Author: J

  • The Initial Post-Diagnosis Years pt. 4

    The Side Effects Roll In

    As the weeks went by, I started noticing side effects.

    • Migraines – If I didn’t drink enough water or eat enough protein before taking my meds, I’d get a splitting headache.
    • Sleep Issues – Even if I took the stimulant at 6 AM, I still wouldn’t be able to fall asleep until 3 AM.

    Then, the aggression kicked in.

    One evening, I felt an unbreakable, angry drive to finish something. I was irritated by everything that tried to pull my focus. It didn’t feel like me at all.

    I finally understood what my son had described the night he broke down.

    Needless to say, I switched to an amphetamine-based stimulant. And just like that, the aggression faded.

    With my doctor’s guidance, I experimented with several amphetamines to optimize my sleep schedule and minimize side effects. Things improved, but migraines were still an issue—especially if I wasn’t careful about hydration and diet.

    I started taking meds only on the days I really needed them, which helped. Things were finally settling in.

    But little did I know—everything was about to change again.

    • What’s the most frustrating ADHD medication side effect you’ve dealt with? Did you find a way to manage it?
    • How do you balance the benefits of ADHD medication with the potential downsides?
    • Do you manage your ADHD without medication? What methods and/or supplements work well for you?

  • The Initial Post-Diagnosis Years pt. 3

    Starting My Own Medication Trial

    Through all of this, I held onto one crucial piece of advice from my son’s specialist:

    “ADHD medication should make you feel like yourself—just calmer and more focused. If you feel anxious, angry, or unlike yourself, there are many other alternatives to try.”

    That stuck with me as I began my own stimulant trial. It also made me understand why so many people are hesitant to try ADHD meds—I had already seen the worst of the side effects up close.

    The first few months on medication felt potentially life-changing. I had chemical blinders for my brain! Suddenly, I could filter out distractions and actually complete tasks. My mind—usually a chaotic swirl of half-finished thoughts—was, dare I say, quiet.

    But with relief came a flood of regret. I kept thinking: What if I had known this sooner? How different would my life have been if I had access to this kind of support when I was younger? The weight of those thoughts was heavy.

    I couldn’t rewrite the past, but I could take control of what happened next.

    Like my son, I had to go through trial and error before finding the right fit. While he was reaching his limit on methylphenidate, I was just getting started on it.

    The clarity was indescribable. I had no idea my brain was capable of single focus and sustained attention. Until that day, I couldn’t even read a single page without my mind wandering—unless I was completely dialed into the story.

    I had to test my new ability. I picked up an old textbook (for fun?!?), read an entire chapter, and retained all of it. Mind. Blown. I was immediately jealous of neurotypical brains and finally understood why I struggled so much in my youth.

    • If you’ve tried ADHD medication, what was the most surprising effect—good or bad?
    • Have you ever had to switch medications due to unexpected side effects? How did you know it was time to try something different?
    • What’s one piece of advice you wish you had when you first started ADHD treatment?

  • The Initial Post-Diagnosis Years pt. 2

    Trial and Error

    The first stimulant my son tried turned his academic world on its head. As I mentioned in the “part 3” post about his diagnosis, he couldn’t believe how easy it was to focus and think more “linearly” with his first dose. That prescription worked well for him for about six months.

    What I didn’t see was the side effects creeping in. At first, he hesitated to tell me how he was feeling. The changes were slow, subtle—he didn’t have the words to describe them. But over time, the drive to finish something, no matter the circumstances, took over. He started feeling aggression and, worse, suicidal ideation.

    Despite my open-door approach to emotions, he kept these feelings bottled up—afraid that speaking up might cost him his newfound academic success. Until one night, he couldn’t hold it in anymore.

    He was nine years old. Normally, he was easygoing and rarely got too upset. But that evening, he was inconsolable, sobbing uncontrollably. At first, he couldn’t even tell me why. I pulled him into my lap, held him tightly, and just let him cry. After what felt like hours, he finally caught his breath. And then, in the smallest voice, he told me:

    “Mom, you need to keep sharp objects away from me.”

    My heart stopped. I felt numb, but I knew I had to stay calm. Gently, I asked him why.

