Neurodivergence for the wildcard indeed!

What neurodivergence feels like a lot of the time: life led kinda sideways.

I've had a couple of interesting conversations about neurodivergence this week—some overtly so, some more subtle.

Like so many people—especially women—I was diagnosed with ADHD very late in life. And with Autism a couple of years later. Both diagnoses made so much sense, while also feeling like rug-pull moments: wth? (Thank you, therapist number 451, for your gentle question: 'Have you ever been tested for ADHD?')

The recent overt conversations were in and around a treasured writing group, the dawn-riding PJ Writers. We're largely women of a certain age, and several in the group were wondering about ADHD, and whether they might have it. I offered to share a test I was given by my GP; there was a good bit of interest, and a couple of them emailed me about it to explore it further.

One asked me to share any insights, supports, or even strengths I might have. An ideal question—and one I was surprised to need to think about to answer.

It happens to be a favourite topic of mine, which makes me true to the adage, "How do you know someone has Autism? They will tell you." And then we will likely info-dump on you.

[Quick thoughts: we can be good at empathy (sometimes cripplingly so—and I rewrote that term four times, knowing it's ableist but not finding a more accurate description); creativity (ideas are our friends and nemeses); fresh perspectives (which can also be very unique ones that make us feel isolated). Clearly sub-thoughts are also a strength, vis the parentheses. Insights? The current world has not been built for us—thus that sideways feeling I mentioned. And also, we are fucking legion. We may even be the majority.]

The more roundabout conversations were me sharing some of my boundaries with a new client—boundaries which are directly related to my AuDHD.

The edict/strict self-preservation policy I've given myself is this: I do not work nights or weekends. Saturdays I absolutely do not get out of bed, and I eat whatever the hell I want. There are zero responsibilities, and the only decisions I make are whether to stream or read, and what to eat from the stack of snacks next to the bed. This day is quite polarizing: it's admired, if quizzically, by those in my broader circles; and reviled as laziness by those closest to me. And I dgaf, because I haven't had a breakdown in the many years since I started doing this. (Autistic overwhelm is very common, and often leads to months of catatonia. It can appear very similar to depression, with which I was previously misdiagnosed—and which then led the very delightful diagnosis of 'treatment resistant depression.' How's that for hopeless. And all I needed was Cheesies and back-to-back episodes of The Rookie.)

Have you wondered if you might be neurodivergent? Try the screener below, and follow a few relevant social media accounts.