"The Neurodivergent Doom Loop-A Self Portrait"

I don’t usually get this personal with my blog posts, or, with my work for that matter, but I decided that this topic, this nugget of information about me, might be relevant or helpful to someone out there. So, deep breaths, let’s dive in.

Around this time last year, I was ready to give up. I can recall telling a colleague over cocktails that I was going to close the studio and get a so-called “real job.” My lease was up in Rollinsford at the end of February and that was it. I was overwhelmed and burned out. I didn’t feel like I could go on. I didn’t want a real job. The thought of going back to a world with a boss and unimportant sales goals was terrifying, but in the emotional state I was in at the time, it seemed like the path of least resistance.

It was at this time that I decided I needed to find help. Help with running my business (more on this in a future post) and also help with, well, to be blunt - ME. I was a mess. Not the fun “hot mess” kind of mess. I was discouraged and angry. I felt like a failure. That I didn’t have what it took to be self-employed. And, it wasn’t just the business. I was also struggling with feelings of being an inadequate father to my daughter and an inattentive husband. I felt like I was letting everyone who mattered to me down… all the time.

I felt worthless.

So, in January I started seeing a new therapist. Right away I liked him. He’s around my age so he gets my stupid pop-culture references. And, more importantly, he listens. So, once a week, he sits and listens to me go on and on in a stream of consciousness. I know it’s his job, but I can’t tell you how validating it feels to be heard and acknowledged. After a couple of months of listening, responding, and then listening some more, he asked me a question that had never crossed my mind. A question that, as it turns out, had a life-changing answer.

“Have you ever been tested for ADHD?”

He explained that there are multiple types of ADHD. There is the hyperactive type that is more likely to get noticed and treated in childhood. These are the stereotypical kids you think of when you think of ADHD. We all knew them as the kids who couldn’t sit still and were in trouble a lot in school. This was pretty much all I knew about ADHD and this didn’t describe me at all. I wasn’t in trouble a lot in school. At least not more than other kids. I had good grades. I wasn’t top of my class, but I did alright. Another type of ADHD is what’s called “Inattentive ADHD.” This is where you don’t have the outward expressions of hyperactivity but you live with the mental symptoms. This type doesn’t get noticed in childhood as often since the outward expressions aren’t there, but it is just as challenging to live with. Symptoms include an inability to focus on things you aren’t interested in while also hyperfocusing on things you are. Inattentive ADHD makes it feel impossible to follow through on instructions or finish tasks. No matter how important they are to you, you just can’t get them done. You’re all-in at first, but after a while, you lose interest and that’s that, another unfinished task. Typically rigid work environments aren’t a good fit for people with undiagnosed ADHD. No matter how hard you try, you just always come up short.

He had me take two diagnostic tests and we spent more than 2 months reviewing them and going over my answers. Finally, he said, and I’ll never forget this exact wording, “There is no question. You have ADHD.” My first reaction was surprising. I felt…. relieved. Relieved that I finally knew what the issue was. Relieved that someone was caring and listening to me. Relieved that it had a name. I didn’t cry in his office, but I did in the car. Not uncontrollable sobbing, but tears of gratitude as it started to settle in that my life was about to change for the better.

Over the next few days, my relief remained but it was joined by a certain amount of grief and loss. I couldn’t help but look back over my life and ask “What if.” What if someone had noticed and caught this early? Would things be different? Would I be more successful? This was followed by anger at those who missed it my whole life. I quickly realized this line of questioning was counter-productive and moved on from it. You can’t change the past. Besides, I’m a small business owner doing what I love with my life. I am a father to a spunky 4-year-old and have been married for 15+ years. I am proud of where I am now and over the moon happy with my family life. Would things be different? Probably. Do I want things to be different? No.

Since then I have started taking medication to help with the chemical imbalance in my brain that causes ADHD, and I have found a handful of tools I rely on daily to help keep me organized and on task. Tools like a daily meditation practice and a bullet journal have been incredibly valuable. I’ve learned to harness my ability to hyperfocus and set it to work for me instead of against me. I have learned new ways to structure my day to fit how my brain works and permitted myself to be who I am without judgment.

Fast forward to September when I received a Call For Art notice from the New Hampshire Art Association for an art exhibition titled “MindFUL,” which enticed artists to explore mental health through artistic expression.

I knew right away that I wanted to participate. I looked through my back catalog of photos and nothing struck me as right for this show. Then I got this idea to show what was happening inside my head before my diagnosis. A single image that tells the story of what it was like to live with undiagnosed ADHD as an adult expected to be a functioning member of society. The cover photo above is the finished piece, hanging on the wall at NHAA on the opening night of “mindFUL.” Below is the digital image in all its darkness.

I made this photo in the hopes that someone will see it, relate to it, and maybe find the help they need to live their life free from the grip of constant emotional anguish. I showed it to my therapist as well as a couple of friends who also have ADHD and asked them one question, “Am I being truthful with this?” One of my friends answered that this is what it’s like in her head all day every day.

“mindFUL” is on display in the Levy Gallery at the New Hampshire Art Association in Portsmouth until November 27. If you get a chance, stop in and take a look. There are numerous powerful pieces throughout the exhibition. It’s an hour well spent taking it all in.

What follows is the description I attached to the back of the frame, explaining where this image came from and what each version of me is depicting.

”I have struggled with executive function my whole life. But, until my ADHD diagnosis in the spring of 2023, I didn’t know why, I just knew there was something wrong with me and it ate me up and wore me down inside.

This made me a mismatch for almost every job I‘ve ever held. It made keeping relationships alive very difficult. It meant I was forever coming up short of the expectations I, and others, placed on me. It meant I was never accomplishing what I wanted to do with my life and this constant struggle led to an avalanche of uncontrollable emotions which this self-portrait aims to portray.

• The first is anger and rage. Mostly directed at myself for being a f*(k up.
• The second is distractibility. Do you know how things can sometimes grab your attention and take you off task? Yeah, it’s like that only all day every day. Every little noise or shiny object takes me off task.
• The third is shame/embarrassment. Every day felt like a struggle, and I wasn’t able to meet my expectations or the expectations placed on me by others. This meant I was never "reaching my potential." The shame brought on by not being able to do what others seemed to do easily was all-encompassing at times.
• The fourth is depression/despair. As all this negativity and self-deprecation piled up, I would fall into states of despair. Sometimes for days without a break. Sometimes, I went to deep, dark, scary places in the recesses of my brain where the path back was completely obscured. This led to thoughts of self-harm that only added to the shame and self-hatred. Starting to see the doom loop?
• The fifth, the me in the chair, is exhaustion. This was a constant state where the weight of it all would wear me down to the point of giving up. I was living in a state of "nothing matters so why even try?" Obviously, this was not healthy, but after 40+ years I simply couldn't see any way out.

Since my diagnosis things have improved dramatically. Simply giving it a name, ADHD, was helpful. It provided a reason for the struggles where previously I could only look in the mirror and ask, “Why do I suck at everything?” It pointed me in a direction to find helpful tools to keep me on track, to set goals, and to start actually accomplishing them.

There are people in the world who don’t believe ADHD exists. Well, I can assure you it does. And for those who live with it undiagnosed they are living in a constant state of emotional crisis, and that is the story I wanted to tell with this self-portrait.”