ADHD left me burnt out, ashamed, and exhausted — I'm still coming to terms with my invisible disability

After two decades — and my fourth attempt at tertiary study — I was burnt out, consumed by a cycle of stress I didn't yet understand.

I struggled with depression, shame, and anxiety.

In search of answers, I talked to my psychologist, who suspected I may have Attention-Deficit/Hyperactivity Disorder (ADHD).

It was the first time anyone suggested the chemistry of my brain could be responsible for my challenges. 

I'd spent decades convinced by Asian work ethic stereotypes that I simply needed to try harder.

I thought my difficulties were personal flaws and I didn't realise how much of my life I'd been robbed of enjoying.

It never occurred to me that a chemical imbalance could be to blame.

Doing life on hard mode

Anything you can do freely requires much more effort from my brain but, before being diagnosed, I couldn't figure out why.

Everybody procrastinates, I told myself.

Secretly, I had great difficulty with seemingly simple tasks: some household jobs, quick phone calls and meeting deadlines.

I come from a cultural background that values determination and a strong work ethic, so I considered myself a failure; someone who lacked the desire to reach my goals.

It wasn't true, but I was sad, paralysed, frustrated — and avoidant. I hid my struggles by making myself constantly busy with other things.

Learning more about ADHD has helped me understand what's happening in my brain.

I interviewed Caitlin and Emma Hughes, the couple behind Cathartic Collaborations, a therapeutic service assisting neurodivergent people in Magandjin.

Caitlin, an accredited mental health social worker, compared life with ADHD to a challenging video game.

So, what is ADHD?

Associate Professor Savio Sardinha is a Yugambeh (Gold Coast) psychiatrist.

He explained ADHDers suffer from symptoms like inattention, impulsivity, and hyperactivity — which can be expressed in different combinations, affecting a range of areas in their lives.

In my experience, the symptoms can be quite debilitating.

I definitely didn't look like the enduring stereotype of ADHD: a naughty school-aged boy — restless, disruptive and scatterbrained.

Most people would say I'm polite and have a sharp memory, describing me as hard-working, with good attention to detail.

So it's no wonder my challenges weren't recognised by those closest to me.

Being capable but mentally unable to do the things I wanted to was constantly overwhelming.

But I've since learned these frustrations are common for people with ADHD.

The experts I interviewed advocate for better awareness of ADHD, particularly in education, medicine, and policy.

This is because the landscape is complex — the gaps in my own knowledge helped hide the invisible disability.

The complexities of identity and ADHD

Thinking I could keep a lid on it, I kept my challenges to myself. But they couldn't be contained.

I wasn't able to mask anymore and I fell apart.

Combined with behaviours inherited from my mixed cultural upbringing, I didn't know how to ask for help. I didn't know how to accept help either.

It was agonising for my loved ones to see me in this perpetual state.

I can relate to how Emma describes her experience with ADHD:

"It's constantly trying to … be better and do better, always chasing something that you can't quite catch, because it's just unfortunately outside [your brain's] capacity," she said.

Currently, the condition is viewed as something to be solved; clinical engagement and diagnosis is sought as a solution to a problem.

So, that's what I did.

Is ADHD a disability?

ADHD is the most common neurodevelopmental disorder in the country, but the condition "remains under-diagnosed and under-treated", according to the Royal Australian and New Zealand College of Psychiatrists (RANZCP).

ADHD affects the nervous system, making emotional regulation and executive functioning more difficult.

But is it a disability? It depends who you ask.

"They don't provide support for ADHD because it's a treatable condition."

Government data shows the number of people using psychostimulants to treat conditions like ADHD has continued to grow in recent years.

Dr Sardinha's theory is the confines of COVID-19 lockdown "probably unmasked a lot of the ADHD behaviour".

"It could very well be those environmental factors unmasked more of this pent up energy and unrestricted behaviour coming out, especially in children," he said.

Since neurology and genetics haven't changed much since the pandemic, he said social norms and culture are driving diagnoses.

"A fair critique is to say there is an increase in [recognised] behaviour, not necessarily the prevalence," Dr Sardinha said.

"Conversely, of course, because there is increase in awareness … [people] are seeking more help, and hence, there is more diagnosis."

So, while it might feel like there's more ADHDers these days, what's actually changed is how we understand the condition.

Intersectionality

Mental health classifications are based on the individual's symptoms, but Dr Sardinha said cultural dimensions affect how the condition manifests in people from different backgrounds. This can look different to the Western understanding of ADHD.

He said research found more acceptance of hyperactivity — a key symptom of ADHD — in some Indigenous groups in Western Australia.

"It might get under-diagnosed because there's higher tolerance of hyperactivity [in that group]," he said.

That might be why ADHD didn't occur to me earlier in life — I'd never seen myself represented in examples of ADHD.

My identity as a gay man added another level of intersectionality, which might've been further fuelling my desire to mask.

"In neurodivergent spaces, there's often a lot more gender and sexually diverse folks," Caitlin explained.

She said neurodivergent living can be "quite traumatic", and criticism of a person's sexual orientation or culture only adds to that.

Caitlin said neuro-affirming practitioners can help provide a safe space, and Emma said it's important to make that approach known so diverse patients can find a place where they will feel welcome.

"Culturally and linguistically diverse populations also have complex needs and barriers to receiving a diagnosis and subsequent treatment," a 2023 submission to a Senate inquiry about ADHD by RANZCP said.

The RANZCP also recommended ADHD be included in the NDIS "as an eligible psychosocial disability".

I think that's a good idea, but more than anything, I want people living with invisible disability to be kinder to themselves — life on "hard mode" is exactly that, so go easy on yourself and find what works for your specific circumstances.

This article was commissioned as part of the ABC's coverage and recognition of International Day of People with Disability (IDPwD).

Mark du Potiers is a visual artist born, raised, and based in Magandjin (Brisbane), Queensland, and has Australian, Hong Konger, and Chinese heritage. He was diagnosed with ADHD in his 30s.

Read more stories from the 2024 IDPwD campaign, to recognise the contributions and achievements of the 5.5 million Australians living with disability.

This story was produced with the assistance of Gemma Ferguson.