I had to take a moment and restructure some things before posting again. I had a whole journey mapped out, and a recent diagnosis has blown it all out of the water, because now I’m looking at my research interests through a different lens. Before I speak on my research concept and why it is important, I need to tell you about me.

For as long as I can remember, I have always felt unsure of myself. Not really knowing who I was as I always seemed to adapt to whoever I was with. In secondary school, I struggled to make friends and find my place. I went through an emo phase at one point. (WTF) Learning the music, the clothes, changing my voice to try and fit in, I had no idea how adaptive I had become until my marriage.

Looking back now, I realise I wasn’t just adapting. I was masking.

I really thought I found my one, my soulmate. We had moments I thought were so perfect and so aligned. My heart would explode from just sheer joy. But there were moments I decided to accept suffering for those fleeting moments of alignment. Until the suffering caused my heart to freeze up, and I decided to leave. Stepping away and finding out who I really was, highlighted how much of me I was hiding.

He thought I was too loud, so I spoke quieter.

He thought I gave too much detail, so I planned every word internally before I spoke it.

He thought I wasn’t sexy. I wasn’t attractive with my natural Afro hair. I looked like a man. So I neglected my hair and covered with wigs.

He was materialistic, loved labels. So I started feeling less than for not wearing designer.

He hated flights so my yearly flights stopped for caravan parks.

Being in a space that I get to control made me realise something. 

Just how heavy the mask was.

Fast forward nearly 3 years, I’m experiencing difficulties day to day that I’m struggling to explain. I had to leave work due to physical health problems and vowed to continue to art and spend that time on me. I finished my Master’s working from a refuge on a little tablet, rewriting a 4,000 word essay I lost because my husband smashed my belongings including iMac and MacBook. I’m a warrior so if I can do that under pressure like fleeing my husband and losing all belongings, then what can I do when I’m safe.

Yet t I can’t find my motivation or my interest in anything. But it’s not depression. I’ve ridden that rollercoaster, it shows up differently for me. I don’t want to get out of bed and do anything when I’m depressed. 

I want to do these things. 

I just can’t.

Let me give you an example.

I’m in a lot of pain because I’ve missed my morning medication and my lunchtime dose. I’m hurting and I know taking my medication will alleviate these symptoms, and yet I can’t bring myself to take it.

Why? It’s such a simple task.

One of my besties spoke to me and said to look into ADHD as he thought I’d relate to it. I don’t usually attach labels to myself. But he knows me well and I value his opinion, so I researched ADHD.

For the first time in my life I felt like there were words to describe my experience. I always say I struggle to articulate myself because the words I speak never match the intensity of what I feel. 

I’m not lazy, I have executive dysfunction. 

Out of sight really is out of mind for me. Give me a deadline and I’ll complete everything in the 48 hours before its due.

So I know I’m capable.

I just struggle to start.

I thought ADHD was just disruptive children. I had no idea what ADHD actually was. And when I started researching it, one thing kept appearing again and again.

The nervous system.

In ADHD, the nervous system is sensitive to sensory overload. For years I had this feeling. Not anxiety exactly, but like the world was too loud and too bright. Like I was absorbing too much of everything around me until it became overwhelming. 

Knowing I’m intelligent but still making silly mistakes. Losing belongings constantly.

So much of my life I tried to hide to appear more capable. And as a black woman, there’s another layer to all of this.

We’ve all been told we have to work twice as hard. We’ve all been told to assimilate, talk a certain way, look a certain way for the sake of a job, or to make friends. 

To present ourselves in the best possible way.

But at what cost?