Adult Autism & ADHD

You’ve been hearing more about Autism and ADHD in the news and on social media – where you’re wondering if your FYP algorithm is trying to tell you something. The more you watch, read, and learn, the bigger the swings in your emotions become. From the elation, relief, and camaraderie of feeling represented and seen – even celebrated – for the very things you’ve been bullied into hiding your whole life, you see-saw into a flood of self-doubt and skepticism.

Preoccupied with this possibility  that could reconfigure your understanding of yourself, you’re more distracted, irritable, and easily overstimulated. Dealing with your own tangled feelings and conscious of how limited the awareness of ADHD and Autism in adults is – even more so for women and BIPOC – you end up pulling back from the people you’d normally confide in, unsure what their responses or the impact on your relationships would be. When you were growing up, Autism and ADHD were only for little, train-obsessed or hyperactive white boys. 

Anxious and afraid, you’ve tried to push it down, but there’s a growing gut feeling that this could explain so much. Stuck in the uncertainty, you’re obsessively examining your behavior now and running through past actions from yesterday and decades prior, in search of some definitive proof one way or another.

You didn’t see anything unusual about the behaviors your child’s teacher pointed out when initially suggesting you get them tested for ADHD or Autism. After all, you had similar tendencies when you were a kid – like exclusively using “the good spoon” to eat or inserting bird facts into any and every conversation. Your kid may be a little quirky and have a tough time making and keeping friends, but you were a late bloomer too and your extended family is full of eccentric characters.

As you learn more about Autism and ADHD though, it’s getting progressively harder to ignore that insistent suspicion that a lot is starting to line up, not only for your child, but for you. You scold yourself for wasting time wondering about yourself when you’re trying to support your kid. And anyway, unlike them, you don’t need school accommodations, so there’s really no point to assessment and diagnosis as an adult… Right?

You’ve taken the (confusingly worded) online assessments and gone on a deep dive into the research, maybe even assembled a binder or spreadsheet. After claiming this identity for yourself though — whether self-diagnosing or going through an “official” assessment — you’re left with a new question: Now what?

There’s so much to unpack with this paradigm-shift that you don’t know where to start. Recognizing your neurodivergence as an adult means you’ve experienced years and years of missed and mis-diagnoses and their impacts. Just because the difference hadn’t been accurately named yet didn’t protect you from being perennially misunderstood, confused, and judged for it. Decades of being frustrated and shamed for trying your hardest and still not being able to contort yourself fully into neurotypical expectations takes a toll.

As you acknowledge your own neurodivergence, it’s common to somehow feel both imposter syndrome (i.e. not neurodivergent enough) and more Autistic or ADHD than before, stimming more openly or not forcing yourself to make as much eye contact. Unmasking can be joyful and freeing, as well as overwhelming and destabilizing, especially as you navigate how (and to whom) to disclose your newfound identity. Perhaps you feel frustrated to find another “closet” to come out of, or weary as you confront yet another marginalized facet of your intersectional identity.

While figuring out your neurodivergence can absolutely be a game-changer, it doesn’t magically resolve all of life’s problems. There’s undoubtedly other things going on in your life. Whether it’s navigating conflict and communication in a mixed neurotype relationship, exploring your gender identity and expression, or unpacking religious trauma, you shouldn’t have to pretend you’re neurotypical to get help in therapy. 

Maybe your past therapists had outdated notions about ADHD and Autism, were well-meaninged but unfamiliar with neurodivergence, or it was before you’d figured out this part of your identity. You’ve done the CBT workbooks and been lectured plenty about not fulfilling your potential, but still don’t know how to answer “how do you feel?” But you’ve had your fill of being frustrated with the tired, unrealistic advice and assignments from therapists and other supports in your life.