The Duality of ADHD: a Gift and a Curse

By Kẹ́hìndé Fágbulẹ̀

I've always found living difficult, and I thought it was the same experience for everyone on earth. It wasn't until last year that I learnt otherwise. Don't get me wrong; for most people in the world, living is a chore, and to be fair, life is anything but fair—Unfortunately, some people get the short end of the stick compared to others. For disabled people, that stick is as tall as a thumb.

Before I learnt that I might have ADHD last year, I had gone to the hospital the year before the pandemic for a psych eval (psychological evaluation), seeking answers for why I found it difficult to control my brain and quiet down the noise. I came out of that with a diagnosis that I now believe was wrong. I was diagnosed with Social Anxiety Disorder (SAD). And even though all of the things we (my therapist and I) unpacked in the seven months of therapy that followed pointed towards ADHD—task completion syndrome and the persistent feeling of restlessness—my social anxiety disorder diagnosis made sense at the time, but only because I had no clue what ADHD was.

There has to be an explanation for this frustrating extreme dualism that I am forced to live with. How am I so intelligent yet so slow? My sisters can testify to how painfully slow I could be and they say it to my face too. How do I have a memory that goes back to when I was a 3-year-old yet so forgetful? Shit, where did I drop my fucking keys just 5 seconds ago? How am I unable to do this boring task that barely takes me 5 minutes yet I can pull back-to-back all-nighters to do something I'm passionate about? Why is it difficult for me to find motivation to perform a simple task so I keep procrastinating, but as soon as the deadline looms, I turn into a creative beast and get the job over the line? How come I can't accurately predict my punctuality? My time blindness means I'm either way too early or omg I can't believe I'm running late, I've been preparing for this shit all day! If you'd give me instructions, I would prefer it to be written rather than over the phone because I have no recollection of what you just said to me two minutes ago. How come barely months into a new endeavour I already feel unmotivated to keep going. Too many questions, what exactly is wrong with me?

Last year I found the answer to these unsettling questions. Not a fix, the answer. Turns out not everybody feels this way and I am in fact neurodivergent. It's why I've always felt different, misunderstood and sometimes powerless against my own brain. “ADHD is just an excuse to be lazy,” you'd often hear people say. Many nights I would have to look inward and try to “speak some sense” to myself. “You've had this task since last week, Why can't you start right now?” If you know anything about me, it is how passionate I am about telling stories, and how writing has always been my preferred art form. This is not laziness.

To do practically anything as a human being, our brain needs dopamine. Dopamine is a neurotransmitter, a chemical messenger in the brain, that plays a key role in the brain's reward system, motivation, movement, and mood regulation. It is often associated with feelings of pleasure and satisfaction. People with ADHD have lower levels of dopamine, or their brains don’t process it efficiently — especially in parts of the brain that control attention, planning, and impulse control (like the prefrontal cortex).

That means:

• Uninteresting tasks feel physically painful to start (that's why procrastination sets in)
• You don’t get that “spark” or sense of urgency that pushes others to act (where neurotypicals can signal their brain to start, people with ADHD are unable to send that signal until it is fight or flight mode)

• Rewards (like praise, money, or deadlines) don’t always motivate you unless they’re immediate and intense.
  

I know a lot of people don't appreciate the difference in how our brain works, some even say we claim to have ADHD because it's “cool.” But until you live with this, you never really know what it feels like. I've lived with it all my life and I'm only just starting to understand it.

Fancy ADHD on a product?

 

One of my biggest culture shock crossing seas to the United Kingdom was the dilemma I faced filling out forms that asked if I was disabled or not. Of course, my natural response is to choose “not disabled,” but then there's ADHD listed as one of the disabilities. Now, I recognise that I don't appear disabled and to be honest, I still struggle with identifying as one.

Coming from where I'm from, mental health is considered a myth, so neurodivergent people are subject to constantly trying to find a way to fit in. Imagine the horror a dyslexic Nigerian teenager faces in a public school, getting shamed for not knowing how to spell when in fact their brain really just has a different wiring. Thinking about it now, I've only ever gone ONE DAY without getting flogged by my teachers in school (primary and secondary) for “being stubborn, silly or making silly mistakes,” even though I was always the gifted child. Because of this significant difference in how our (people living with ADHD and/or autism) brains work compared to the rest of the world (neurotypicals), several aspects of our lives are often impacted—at work, in relationships, or with our individual goals. This is why it is considered a disorder, a disability.

However, even though my ADHD impedes my daily life, sometimes leaving me ashamed for having the memory of a goldfish and locking myself out of my apartment, I think it is my superpower in the same breath. I don't think neurotypicals have the same level of hyperfocus as us. If it's something I'm really into, damn, I'm sometimes scared of myself how deep into it I can get just for the fun of it. My ADHD brain also makes me think creatively, see patterns others miss, and connect seemingly unrelated ideas (divergent thinking). Another advantage my ADHD brain gives me is my empathy and sensitivity. Because we feel emotions deeply, we can pick up on others’ feelings. This allows us to build strong connections when we feel safe and understood. Lastly, my impulsivity means I can take a lot of risks and have the courage to face the aftermath—win or lose. Because we don't appreciate being told what to do, we live unconventionally, prioritising our peace and quiet, the significance of which cannot be overstated as we don't get a lot of it inside our head.

While ADHD presents real challenges, it also comes with strengths that many people — once they understand how their brain works — learn to lean into and use to their advantage. But above all, isn't it just so fucking cool that you're able to fully understand your brain and have a go at working together with it instead of against it?