Invisible Difference and A Fragmented Sense of Self

Whilst ADHD is a form of neurodivergence and bipolar disorder is a mental illness, they are both ultimately a different way of being. And over time, especially during our formative years, we accrue messages about ourselves and our way of being in the world. Over time, these build to form a narrative, an internal story we tell ourselves about how we’ve been and who we are. Eventually these external messages inform our internal belief system, and fundamentally, our core identity.

 

During Ritalin Girls’ school years, she wasn’t popular with the teachers. Aged 14 she can remember showing up to a meeting with her form tutor only for her to begin with: “You know what the problem with you is?… The problem with you is that you just don’t listen”.

 

Teachers hold an incredible amount of power and too often they don’t realise the impact their words can have on a young person and their self-esteem.

 

In year 5, Ritalin Girl was immaturely passing notes back and forth with a classmate. I say “immaturely” but she was only 9 or 10… Ritalin Girl wrote about a classmate they were talking about: “I don’t know why but I just don’t like her”. Mr Willis, the South African teacher, picked up the piece of paper and, without any hesitation, declared to the class: “This is the worst type of person you can become. Someone who dislikes others for no reason”. Sure she had been immature and gossipy, but was she really “the worst type of person” out there?? Talk about black and white. She was “bad”.

 

Many with ADHD experience chronic invalidation as they continuously get pummelled with the message that something is ultimately wrong with them.

 

At home, Ritalin Girl was called “messy” and “stupid” so she really didn’t know what else to believe.

 

Muddling through without access to a diagnosis the invalidation continued chipping away at her confidence into her late teens and early 20s. She was bullied in various jobs from waitressing to office stints. She was spoken down to regularly reinforcing the idea that she must be “stupid”. When she went to work overseas in Madrid the unsympathetic landlord kicked her out of the flat late one night on the basis that she was intentionally lazy. In truth she was just overwhelmed with the move and the new job, and was struggling with depression.

 

Other times she was fired from jobs or conveniently “let go of”. She couldn’t seem to find a home, a space where she belonged. She led an itinerant lifestyle, always moving from gig to gig.

 

The message was crystal clear. Being herself. Being her authentic unmedicated self was unacceptable. She was “bad”. People blamed her for things. When she was hypomanic people gossiped about her behaviour afterwards and guilt tripped her. The criticism was on tap constantly like a bitter drink she didn’t want to drink but was forced to consume daily.

 

And because of this, Ritalin Girl’s identity became fragmented. She became an adept actress, a bit of a chameleon. Constantly on high alert, taking cues from body language, tone of voice and facial expressions. How were people receiving her? What was the best way to present herself at any given moment?  And although exhausting and disingenuous this tactic became very useful.

 

Her sense of self did not emerge from her childhood, where she grew up, her upbringing, peer group or any of these so-called “normal parameters” because the past just felt too painful.

 

Instead her identity came from cues around her. Who were her friends? Who was she going out with? What was her job? Where did she work? Who were her colleagues? Where did she like to shop?

 

The problem with basing your identity off of these things is that it’s ultimately superficial and ephemeral. Jobs change, friendship groups change, surroundings change, fashion changes. Nothing is constant, you’re constantly rolling with the new. In a constant flux of change and reinvention.

 

After losing her last job, Ritalin Girl self-harmed. Her response was visceral. She felt she’d lost a core part of herself and again the message was that she was “bad”. “Not one of them” she thought. She briefly dated a man, “AA battery” in this blog, who she developed a strong attachment to. When he called things off “because he wasn’t ready for another relationship” having just come out of a 4 year one, she took it particularly hard.

 

But there are ways to work on it. Medication helps as does seeing a trusted therapist. It’s never too late to build on a core identity.