Let’s stop assuming that because we can’t see the impact of ADHD on a child that their symptoms are mild and much simpler to navigate.
The assumption that kids with ADHD are doing fine because it all looks OK, is a very dangerous one to make:
They may be achieving well in school, but we don’t know what they’ve missed that’s keeping them from achieving their potential.
They may be learning well, but it’s at the cost of their mental wellbeing because they are secretly struggling to keep it all together.
Or maybe a treatment plan that included medication was what they needed to achieve at their best but we felt that their lost items, social struggles or inconsistent school results weren’t serious enough to warrant that kind of support.
“The fact is, we don’t really know the internal impact of ADHD on our children and they might not really understand it either, especially if their presentations aren’t as visible.”
The fact is, we don’t really know the internal impact of ADHD on our children and they might not really understand it either, especially if their presentations aren’t as visible.
If we’re basing our decisions for treatment and support solely on what we see, we’ll be missing all that we don’t and this decision will impact their ability to thrive.
Each child with ADHD is different. Their life situation, environment, learning ability, talents and any co-occurring conditions will impact how their ADHD manifests too. I can’t tell what your child, or even my own goes through in his ADHD brain every day, but I can share a little about growing up with mine.
Growing up with ADHD – A Glimpse Inside my Childhood Brain
When I was a kid, I never realised that my brain went non-stop.
There was always something on my mind and I assumed everyone else’s brain was the same. I was always day-dreaming of myself in places or with people a lot more interesting than where I was at that moment. But when I got in trouble, was worried, frustrated or even excited about something, it was all I could think about. It would go through my head on repeat, either by setting often unrealistic expectations for how something should be or ruminating for hours on a mistake I had made.
“I would impulsively try to solve a problem or find a way to make myself feel better and this showed up in a lot of addictive behaviours.”
Often, I would impulsively try to solve a problem or find a way to make myself feel better and this showed up in a lot of addictive behaviours. These may have made me feel good at the time but ended with me feeling even worse later on.
Everything was either amazing or awful and there was no in between.
Eventually I learned to think about myself in these terms too. I either did everything wrong or everything was perfect and the feedback from those around me determined my self-assessment. Anything done in between those extremes heightened my feelings of not being good enough and as I grew older this led to my anxiety.
My brain went so fast and showed things so vividly, I often forgot where I was, how much time had passed or what was said to me moments before.
My brain could get so loud, that people would call my name while next to me numerous times and I couldn’t hear them. Sometimes I would think I was answering but I would eventually clue in that I was responding in my head! Meanwhile, I wouldn’t even notice that the person would be frustrated waiting for me. I wouldn’t be able to tell you how long they had waited for me in the first place.
My lack of focus and attention often meant that I missed key pieces of information too. This led to me having to ask to get something repeated or risk doing the tasks and getting something wrong.
Looking back, I often annoyed the people around me with forgetting information, not appearing like I was listening, or misunderstanding directions and social cues, but I never understood exactly what it was I did. I never remembered what I said or the sequence of events that would eventually lead to me not meeting someone’s expectations.
My brain latched onto these situations, constantly debating them, reminding me of all the people who grew tired of me or I had let down, the tasks I’d messed up, and the meltdowns I’d had. These stories became how I defined myself. If these things kept occuring and I couldn’t stop them from happening, then I felt that I was the problem.
Learning
I never realised how much my brain worked to avoid the pain that came with feeling bored.
I never knew that my brain kept moving to keep itself stimulated even if that meant zoning out on things that were important to me. This made learning more of a struggle than it should have been, only I never realised it. I just assumed everyone else was better at it than me, I needed to try harder and I just wasn’t as smart as I thought I was.
As I got older, to keep from falling asleep in classes or being distracted, I began writing everything the teacher said. If my brain wasn’t on non-stop, I would be exhausted. I could never predict the timing of either.
“I just couldn’t understand why I wasn’t able to do (tasks) consistently. How could I get bored with things I loved as quickly as with things I didn’t?”
I also couldn’t predict when I would hyperfocus into school or personal interests either, this inconsistency was hard to explain to others and even harder for me to understand myself. For example, I loved to read and could read for hours – sometimes – but reading could also be a chore and there were times I couldn’t force myself to do it.
I also loved to write and as a kid I thought I was good at it. I just couldn’t understand why I wasn’t able to do this consistently. How could I get bored with things I loved as quickly as with things I didn’t? This would happen in a lot of different areas of my life: with people, healthy habits or career choices and I always struggled to make sense of this. This made me begin to doubt myself, unable to trust that I could accomplish things I wanted to do in my life.
Memory Problems
My inattentive ADHD came with what must have looked like ‘selective memory’ to those around me. I could remember some things I was interested in, and this sometimes helped for school, but I struggled with things like multistep directions, important dates or retaining information for school exams.
I could remember to do some things that I wanted to do for myself, but I often forgot tasks I had to do for others. Chores I’d done growing up over and over again, had to be explained to me a few times before I got them right.
My consistency in how I completed tasks was all over the place too. Everyone expected me to remember certain day to day things, but when I forgot I never connected how much this impacted people around me. Every time someone was upset with me, it felt new to me. I never knew that this would make me appear selfish and when people said this to me, I couldn’t understand why they would think that. I never planned on not paying attention or not remembering. It was a mistake. I just didn’t realise that I was making these kinds of mistakes more often than people around me. To compensate for this, I began to second guess myself.
“I put pressure on myself to not make mistakes like forgetting or missing details. I became a perfectionist in hopes of avoiding feeling like I had let people down and tried to please them.”
Issues with Emotions
Inattentive ADHD, for me as a kid, also meant that I struggled with regulating my emotions. I felt them so intensely. Joy felt momentous and I never wanted it to end, while things that were painful, worrying or difficult would leave me feeling crippled inside.
When I was younger, I would often have meltdowns when I experienced disappointment from others. But as I got older and learned that this wasn’t acceptable, I would turn that pain inwards.
The intensity of these feelings carried so much weight. My brain would be lost in thoughts of ruminations, dreams of what could be or simply thinking of how I could change things. But the frustrating thing about my thoughts were that they rarely made me take action to change anything.
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