    He confessed that he had been feeling like making mistakes was inexcusable—that he needed to punish himself if he got something wrong. And not just punished—he felt he might as well die if he didn’t get something right.

    In my head, I was screaming. Frightened. Angry. How could my little boy—so young, so innocent—be feeling like this? Where did this belief come from? I had always encouraged growth through mistakes. Lots of mistakes. Never perfection.

    The next day, we saw his specialist. He immediately stopped taking his medication for two weeks. Within a day of being off it, he started feeling like himself again—I was relieved beyond words. But I was still shaken to my core.

    His doctor suggested trying a different prescription—this time, an amphetamine-based stimulant instead of the methylphenidate he was initially prescribed. We agreed, but with extreme caution. This time, I monitored him closely and checked in with him often about his emotional well-being. 

    Thankfully, we found the right fit. It took trial and error, but for the past seven years, he’s been doing incredibly well on his medication—and seeing him succeed has been everything.

    • If you or a loved one has gone through an ADHD medication trial, what was the biggest challenge?
    • How do you navigate conversations about mental health and medication with your kids or family members?
    • Were you or a family member hesitant to try stimulant medication? If you were and decided to try them, did your perspective change? 
  • The Initial Post-Diagnosis Years

    The Initial Post-Diagnosis Years

    Acceptance and Next Steps

    My ADHD diagnosis brought a wave of relief—along with plenty of regret, as I described in my Late-Diagnosed ADHD entry. Finally, I could let go of so many negative thoughts about myself and my perceived shortcomings. And with stimulant medication? It was a game-changer. The difference was astonishing. I finally understood what it felt like to focus like a neurotypical person—and honestly, I was jealous.

    But finding the right medication wasn’t instant. It took trial and error, something my son had already been through before me. His experience shaped my understanding of what to expect and made me more aware of the risks and challenges that come with ADHD treatment.

    • If you’ve been diagnosed with ADHD as an adult, did you experience an initial wave of regret or relief—or both?
    • What’s something you learned about yourself post-diagnosis that completely changed your perspective?
    • Have you ever felt frustrated after discovering how different life could have been with earlier support? How do you cope with those feelings?
  • Late Diagnosed ADHD and Me pt. 3

    Late Diagnosed ADHD and Me pt. 3

    A Diagnosis in Adulthood

    I think I have always suspected that I had ADHD or some form of neurodivergence. The coping mechanisms I developed over the years helped excuse the possibility of it being true, but it was undeniable at this point. It was very difficult to digest once I realized it—how different would my life have been had I known this sooner?

    Finally… finally. After 40-some odd years, I could stop beating myself up over a plethora of things that were essentially out of my control. My ADHD diagnosis came with so many mixed feelings. I was relieved to have an answer for why I am the way I am, but I deeply mourned the loss of who I could have been. That last part hit hard as I reflected on all the things I heard and internalized over the years. My self-esteem, shaped by misunderstandings, had taken a heavy toll. I felt bitter. My five stages of grief began.

    This was no one’s fault. My parents, teachers, mentors—they guided me to the best of their ability with the experience and knowledge they had at the time. I did the best I could, too. I thought a lot about the Chinese proverb: The best time to plant a tree was 20 years ago. The second-best time is today.

    Acceptance came slowly, but it came. I thought about what I could still try to do in my 40s and how I could approach these goals. Why continue to regret the past when there are still possibilities before me? I also had an example to set.

    Most importantly, my son had the advantage of knowing his brain was wired a little differently before he hit puberty. We still had time to understand his learning style and get him the accommodations he might need to achieve his goals. Knowing that was far more important to me—and I could learn more about my own quirks along the way.

    So now, here I am. Big girl pants are ON. Well, for the most part anyway.

