Celebrating and Caring for Women with Neurodiversity
By Linda White, age 73
Last year I received a tremendous gift when I was diagnosed with Attention Deficit Hyperactivity Disorder (ADHD). It explained a lot of things, such as my problems with indecision, my pesky piles of stuff everywhere, and my world-class distractibility. After a year of cognitive therapy, I can honestly say that the biggest problem in navigating life with ADHD is that so many people think it isn’t real. Many see it as an excuse for laziness, sloppiness, lack of motivation, and failure to reach goals because of the aforementioned characteristics.
Well, allow me to explain some things. It is real and one of the most underdiagnosed groups includes older women. For many of us, it wasn’t even a diagnosis when we were kids. Hyperactive boys received eye rolls and comments like “It’s just boys being boys.” Girls, who are often not hyperactive, were largely ignored because we were quiet and seemed to be paying attention while our minds were, in fact, miles away. I remember teachers commenting on my report card, “Linda needs to work harder and apply herself”. What does that even mean when I am working hard and I am “applying” myself?
We all start our day with some form of to-do list, things we want to accomplish. A neurotypical brain (probably like yours) gets most of the list done with reasonable ease. A neurodiverse brain (like mine) may do one or two things or, most likely, none of them. Now here is the problem. A neurotypical admits that there are days when they don’t finish their list—so what is the big deal; they don’t use ADHD as an excuse. Yes, there are days when you don’t complete your list, but they are few and far between. For me, it’s the days when I do complete my list that are few and far between. There are too many days when I wake up and say to myself that I will get certain things done but my brain says, “Not today,” so I sit and stare out the window.
Okay, stop rolling your eyes. If I, or science, knew why my brain said “not today,” I would be a lot more reliable and predictable, but I wouldn’t be me.
Perhaps I should explain what is happening, or more accurately, not happening in my brain. Our frontal lobes, the area behind the forehead, are the seat of what is referred to as “executive function.” Signals come from our brain to the frontal lobe, where those signals are sorted out and sent to the parts of the brain that will act on them. This is where the ADHD brain goes wonky because our frontal lobes are simply not up to the task of sorting and assigning all of the incoming signals. While the term deficit is in the diagnosis, we actually have too much incoming information with no place to go, leaving us easily overwhelmed. And when overwhelmed, sitting and staring out a window makes perfect sense.
Like many with neurodiverse ADHD brains, I am learning how to circumnavigate my problems. Things like colorful calendars, notebooks with colored pencils for different activities, extensive reminders, and slimmed-down ‘to-do’ lists are a big help (on Thursday, the only thing on my list is to take out the trash). But perhaps the most important thing I have learned in therapy is that I am okay; I am not lazy, sloppy or unmotivated. After all, I am very involved with a non-profit organization, I prepare and present programs on a variety of topics, and I contribute to a newsletter.
I accomplish these and other tasks with my ability to hyperfocus, an ADHD superpower that is both a blessing and a curse. When my brain engages (sadly, this is not activated on demand), I can spend hours researching a topic and writing it up while tuning out everything around me. My husband has finally learned to recognize hyperfocus and will quietly ask if there will be dinner. I quietly reply, while not looking up from my laptop, “It is somewhere in one of those pesky piles.” He heads for the one in the pantry.
The curse of hyperfocus is that I crash and I crash big time, meaning that it might take me several days to recover. Unfortunately, I may never return to complete the things I accomplished with the same zeal until another period of hyperfocus comes along. Fortunately, I am making progress in learning to trigger my ability to focus, but the skill remains largely elusive.
For those of you with ADHD or who have a family member who has been diagnosed, my struggles may sound familiar. But to those of you who may recognize these traits in yourself, please seek out professionals in your community who can help determine if you have ADHD. There are social media groups, online resources, and a plethora of helpful books on the subject. But I urge you to do something now. Shame and loathing are serious side effects for many of us who deal with the manifestations of ADHD. There is no reason to have these feelings, as there is no reason to be ashamed. I don’t know who said it first, but “you be you.” Never isolate or sell yourself short. We may have ADHD, but it doesn’t have us.
If you have observed struggles similar to mine in a family member, friend, student, or co-worker, please seek out more information about this neurodiversity. Learning about ADHD can make you a better friend, teacher, co-worker or manager. ADHD, once harnessed and understood, can lead to amazing results as the creativity of the neurodiverse brain knows no limits.
Inattentive brains that wander while staring out a window often find new ways to see old problems. Some of the most talented and creative people in our world have ADHD, such as Simone Biles, Dav Pilkey, who created the wonderful worlds of Captain Underpants and Dog Man, one of the most prolific inventors in US history, Thomas Edison, and not surprisingly, Walt Disney. Don’t sell us short; we find wonder when we wander, so don’t be afraid to let yourself into our world.
I think my biggest takeaway from therapy (thank you, Cynthia) is that I can accept my indecisiveness and distractibility, walk by my piles and, instead of feeling inadequate and bad about myself, I just smile and turn on an old movie. I know that I will get everything done on time...in my own time. I would like your takeaway from my experience to be the fact that it is your reaction to those with neurodiverse brains that can make it so very difficult for us to be successful. Be patient and supportive. I guarantee that we are trying and we feel your frustration with us! Most importantly, we must be grateful that it takes all of us, neurodiverse and neurotypical, to make a richly textured world where everyone can thrive—even if we encounter a pile or two along the way.
Continue your learning!