Separating yourself from your label
Going from the unknown to now being diagnosed with ADHD, I think the most challenging part is both having and remembering your own sense of identity. At one point, I had this dire need to find out what was wrong after hearing of so many people’s experiences. I never really felt typical; I always felt off; now I look at myself and think, am I really that simple? I enjoyed the maze of trying to make sense of who I was before being diagnosed, it left an air of mystery to me ironically a chronic love for those with ADHD. I’m now reminded that I can merely be explained by an ADHD diagnosis and a reminder that what I previously deemed as my individuality is no longer my own. The slight twinge that I may not remember something is now an over-bearing reminder that because I have ADHD I must have forgotten. One of my closest friends is a mental health professional and she asks the question that I share with you ‘you are not your diagnosis but to what extent’.
I’ll be honest this is quite a difficult question for me, one that I reckon with almost every day of my life. Have I moulded myself to my disability? I am not my diagnosis but in many cases I must be. One of the most essential parts of an ADHD diagnosis is the impact it had on your childhood and as I look back, I was an obsessive, head in the clouds and very creative child. Textbook ADHD but also just me. How do I know who I am beneath it all, or maybe it’s essentially a part of me the same which neurotypical brains are the same? I am known in my family as being the one with the big heart, the person who feels everything, but this can be simply drawn back to the emotional dysregulation defined in ADHD symptoms, the need to please people, and the inability to control the extent to which you feel.
I’m not my diagnosis, but maybe it explains why I differ, why I may struggle in a society created for the norm and by the norm. I often remind myself that God made me in his image with a purpose, and I’m not defined by how society views me. Not by a word, diagnosis, personality type, or look. The fact I can recount my life to a psychiatrist and tick boxes like my life is an old wives tale often steers me away from that belief. The fact I now make excuses or predetermine my actions purely because I have attached this label to myself makes me question it in its entirety. Is neurodiversity just a label for people we don’t understand? Is it a label that keeps us boxed into society’s version of ourselves? Don’t let the world tell you who you are; the true reality is to grow and surpass anyone’s expectations; we must not conform to our diagnosis but let it propel us.
So, I end this blog post with a reminder.
"To be yourself in a world that is constantly trying to make you something else is the greatest accomplishment." ~ Ralph Waldo Emerson
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