    • If you’ve been diagnosed with ADHD (or any condition) as an adult, what emotions did you experience?
    • What do you wish you had known earlier in life?
    • How have you worked to reframe past struggles into a more compassionate understanding of yourself?
  • Late Diagnosed ADHD and Me pt. 2

    Late Diagnosed ADHD and Me pt. 2

    Cracks in the System

    Being a mom is bar none the most rewarding job I had ever held—and by far the most overwhelming. My intense focus on my son’s physical, cognitive, emotional, and social development left little capacity for household management and self-care. I chalked it up to first-time parenthood, a lack of nearby support, and living in a metropolitan area filled with young professionals. My closest friends lived at least an hour away, none of them had kids, and family members who could help were on the other side of the continent. I told myself what I was experiencing was completely normal for my situation.

    Or was it?

    As the rigorous schedule of early babyhood eased, the gaps in my executive functioning became undeniable. The perpetual piles of clean, unfolded laundry. The blur of scheduled and unscheduled enrichment activities. The constant feeling of being more than a little out of step with cleaning, organization, and budgeting. These weren’t just growing pains—they were signs.

    By the time my son received his diagnosis, I had convinced myself that parenthood simply meant existing in this constant state of barely managed chaos. I often wondered how working moms pulled it off, thinking back to colleagues who seemed to juggle everything with ease. Looking back, there’s no doubt in my mind that my ability to parent would have been drastically compromised if I had gone back to work. And let’s be honest, my home would’ve been in even worse shape.

    • What routines or expectations did you find yourself struggling with as a new parent?
    • Have you ever misattributed your struggles to external circumstances, only to later realize they were signs of something more?
  • Late-Diagnosed ADHD and Me

    Late-Diagnosed ADHD and Me

    The Mirror of Motherhood

    This part of my story likely feels familiar to so many late-diagnosed women with school-aged kids. Watching our children navigate behaviors that pointed to ADHD often brought back vivid memories of our own struggles in school. Like my son, I had been labeled “very bright” but found it difficult to thrive in a traditional classroom. I could see myself in his silly, impulsive actions, his chatterbox tendencies, his intense focus on certain subjects, and his complete disengagement with anything boring.

    At first, I dismissed it as normal kid behavior. After all, wasn’t I like that as a child too? But as his diagnosis became clearer, a little voice inside me asked: What if this isn’t just about him?

    When I first suspected my son was neurodivergent, I dove into research. Many of the signs and symptoms I read about felt familiar—his struggles mirrored my own. Yet, I chalked it up to “typical kid behavior.” Besides, I’d done okay, hadn’t I? I’d managed to earn decent grades in college, especially in the subjects I loved. I’d even thrived in the corporate world—collaborating well with colleagues, meeting deadlines, and steadily climbing the ladder.

    But the cracks in what I thought was a carefully managed system became clearer when I left the workforce to become a stay-at-home mom. Initially, the plan was to return to work, hire a nanny, or try daycare. But once I met my baby and settled into our routine, that went out the window. I loved working directly with my new boss and decided to embrace this role full-time. Fortunately, we were in a position that allowed me to make that choice.

    • If you’re a parent, have you ever seen your own behaviors or tendencies reflected in your child? How did it make you feel?
    • What was your initial reaction when you learned your child might be neurodivergent?

  • How it All Started pt. 3

    How it All Started pt. 3

    Diagnosis, Medication, and Personal Reflection

    With her support, I had him assessed. The results confirmed what I’d suspected: he had ADHD. For my son, the diagnosis was a turning point. Understanding that his struggles stemmed from a lack of executive functioning—not a lack of intelligence—immediately boosted his confidence. He began to believe in himself again.

    Since he was already an active kid, we decided to try stimulant medication, starting with a trial run on a Saturday. It was an instant game-changer. Math homework and writing assignments that once took hours, with plenty of tears, were completed in just 30 minutes. For the first time, he had concrete proof that he was as smart as we’d always told him—and a clear explanation for why he had struggled.

    As he made his way through the remainder of fourth grade, his engagement in the classroom and self-esteem improved significantly. Although the meds made a substantial difference, there were (and still are) plenty of challenges that go along with ADHD. As we discovered the areas he needed the most guidance, I saw so much of myself in his struggles. It gave me endless empathy for the ups and downs he would face.

    As I helped him navigate his challenges, I couldn’t help but reflect on my own. The more I learned about ADHD, the more I started questioning things about myself. It made me wonder: could my life have been different?? Through it all, his resilience amazed me—and his experience taught me to take a closer look at my own.

