ADHD Is Not a Trend. It’s a Nervous System on Fire.

And everything I’ve learnt from living it, supporting it, and unlearning the crap we were taught.

🧠 What we used to believe and who that hurt

Fifteen years ago, I heard the word “ADHD” for the first time. One of my friends had it. She was chaotic, obsessive, and liked things just so. That was the image I held onto.
At the time, I didn’t know ADHD was more than hyper kids and unfinished homework. I didn’t know adults could have it. Or women. Or care workers. I definitely didn’t know it could be quiet, internal, and misunderstood, or that someone like me could have it too.

Back then, people thought ADHD meant no boundaries, no impulse control, no hope. That you “couldn’t say no” to someone with it. That they had to stick to a schedule or they’d explode. That teaching them flexibility was cruel.
It’s all rubbish.

I’ve said no to ADHD.
I’ve taught boundaries, not through punishment, but with kindness, consistency, and a lot of bloody hard work.
Because here’s the thing: you can teach someone with ADHD how to cope with change. You just have to do it before the cooker top gets touched. You have to teach it when it’s calm, not when it’s crisis.

Routines are great. But if you never build in flexibility, the first time something changes? You get a full-scale breakdown. And I’ve been there, both sides of it.

🕰️ A Brief History of “WTF is ADHD?”

1902 – A British doctor named George Still described kids who were impulsive, emotional, and couldn’t control themselves, but were otherwise clever. He called it a “moral defect.” (Cheers, George. Way to set the tone.)

1930s–50s – Scientists gave kids Benzedrine (yep, actual amphetamines) and discovered it magically calmed them down. Nobody knew why. Nobody asked. They just kept handing it out.

Why did it work? No idea. But if I had to guess… something something nervous system, something something capitalism..

1960s – We renamed it Minimal Brain Dysfunction. Because nothing says compassion like implying your brain is barely functioning.

1980 (DSM-III) – ADD (Attention Deficit Disorder) makes it into the psych bible. You could now be officially diagnosed with being distracted, with or without the hyper bit.

1994 (DSM-IV) – They shuffle the labels again and land on ADHD, with three subtypes:

• Inattentive type

• Hyperactive-impulsive type

• Combined type

But still… mostly for kids. Adults with ADHD? Apparently just didn’t exist. They were probably too busy losing their keys and forgetting appointments to make it to the diagnosis.

2000s – Someone finally goes: “Wait… it doesn’t go away?” Slowly, awareness spreads. But it’s still mostly diagnosed in loud little boys, not girls, not adults, and definitely not your quietly overwhelmed coworker who hasn’t eaten a vegetable in three days.

2010s–now – We start getting it. ADHD isn’t just hyper kids and unfinished homework. It can look like:

• Emotional chaos

• Time blindness

• Chronic burnout

• Sensory overload

• Paralysis when overwhelmed

• Forgetting why you walked into the room, again

Social media blows the door open. Diagnosis rates soar. Especially for women, especially in their 30s, especially after years of thinking they were just “bad at life.”

So… when did ADHD become a thing?
It never wasn’t. We just kept calling it other names, punishing the people who had it, or pretending it was a childhood quirk they’d grow out of. (Spoiler: they didn’t.)

🔎 So what is ADHD, officially?

If you’re reading this and quietly wondering, for yourself, your child, your partner, here’s what we actually mean when we talk about ADHD.

ADHD stands for Attention Deficit Hyperactivity Disorder.
Despite the name, it’s not really about a lack of attention. It’s more like attention gone rogue.
Too much. Too little. All at once. On the wrong things. At the worst possible time.

The NHS (and a bunch of very serious diagnostic manuals) usually break it down into three main types:

• Inattentive type – easily distracted, forgetful, disorganized, mentally elsewhere

• Hyperactive-impulsive type – fidgety, restless, loud, talks over people, acts before thinking

• Combined type – a bit of both (this is the most common)

But real life doesn’t always line up with neat checklists. People with ADHD might also:

• Cry at the wrong time

• Forget the one thing they walked into the shop for

• Be twenty minutes early or two hours late, never in between

• React to textures like they’re being personally attacked by trousers

• Hyper-focus on spreadsheets or sharks or vintage hoovers

• Go completely blank when faced with “easy” tasks like sending an email

• Feel totally paralyzed by “just do it” advice and then hate themselves for not doing it

It’s not just a behavior thing. It’s a brain wiring thing.

Just because you can’t always see it doesn’t mean it isn’t there.
And it shows up differently in different people, especially girls and women, who are often missed because they internalize it instead of acting out.

