin, the psychiatrist, put me at ease straight away.
The session felt more like a conversation than a test. We talked about my symptoms, past and present, and how they’d shaped my life, potentially disrupted my life.
People can live their whole lives with ADHD and never know it. They construct elaborate coping mechanisms that allow them to live "normal" lives. It's also possible that from time to time people experience ADHD symptoms that are just part of life, they come and go but they don't necessarily mean that person has it.
I wasn't expecting to get a diagnosis during the assessment, I had assumed that it would be weeks, if not months later, after my case had been reviewed by some panel and decisions made. But then just as casually as the questions that came before it:
“Mark, it’s clear to me that you have ADHD.”
It’s hard to put into words how that felt. Relief. Validation. Like someone had finally handed me the instruction manual for my brain, it was in another language but now I had it, I could spend time to translate it.
For a year I had suspected, but hearing it confirmed lifted a weight I didn’t even know I was carrying.
Finally being able to put a label on it gave me permission to feel the way I did. There's finally a reason why some elements of my life feel so hard, for the unfinished homework, the chronic lateness, the always racing mind. Now I know that I'm not just lazy for procrastinating on a project. I'm not just antisocial for not wanting to go to crowded places like parties.
These aren't excuses, ADHD isn't an excuse, but it is a reason. A reason to cut myself some slack.
I felt like an athlete training for the Olympics, but year after year never quite reaching the standard. Not because he's not good enough, but because he's had a stress fracture that went undiagnosed and was never allowed to heal. Now I have a label I can look to the future and plan accordingly.
What’s Next?
The next step is titration, where I’ll trial medications starting with methylphenidate to see if they help. I’m cautiously optimistic. Knowing I have ADHD doesn’t change who I am, but it gives me access to certain tools that might make all of the difference. It also gives me hope. I haven't researched the drugs available yet. That's next on the list. This next step is likely to take another 3 or 4 months so I have plenty of time for that. But whether it’s medication or just better understanding, I’m ready to tackle life with a clearer head and I'm willing to test anything that might help with that.
Having this label for myself also makes me feel closer to my daughter, I am sure that she has ADHD but for some reason it is much harder for her to get that diagnosis, even though she needs it more. Having that acknowledgement would make her life so much easier, especially at school. I don't know why it has to be so hard to give people clarity on something that is happening to them.
I hope that by telling her about my diagnosis she is much more accepting of her own journey and that together we can plan and prepare for her future and that my experience can help shape hers.
A Note to Anyone Who’s Struggling
If you’ve ever felt like you’re sprinting through life wearing the wrong shoes, or as soon as your head hits the pillow your mind takes off, take it from me: there’s no shame in seeking a diagnosis. ADHD isn't a weakness. Knowing the name of the battle you’re fighting changes everything. It gives you clarity, direction, and the chance to prepare.
ADHD isn’t who I am, I won't make it my personality, but it’s part of me, it always has been, I just didn't know it. And now that I know that for sure, I’ve got a fighting chance of coming out on top.
If you’ve ever wondered if you might have ADHD, don’t wait. Take that first step. You deserve to know your opponent.
It's around this point in a post where writers are supposed to ask the reader a question, give them a call to action to encourage engagement. I really want to hear from you if you've been in my shoes and come out on the other end, if you're where I was a year ago and you don't know what to do, or if you have a loved one who is on the same journey.
Thanks
There are several ADHD related Substacks that I subscribe to, writers I follow for their content and for their insight. Many of whom it seems like they have pulled their words directly out of my own head. Like they have told some of my story. I know there must be millions of people who feel the same. If this sounds like you, then you might enjoy the following newsletters as I have:
Thank you so much Mark for sharing your story and letting others know that being diagnosed with ADHD is not a weakness 🥺🙏🏻 Did you ever feel scared about getting diagnosed? I can't help but think of how in our country, there's still some stigma around neurodivergence and mental health conditions and that's why a lot of people experiencing these symptoms hesitate to seek help :'( Thankfully, in the recent years, the general public are now becoming more aware of this topic and more people are helping to break this stigma.
Thank you for sharing your journey and being part of this conversation 🙏🏻
Your words are so powerful, and I’m so grateful you shared this. I resonate deeply with this topic and see so many of the traits you describe in myself. However, I think one key difference for me is that, at least for now, I don’t feel the need for medication to manage it. That’s entirely a privilege, and I think it stems from two main factors: I don’t have kids, and I don’t have a typical job. Desk jobs are so incompatible with the way my brain works that I’ve actively avoided them. Instead, I juggle creative projects, and because my husband takes on the more traditional, “boring” job (bless him), I have the freedom to structure my life this way. Again, I recognize how much of a privilege this is.
I also think a lot about the societal rules we’ve been taught to follow. Over the years, I’ve worked to step outside those constraints, and I’ve spent a lot of time reflecting on this topic (so bear with me, haha). I understand that everyone’s symptoms exist on a spectrum and that circumstances dictate how much we need to manage or suppress certain traits. But for me, I believe it should be okay to be “restless,” “disorganized,” or even so excited that you interject sometimes. Of course, I’ve experienced times when these traits have felt overwhelming or disruptive, whether in my own life or in others’—especially when they impact jobs or relationships. But I keep coming back to how much we’re conditioned to “sit still,” “be quiet,” and even “breathe correctly.” That kind of rigidity feels like it traps energy, which can lead to overstimulation in some people more than others. I often find myself questioning what society deems “acceptable.” Clearly, this is a topic I need to write about in more depth someday! This is not to say I disagree with anything you said, but rather meant to validate even more your feelings that some brains will have a harder time growing up in such a rigid environment.
Your connection to nicotine was fascinating, too. I think there’s a lot to be said for how it aids in self-soothing, not just chemically but physically. Even though you used patches, the process of deep breathing—even with smoke—serves as a calming mechanism. The oral fixation also seems like it could help ground you, providing a sense of comfort. At least that was my experience (started at 15 too and still need to get this grounding sensation through deep breathing, three beverages at once, and an herbal cig (not weed but like actual herbs haha) from time to time).
That moment of validation—of finally understanding yourself in a way that makes everything click—is such a profound shift. I love how you described it as getting the instruction manual, even if it’s in another language. That feels so accurate: it’s not a solution, but it’s a starting point for deeper self-acceptance. The metaphor of the undiagnosed stress fracture is incredibly poignant. It’s not about making excuses—it’s about finally seeing the full picture and giving yourself the compassion and support you need. Thank you for sharing this beautiful and thought-provoking reflection.