    • How did you feel when you first received a diagnosis for your child? What was the biggest relief for you, and what still challenges you?
    • For those who’ve tried ADHD medication for your child, what changes did you notice? How did it affect their schoolwork and self-esteem?
    • Have you ever found yourself reflecting on your own experiences as a parent and wondering if you might have ADHD too? I’d love to hear your thoughts or stories!
  • How it All Started pt. 2

    How it All Started pt. 2

    School Struggles and the ADHD Question

    As he grew older, managing his allergies became second nature to both of us. But new challenges emerged when he started school.

    The transition to preschool was easy for him—he was a social kid, and the small, close-knit class felt like family. Many of the same children moved up through the elementary grades together, and for a while, everything seemed fine. But a few years into elementary school, he began to struggle.

    When he was interested in a subject and could stay focused, he thrived. But when the topic didn’t catch his attention, his work went unfinished. Sustained focus became a challenge, and once he fell behind, it was like a mental block appeared. He’d convince himself he just couldn’t understand the lesson.

    Evenings at home were often frustrating—for both of us. One moment he’d fly through his math worksheets like a tiny machine, but the next, he’d forget concepts he’d been confidently applying just minutes before. I tried my best to help, explaining things as clearly as I could. But when my explanations only seemed to frustrate him more, I couldn’t help but feel like I was failing him.

    I understood his struggle all too well—I’d experienced the same thing in school. My parents believed I needed to figure things out on my own, but I was determined to take a different approach with my son. Still, one of my long-standing anxieties loomed: Does my son have ADHD?

    For the next few years, I asked his teachers about the possibility. Did his behavior and work patterns match those of children they’d taught with ADHD? Were his struggles typical of kids his age? Most assured me I was jumping to conclusions and suggested that time and self-discipline would fix the issue. My gut told me otherwise, but I needed a recommendation from the school to pursue an assessment.

    Meanwhile, I watched his self-esteem wither. As he moved up through grades, his confidence in his schoolwork dwindled. By fourth grade, my concern had reached its peak. During a parent-teacher conference, his teacher gently brought up the possibility of ADHD. I was so relieved I could have cried. Finally, someone else saw what I had been seeing all along.

    • Has your child faced similar struggles in school? How did you handle moments of frustration or self-doubt?
    • If you’ve ever wondered about ADHD in your child, what signs or behaviors made you start to ask questions?
    • For parents who have had similar experiences, how did you approach getting an ADHD assessment? What advice would you give to someone just starting that journey?
  • How it All Started

    How it All Started

    Is my son just living his best kid life? Or is it ADHD??

    The Early Years and First Challenges

    When I was pregnant with my first (and only), my mind raced constantly. I’m guessing most rookie moms share similar anxieties when expecting their firstborn—or maybe I was just a little neurotic! Either way, I was beyond relieved when my baby finally arrived: 10 fingers, 10 toes, and a healthy 8 pounds. There were only minor complications, which affected me more than my fresh little boy.

    He did have quite the head, though. During my last ultrasound, the tech even asked if my due date was wrong—his head was so big she thought I might deliver sooner. I assured her the date was right, and I could practically hear her silent prayer for my lady parts.

    Fast forward about a year, and most of my worries about year-one milestones never came to pass. Phew! My son was a happy, giggly little guy who hit all his developmental marks, got plenty of tummy time, and even slept well (most of the time).

    At 13 months life threw us a bit of a challenge. One of my greatest fears came true: he had an anaphylactic reaction to peanuts. Over time, we also learned he was severely allergic to all nuts and sesame.

    Managing my anxiety around his allergies wasn’t easy, but over time, I taught him how to stay safe with the foods he ate away from home. Eventually, he became more careful than I was, which helped ease my constant worry.

    • Have you experienced similar challenges with your child’s allergies or health? How did you manage your own anxiety around their well-being?
    • What’s been the hardest part of your child’s first year for you? How did you find a sense of balance between your own worries and their needs?
    • Have any of you had to make lifestyle changes for your child’s allergies? I’d love to hear what worked for you!