I’ve received all the paperwork from the assessment centre, and now I’m in the midst of the gruelling task of filling it all in. There’s part of me that worries I don’t have enough evidence to go down the diagnosis route, but there’s also a part of me that’s afraid there might be too much. It’s a strange feeling - starting this journey, but not quite knowing what to expect. As I sit down to fill in the forms, I find myself having to really dig deep.
Talking about myself, analysing my challenges, and reflecting on my behaviours has been an awakening. Normally, I’m not one to shy away from introspection. I tend to overthink everything, diving deeper into things than I probably need to, but this feels different. This isn’t just about looking at my present; it’s about unearthing memories and understanding past behaviours that have shaped who I am today.
Reflecting on my adult life has been easier. The challenges I’ve faced, the mistakes I’ve made — many of them have had lasting impacts on both me and the people around me. But when it comes to looking back at my childhood, things get trickier. Initially, I struggled to answer some of the questions in the context of being a child. When I spoke to my husband about the forms, I told him I didn’t know how I was going to fill them out, because I couldn’t think of any examples from my childhood that might point to ADHD. My parents both passed away when I was in my late 50s, and so the only person I could ask to help with the childhood questions was my brother. This posed a challenge because we’re quite close in age, and I don’t think he has the insight to really observe how I was as a child, especially since so much of my behaviour back then was internalised.
As I sat with the forms and tried to analyse myself, certain memories started to resurface — things I’d forgotten, or perhaps never fully understood. As a child, I can now see how I had huge overreactions to situations where I felt out of control. I remember a visit to the dentist when I was really young, and the intense dysregulated behaviour I exhibited. Absolute meltdown in the waiting room for no obvious reason. But it was looking back at my school years that really made me realise how early these patterns began. I remember when I was about four or five, my mum spent a long time trying to do something with my hair, which was always very unruly. She’d put curlers in, trying to make it curly, and I remember completely melting down at the school gates, refusing to go in, yelling “I can’t go into school with all these lumps on my head.” At the time, I couldn’t have known that my hair wasn’t perfect, but I could feel that fear of rejection. Even at such a young age, I was painfully aware of how I looked and how others might perceive me.
This sense of rejection continued to affect me as I got older. I vividly remember being around 9 or 10 years old when my mum and a friend were talking about me. I didn’t know if they thought I wasn’t listening, or if they just weren’t bothered, but I’ll never forget what they said about my body. I had no idea at that age what a “normal” weight for a child was. I wasn’t thin — I’ve never been thin — but I didn’t think I was overweight either. I wasn’t what anyone would consider fat, but I wasn’t skinny. Then I heard my mum’s friend say, “I wouldn’t worry, it’s probably just puppy fat.” I can still feel that moment now, how deeply it stung. Those words have stayed with me for over 50 years, and they still have an impact on how I view myself.
It’s strange, isn’t it? How certain moments can stay with you for so long, shaping your self-image and the way you navigate the world. Reflecting on these experiences now, I’m realising just how much of my behaviour, my reactions, and my internal struggles have been influenced by these early experiences. And in a way, this process of filling out the paperwork, of looking back and digging deep, is forcing me to confront these feelings — to acknowledge how they’ve shaped who I am today. It’s both unsettling and healing at the same time.
Next time I will look at my journey through secondary school, so look out for Part 7 – The storm clouds are gathering!