Okay, picture this: the mid-90s “Chaotic Carol.” Between marriages, sampling various colourful flatshares, running social programmes for international students plus ghost tour guiding, teaching English as a Foreign Language, ceilidh calling, creating and performing in a Scottish History Show, being a nude corpse in a glass coffin for a Fringe production, running ‘Beerienteering’ pub crawls for those students, often up till 3am, salsa dancing several nights a week, dating quite a few unsuitable men – culminating in a disastrous move to California, where I got dumped on Day Two. All great fun. But all at once?
I was living to the full, completely oblivious to the fact that my brain was running on high-octane, undiagnosed ADHD fuel.
Looking at this newly-created cartoon is like peering into a time capsule of that gloriously chaotic existence. “Me? Rest? I’ll sleep when I’m dead! Hahaha!” I’d declare, convinced I was a superhuman dynamo. Fast forward 25 years, and the penny finally drops: it wasn’t superhuman, it was ADHD.
So, for all my fellow late-discovering ADHDers, let’s dive into the lessons I’ve gleaned from my 90s escapades, with a healthy dose of hindsight:
Micro-Moments of Sanity in a Sea of Chaos: My life was a non-stop, technicolour explosion of activities. Those moments of staring out the window, lost in thought? My brain was desperately clawing for micro-moments of sanity. And the hyperfocus on creative projects? That was my brain’s way of finding a sliver of peace in the pandemonium.
Scheduling? A Concept Lost on 90s Carol: My social calendar was a testament to my love of variety, a frantic attempt to keep boredom at bay. I should have been scheduling self-care, but that was a foreign concept. Post-it notes scattered everywhere? My brain’s desperate attempt at external structure.
Constant Motion as a Nervous System Regulator: I was a human pinball bouncing from one activity to the next. Dancing, walking, pacing while on the (non-mobile) phone – it was all a desperate attempt to regulate my overstimulated nervous system. And the constant need for novelty? My brain was screaming for stimulation, like a bairn in a sweetie shop.
The Art of Saying “No” (Which I Never Mastered): I was a “yes” person to the extreme, driven by a fear of missing out and a desperate need to please. Burnout? A distant concept. Prioritising? Impossible. Delegating? What was that? It was hyper-independence, fuelled by a brain that didn’t know how to filter.
Embracing the Chaos (and Finally Finding My Calm): My life was a colourful, chaotic mess, a reflection of my inner world. Mindfulness, when I finally discovered it, was a revelation. Quiet moments with a book or a journal? My sanctuary now.
“Chaotic Carol” was living life to the absolute fullest, but she was also running on fumes, completely unaware of the ADHD engine driving her. It’s never too late to understand yourself, even if it takes a quarter of a century.
Our Healthier Habits Peer Group seemed to relate to all this. Our collective shared wisdom this month included the benefits of early-morning walks with a friend (accountability), 7am Pilates (working with our body clock), ordering Gusto or Hello Fresh to make meal prep easier, and taking one day at a time when life throws curveballs and routines are out the window – but remembering self-care can be as small a thing as guided breathing in the hospital waiting-room, or quietly celebrating a tiny win. Looks like we’ve all learnt a thing or two.
Did you also discover your ADHD late in life? How does your past make sense now? How do you take care of yourself nowadays? Comments welcome!
