SPECIAL EDITION: ADHD and mourning what could have been
Sharing a very personal and never-before-seen published work of mine
In this special edition of Attention, Everyone!, I’m sharing my newly published work “Relics and ruins and the smell of vanilla cream”, a flash memoir piece featured in the literary journal Wordgathering about the hard choices I faced in the wake of my late diagnosis.
As science catches up, ADHD in adult women is rising, but diagnosis brings both relief and regret in the aftermath of decades lived misunderstood, undersupported, and alone. Too many neurodivergent women experience consequences like burnout, panic disorders, postpartum anxiety, lost dreams, or worse. Consequences that are heavy and scarring. I wrote last about the implications of being a writer and identifying with our struggles, but sometimes there’s simply nothing else we can do with the pain.
Read Relics and ruins and the smell of vanilla cream*.
*Trigger warning: This piece deals with themes of infertility struggles and pregnancy loss.
This piece illuminates the difficult decision my husband and I made to forgo having a third child because my answers about my invisible disability - and the support I always deserved - came too late.
Here is an excerpt:
"The remnants of these relics are what cause my grief. That I could go thirty-five years, eking past doctors, psychologists, teachers, even my own parents and – because I was born with female genitalia and adopted feminine norms – none of them knew I had undiagnosed Attention Deficit Hyperactivity Disorder (ADHD).
That was a disruptive little boy’s condition. My answers came too late.
It’s 2024, and the DSM-5, which contains the diagnostic criteria for ADHD, still does not contain emotional dysregulation or executive dysfunction, two of the most prevalent symptoms in females – pretty much the extent of my experience with ADHD. Women and girls are still being denied diagnoses because they “score too high” on tests or are “too polite” to be noticed. If only the measure of one’s wellbeing weren’t simply their productivity or to what extent they inconvenience others….
…We still have so far to go. Maybe I should be rejoicing that Collette won’t ever have to experience this pain. I wonder if there’s any hope for the daughter I already have."
Do you have any regrets? What did late diagnosis cost you?
Hi Liz. Thanks for sharing this vulnerable piece with us. My heart goes out to you. I am 59 and JUST piecing it together that I have ADHD. I am not even diagnosed yet, but I was diagnosed with both generalized anxiety disorder and panic disorder at 38, when I hit a wall of grief, overwhelm, exhaustion, stress, and a growing disconnect in my marriage. My kids were 6 and 3. My panic and anxiety were so great that I was barely sleeping for fear of dying. My neurodivergence took a huge toll on my marriage, which, after 29 years, ended in 2020. I can see now through the lens of ADHD that my brain differences (and lack of awareness around them) impacted ever facet of my life: work (hello, job and career changes every 1-2 years), my marriage (hello, RSD, insecurity, anxiety, OCD, boredom, disconnect, and eventual infidelity), my parenting (hello, perfectionism and obsession). Ack. It is with both relief and great grief that I have many realizations at this stage of my life. You are spot on that we mourn the life-and the lives of those around us-when we realize all that could have been.