In my last post, I explained how my supervisor asked permission to share her thoughts with me. She gently suggested that I might have ADHD. Now, I wasn’t there for an assessment, and she wasn’t suggesting she could diagnose me, but her words made me pause. "Have you ever considered that this might be something you’re dealing with?" she asked.
I won’t lie — I was stunned. But as the conversation went on, something shifted. It was like a floodgate opened, and I found myself talking about parts of my life that I’d never fully understood until now. I shared stories of times when I struggled to make sense of the decisions I’d made or the paths I’d taken — decisions that felt completely out of sync with who I am as a person, my values, and my moral compass.
I found myself talking about the feelings of guilt and shame I’d carried, especially around the reputation I’d earned as an impulsive person. To be honest, I used to get quite offended if anyone called me impulsive, because, in my mind, I wasn’t impulsive — I was just decisive. But looking back, I now see how that impulsivity could have been misinterpreted.
And then there was the sense of injustice. If I felt someone was being judged unfairly or treated harshly, I’d stand up for them, no questions asked. The same went for me. The thought of someone misunderstanding me was absolutely devastating. It would cut me deeply. It would affect my relationships and conversations, and I found it nearly impossible to let go of an argument or debate if I felt that I’d been misunderstood — it was like an emotional wound I couldn’t let heal.
That conversation with my supervisor was eye-opening. It helped me see my struggles from a new perspective, and though I’m still processing it all, it felt like a big piece of the puzzle had clicked into place. Being misunderstood and feeling like I overreact emotionally are things I’ve always battled with, but now, I have a new lens to look through. Who knows where this will lead, but I’m curious to keep learning about myself and how I can better navigate these challenges.
The final piece of the puzzle came when I started talking about what I’ve always referred to as my "busy head." It's something I’ve discussed countless times with clients, but bizarrely, I never really recognised it in myself. Even though I’m aware of the theory that hyperactivity isn’t always external, and often shows up as internalised restlessness in women, I couldn’t apply this to my own experience. I knew the theory, but it never clicked for me until I was explaining it to my supervisor. When I tried to describe how my brain works — the constant racing thoughts, the inability to switch off — it hit me that not everyone experiences life in the same way I do.
I had always assumed that everyone’s mind worked the same way as mine, that it was normal to be kept awake at night, constantly ruminating over conversations from months, even years ago. I would replay things over and over in my head, wondering what I could have said differently, or what impact my words or actions had on someone, even if that moment was long gone. I found myself thinking about it again and again, wishing I’d handled things differently, wondering how others perceived me — and I thought that was just how everyone’s mind worked. I never stopped to think that a neurotypical brain might not be stuck in a loop like that.
To find out what happens next on my journey, look out for Part 4 – An endless cycle!