“ADHD doesn’t mean lazy, chaotic, or broken. It means your brain runs on different rules, and you’ve probably been punished for them your whole life.”

👀 What ADHD really looks like

Not the textbook. Not the stereotypes. Just real people I’ve known, supported, worked with, and been.

• Stimming. Flapping. Excitement that starts at 8am and doesn’t stop till bedtime

• Overthinking. Obsessing. Fixating on things they love: trains, aeroplanes, sharks, birthday cakes

• Constant fidgeting, tapping, chewing, bouncing, the whole human percussion set

• Blurting things out mid-conversation, or shouting “banana” in Tesco because their brain said so

• Forgetting homework, shoes, where they left their coat, what day it is

• Starting six games or projects and finishing none (unless it’s sharks or Minecraft, then it’s PhD-level focus)

• Meltdowns when routines change or plans fall apart

• Not coping with last-minute change, not because they’re being difficult, but because their brain was already full

• Communication breakdowns that explode into anger

• Emotional honesty so raw it makes strangers cry in supermarkets

Sometimes it looks like a chaotic child.
Sometimes it looks like a quiet one who’s drifting.
Sometimes it looks like a high-achieving adult quietly falling apart.

ADHD isn’t one thing. Every person is different. But I can tell you this: the people I’ve supported with ADHD? They’re often the most creative, loving, fiercely curious people you’ll ever meet.

They just need a world that understands how they operate.
Not one that punishes them for being born with a different instruction manual.

⚠️ Where the system fails us

Most adults over 35 who have ADHD? Never got diagnosed. Especially if they were girls. Especially if they were quiet. Especially if they were working-class and just “got on with it.”

Back then, ADHD meant noise. Disruption. Naughty boys bouncing off the walls. So if you were the quiet one, the polite one, the kid who stared out the window daydreaming about flamingos or space or how bricks are made, they didn’t think ADHD.
They thought: good girl. Shy. Anxious maybe. Bit slow, bit forgetful.

But you weren’t.
You were overwhelmed.
You were masking.
You were drowning in brain noise and no one noticed.

Employers still don’t get it.
Mental health services often miss it entirely.
And schools? Some are still rewarding compliance instead of connection. Still punishing meltdowns instead of asking why.

I’ve worked with adults whose families have given up, not because they don’t care, but because they’re exhausted. Imagine living in permanent fight-or-flight for 20 years, and no one around you has the training or the tools.

You’re not “difficult.”
You’re in distress.
And no one’s listening.

💣 What happens when it’s missed

When ADHD is missed, people don’t just fall through the cracks, they build lives in them.

They grow up thinking they’re lazy. Stupid. Broken.
They get mocked at work for counting on their fingers or making 12 lists and still forgetting the milk.
They don’t see “ADHD” in the mirror.
They see failure. Shame. Burnout. Confusion. Guilt.
A lifetime of “what’s wrong with me?” with no real answer.

And then the trauma sets in.

Because masking for years? That’s trauma.
Being punished for distress? Trauma.
Being laughed at for your differences, blamed for your overwhelm, expected to “just try harder”? Trauma.

It’s not always one big explosion.
Sometimes it’s death by a thousand unmet needs, tiny cuts, every day, from a world that never learned your language.

🔥 Burnout, masking, and meltdown

ADHD doesn’t creep up. It crashes in. I’ve seen it go 0 to 60 in seconds.

You try to hold it all in, pretend you’re okay, do the “right” thing, follow the plan. And then someone tells you the plan’s changed, and your brain, the one you’ve been fighting all day, just goes nope.

I’ve worked with people mid-meltdown. I’ve held the aftermath. I’ve taught boundaries, even when they didn’t want them, because safety matters. One girl I supported couldn’t handle change at all. If the car was broken and we couldn’t go out, she’d explode, kick, scream, hit out, until she collapsed crying.

So I taught her, slowly, gently, that plans change. That you can ask for something else. That it’s okay to feel upset, but there’s a way through it.
We taught her to tidy her room by linking it to something she loved, art. “Tidy first,” I’d say. And eventually, she did. She started to cope. Because we gave her the tools, not just the consequences.

🍗 Support that made things worse

Let me tell you about the chicken.

A support worker was trying to get a girl to eat roast chicken. She liked chicken, apparently. So this worker decided the girl wasn’t allowed pudding until she’d finished the meat.

But “chicken” doesn’t mean one texture. One type. She liked chicken nuggets. Not roast chicken. Not slimy skin and tough bits.

