Adult ADHD Diagnosis

What do ADHD and the Star Wars films have in common? My ADHD diagnosis was about as shocking as Darth Vader's revelation: "Luke, I am your father". Okay, maybe neither this plot twist nor my ADHD diagnosis came as a complete surprise.

Hi, I'm Anna - I'm the artist behind A Colorful Clay, and in this blog post, I'll tell you how I received my ADHD diagnosis at 32. By now, I know that I'm not alone with my story - because so many women* have been completely overlooked by the healthcare system for decades. And I am one of them.

Why seek a diagnosis at 32?

I always knew I was different. But I didn't know until adulthood that this could be explained neurobiologically. Quirky, weird, special - I've been described with many words. But I always lacked an explanation that could help me understand myself better. Many things felt particularly difficult - others particularly easy. Academic achievement in hyperfocus? No problem. Finding and keeping friendships? No chance. Stress from the slightest change of plan? Crippling. Enjoying complex tasks? Always.

For a long time, I thought everything was going well. Master's degree in hand, starting out as a freelance photographer, my first own apartment. Especially professionally, after dozens of internships and part-time jobs, I still hadn't found where I fit in. 9-5 felt suffocating, no room for spontaneity or creativity. But at some point, not everything continued to run smoothly - the pandemic brought the development of my self-employment to a standstill, nothing worked anymore. Almost impossible for a brain that always keeps going.

But I also noticed: it feels great when no one else is in the supermarket. Slowing down helps my nervous system. I also cope well in crisis situations.

Social media brought unexpected answers

The collapse of my shaky construct followed with the end of the pandemic - everyday life returned. But everything was too much for me. And the feeling didn't feel new, but more intense. I slid from burnout to burnout until eventually nothing worked anymore. I had known for a long time that something else was lurking within me. And I started therapy. For the first time, I learned to really listen to my needs, to stand up for myself; we discussed people-pleasing, setting boundaries, and much more.

By chance, I stumbled upon a post about ADHD on Instagram. I was captivated. As if in a trance, I read everything I could find about ADHD and neurodivergence. It felt a little like someone had opened a portal to a parallel universe - a universe in which there was an explanation for my brain and in which I could learn to live with my brain, instead of against it.

I kept showing my partner posts, but always with an incredulous "That's not me, is it?". The thoughts wouldn't leave me. After three months of intensive research, I was sure that I had ADHD. The term frightened me, but also gave me hope. With a bit of luck, I managed to get a diagnosis appointment within the next four months.

The ADHD diagnosis

Questionnaires. Self-tests. Questionnaires for my loved ones. Digging through old elementary school reports. And in the end: a tearful: "Yep, Anna, you have ADHD". This was followed by overwhelm, anger, sadness, relief, fear, and pretty much every emotion imaginable. Which is a bit too many, especially for a brain that already has trouble identifying its own emotions.

By now, my life feels like "before" and "after" the diagnosis. As if a completely new chapter has begun. I think only people who are diagnosed with neurodivergence in adulthood understand how unsettling it is to virtually start over. At least that's how it felt to me.

One story among many

No two brains are alike. The experience is different for everyone. But I am just one of these stories. For decades, ADHD was more often diagnosed in children, especially boys. This is also because ADHD manifests differently in women*. We are often less physically hyperactive, less loud or disruptive in class - and were thus overlooked. No wonder, in combination with our patriarchally structured society. For a long time, it was even assumed that ADHD "grew out" and no longer occurred in adults. Decades of stereotypical ideas about neurodivergence - and we are only just beginning to discover and process them.

Precisely because of this, it is important for me to speak openly and honestly about my neurodivergence and my journey. Because as much darkness as there is in the story - there is also so much light.

Starting a business with ADHD

Without my ADHD diagnosis, I would never have been able to learn to live and work with my brain instead of against it. Is it still often difficult? Absolutely. However, many things that I long thought impossible are now within my reach. Like my small business for handmade fidget toys. I never would have dared to do that before - and now it fills me with pride every day that I can make a small contribution to the visibility of neurodivergent stories.

In this spirit: Thank you for being here. Thank you for reading my story. Feel free to become part of our Instagram community and share your story with us.

Love,

Anna