- Nicole Nadler says she's long struggled to keep track of her belongings and get to places on time.
- She's had over 25 jobs and says she's almost missed major events because she couldn't stay focused.
This as-told-to essay is based on a conversation with Nicole Nadler. It has been edited for length and clarity.
When my granddad died, he left me this lovely charm bracelet. The sentimental value was huge; it'd been passed down to him, too. I adored it.
I'd barely had it a month before I lost it. I remember removing it to wash my hands, and then I never saw it again. My dad — his son — asked: "Why would you do that? How could you lose it?" My answer to such questions was always the same: "I don't know."
I remember being so frustrated that I was unable to articulate why. I didn't have the vocabulary to explain myself.
That was 20 years ago. For many of those 20 years, I'd ask myself the same question: Why am I like this?
My self-perception was negative
I always considered myself careless, irresponsible, flaky, untrustworthy. Truthfully, I'm not like that at all: I do care, and I can be trusted. But there was this constant clash between what the world told me I was; the cold, hard facts of my behavior; and how I really felt inside.
I'd constantly lose things. I now own six pairs of glasses because I lose them so often and can't see. I've owned 20 cellphones; I've either lost or broken them all.
Lateness is a real issue. I was suspended from school for being late too many times. I've had over 25 jobs. I've lost many due to lateness, or I'd get feedback that I'm disruptive. I'd ask questions the minute they entered my brain at work. Others internally probably say, "Let's wait; let's ask it privately." I'm unable to do that.
I've missed trains and almost missed weddings because I've been late. Sometimes I look back at the reason I was late and shame-spiral into oblivion. I was late because five minutes before I was due to leave the house I decided to paint my nails. It's almost laughable. And people did laugh. But they'd also sigh and roll their eyes. Nobody took me seriously.
Things first came crashing down at university. It was the first time I had to function for myself; I couldn't. It was so confusing and traumatic to see everyone else coping fine whilst I struggled to even register for class. Halfway through, I switched universities, convinced that my friends hated me or found me too annoying. But those people are still my friends today.
I realized I have ADHD
In 2011, my brother, who's five years younger, was diagnosed with attention-deficit/hyperactivity disorder.
A few years ago, aged 30, I stumbled upon an article during lockdown and realized I have ADHD. It was about a woman diagnosed late with ADHD and the broader issue of underdiagnosis in women. When she listed her symptoms, it was like I was reading about myself. It changed my life.
I was still afraid I was making it up, seeking attention, or looking to excuse that behavior. So I got officially diagnosed. That was two years ago.
My symptoms manifested differently than my brother's. He was physically hyperactive and inattentive. My hyperactivity was mostly internal: I may've sat still sometimes, but steam was coming out of my ears.
By comparing my brother's early diagnosis with my late one, I realized how I'd largely blamed myself — not my condition. So much came down to being dismissed, not taken seriously, or not heard properly as a female.
Now I take medication and see a therapist specializing in ADHD
I've had an up-and-down experience with medication. Friends with ADHD have said, "This little pill has transformed my life." I don't feel as strongly about mine. It definitely helps me focus. The pitfall is sometimes I'll focus on the wrong thing. I'll be on deadline at work and suddenly I'll find myself making the most elaborate meal for 90 minutes — with utter focus. I'm trying a different type of medication soon.
One of the things I was able to focus on was pulling together an Edinburgh Festival Fringe show, "Why Am I Like This?," explaining why it took so long to get my diagnosis. I got messages afterward saying, "My mom/husband finally understands," or "I've booked a diagnosis appointment." That's something good to come from all this.
What's been more impactful than medication is knowledge, awareness, and therapy. My therapist specializes in ADHD, which helps me unpick those things I felt were wrong about me. All those things I'd felt were character flaws were like a tickbox list of ADHD symptoms. I've started untelling myself those things.