The worker pushed. The girl pushed back. And in the end, the chicken got launched across the room, right onto the worker.
I turned to her and said, “If you made me sit there and eat sprouts, you’d be wearing them too.”

💥 The emotional cost

Being undiagnosed, misdiagnosed, or dismissed for years takes a toll. You don’t just feel misunderstood ,you feel broken. People don’t give ADHD folks time to process. They interrupt, assume, punish, move on. But what you actually need is a moment. Some compassion. And someone who’s willing to work with your brain instead of against it.

❤️ One moment I’ll never forget

We were in Asda. The girl I supported started asking the cashier questions, about her disability, her wheelchair, everything. Not out of rudeness. Out of genuine, curious, heartfelt honesty.

And the cashier? She answered every single one.

At the end, the girl looked her in the eyes and said,
“You are so beautiful. Goodbye.”

The cashier teared up. Said it made her day.

That’s ADHD too. The beauty. The brutal honesty. The kindness that cuts straight through the noise.

🎯 What changes after a diagnosis?

For some, it’s a relief. For others, it’s grief.

You start replaying your whole life in your head: the moments you were punished for something you couldn’t control, the shame spirals, the lost jobs, the friends who thought you were flaky, the days you couldn't get out of bed and thought that meant you were lazy.

When you finally hear “ADHD,” it’s not just a label, it’s a mirror. One that shows you were never broken. You were just operating in a world that had no clue how your brain worked.

What do people need most after diagnosis?
A hug.
A breather.
Support that doesn’t talk down to them.
No more worksheets and stupid planner apps.
Someone to say, “You’re not lazy. You were never lazy. You were doing the best you could with what you had.”

Especially for those of us diagnosed later, we’ve been masking so long we forgot there was anything underneath it.

🧨 What professionals still get wrong

It’s not usually malice. It’s training.

Support plans still confuse “won’t” with “can’t.”
Risk assessments still focus on behavior instead of context.
Some staff push routines when flexibility would help more.
Others avoid boundaries altogether, afraid of setting someone off, but structure is safety when done right.

Remember the girl and the chicken? That wasn’t a one-off. I’ve seen that logic everywhere:

“She ate that once, so she should eat it again.”
“He coped last week, so he should be fine now.”
“She had a good day yesterday, so let’s push her today.”

That’s not trauma-informed. That’s wishful thinking with a clipboard.

📖 If I rewrote the ADHD training manual, page one would say:

“This person is not difficult. Their brain is doing exactly what it’s wired to do. Your job is to support that safely, not erase it.”

We don’t need more punishments. We don’t need “consequences” and charts.
We need to understand ADHD as a full-body, full-life, full-time condition.
We need staff who know how to say, “I see you,” even when things are chaotic. Especially then.

💡 What good support actually looks like

It’s not always big. Sometimes it’s a five-second pause instead of interrupting.
Sometimes it’s asking, “What do you need right now?” instead of, “Why are you acting like that?”

It’s preparing someone for change in advance.
It’s letting them stim without shame.
It’s explaining why we’re saying no, and holding that line with kindness.

It’s noticing the beautiful bits too, not just the meltdown moments.
The way they light up when talking about planes.
The way they say what everyone else is too scared to.
The way they love things, and people, with their whole heart.

💛 Most People Are Just Trying Their Best (and Deserve a Medal)

None of this is about blame.

Most of the adults in the room, the parents, the teachers, the support workers, were handed a loose instruction manual written in crayon and told “good luck.” And they did their best. Even when the advice was wrong. Even when the system was useless. Even when the child was currently throwing spaghetti at the dog.

And if you're a parent reading this, especially one living the full, unfiltered, no-sleep ADHD experience, I salute you.

Maybe your kid hits out. Maybe the school calls feel like a full-time job. Maybe you've Googled “can you be tired in your bones” more than once. You’re still here. Still trying. Still bursting with love (and possibly snacks and caffeine). I know you’ll say “I wouldn’t have it any other way,” but let’s be real, you deserve to be seen for what you carry.

So this is me applauding you. Loudly. With a biscuit in each hand. 👏

🧠 Final thought

ADHD isn’t new. It isn’t rare. And it isn’t a punchline.

It’s a completely different way of being in the world. One that’s full of creativity, honesty, and yes, chaos.

But it deserves more than jokes and TikToks. It deserves real support. Real understanding. Real care.

Because behind every adult finally getting answers is a child who thought they were the problem.

And they never were.

☕️ Optional support:

If this post hit home and you want to buy me a coffee, snack, or functioning executive brain, you can do that here. No pressure. I just appreciate you reading all the way through.