‘I self-medicated for years – until I was finally diagnosed with ADHD’

Throughout my life, I’ve always struggled with being overwhelmed by my feelings. I didn’t always know how to manage them. I’d often zone out – up to 60 times a day. I had mood swings and negative thoughts. I lacked motivation and I would crash out a few times a day with fatigue. I couldn’t retain information. My memory was shocking. I had no idea any of it could be traits of attention deficit hyperactivity disorder, or ADHD – as I only knew about the disorder in the form of hyperactivity. I was always going to my GP explaining these individual symptoms, asking for help and saying, “There is something wrong with me.” I was handed antidepressants or therapy. I felt useless.

I had been through so much trauma. Surely this was the only reason I was struggling to cope? I remember being quite anxious as a child. My parents separated when I was just one year old, and my older sister and I grew up with my dad, who often had to work away from home. As a teenager, I had a tough time at school being bullied. I was dyslexic and struggled to focus. I had very low self-esteem.

I also lived with scoliosis, a disability that caused a 74-degree curve in my spine, which added to my feelings of insecurity about the way I looked. At the age of 14, I had to have major spinal surgery. I now have 21 screws and two rods in my spine – and I’ve had to learn to live with chronic pain.

I couldn’t attend school for six months after the operation, as I had to learn to walk again. I felt socially isolated. I was also struggling with coming to terms with the breakup of my mum and stepdad. It felt like everything in my life was falling apart.

It was around this time, aged 14, that I began to spiral into a dark place. I tried to take my own life. I felt like everyone else would be better off without me. I just couldn’t cope with the intense and difficult emotions. I just wanted to escape.

I’m lucky to be alive. I stayed at the hospital for a week before I was referred to CAMHS (child adolescent mental health services). It was a wake-up call – but even after some therapy, I stayed stuck in a vicious cycle of medicating my feelings. When my parents were out, I’d raid their alcohol cupboard and make concoctions with my friends. When I got my first boyfriend, I was very body-conscious because of my scoliosis and found drinking made me feel more confident. If I was out partying with my friends, my drinking was acceptable even though I’d often be stumbling around paralytic before we’d even left the house. Drinking was normalised – I was young and having fun.

It was only a problem with close friends and family, who saw me change after a drink. All the suppressed hurt and pain I felt would come out explosively. It only made me feel more ashamed. I soon started abusing the codeine pills I’d been prescribed for my back pain to take the edge off my anxiety. Looking back, I understand the dangers of addiction to strong painkillers – and I find it surprising that doctors handed pills out so freely to me from the age of 16. I became reliant on them. By now, aged 19, I’d somehow ended up in a relationship that became abusive – I couldn’t leave. As is quite often the case with victims of abuse and people who suffer from low self-esteem, I ended up wondering if I was the problem in the end.

I started drinking alone before midday on my own – wine, lager, and vodka. One New Year’s Eve, my boyfriend suddenly packed all his things and left me. We’d been together for three years. I felt so alone, so the first thing I did was go to the shop and buy three bottles of prosecco to drink on my own.

My dad took me to see a doctor who told me that I was alcohol dependent. But I didn’t want to hear that then. I would talk myself out of thinking I had a problem – there were periods when I’d drink more, then less, so I thought “I can’t be out of control if I can make these choices.”

I may have been high-functioning and coping but that wasn’t a healthy, happy, or sustainable way to live. Eventually, things turned from manageable to bad to worse. I hated myself and my life. I hated everything. I wasn’t happy, I was stuck in survival mode. Some days I couldn’t even leave my bed.

By 26, I was struggling to function, and I admitted that I didn’t feel like living anymore. That’s when my dad suggested I go to Delamere, a private rehab near me. If I thought I was going because of my drinking, I don’t think I’d have gone. There are so many stigmas around rehab, and there is often a denial state before you can accept and see what others around you may see already. He said it would be good for my mental health. I paid for the rehab with my savings – it cost around £16,500 for a 28-day inpatient treatment plan.

We did group therapy – and had one-to-one counselling. I needed to process what I’d bottled up, so I could accept and heal from my past. I also needed to work on my self-esteem and confidence so that I felt capable of being able to express my feelings and needs without relying on alcohol and pills to do that. Facing all that stuff with people so openly made me feel internally strong and gave me the courage to face it head on.

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I wanted to be free of the constant noise in my head. It was during my time there that a therapist said: “I bet you have ADHD.” They advised me to get it checked out properly when I left the rehab.

It took me over a year to get a formal ADHD diagnosis on the NHS through Psychiatry UK. I had to fill out monthly questionnaires asking “Are you still feeling this way?” to remain on the waiting list. Eventually, I had a two-and-a-half-hour video call consultation. The doctor immediately knew I had ADHD just from the “ADHD stimming” – repetitive behaviour that is self-stimulating and self-soothing. I’m always fiddling with things or moving restlessly around.

I was diagnosed with combined-type ADHD, which is characterised by symptoms of both inattention and hyperactivity/impulsivity. I’ve been beating myself up for years thinking “Why do I feel like this?” – now I know. I am somebody who wants to escape my mind – and this is where a lot of the ADHD comes into it. Regardless of what’s gone on, time can move on, but my mind constantly overthinks everything. And this is what causes my anxiety.

The only way I could cope was to drink and take pills. I was prescribed medication for ADHD, but I can’t take it yet. After I left rehab, I had a brain scan as I’d been passing out for years – and they found a tumour or a cyst on my pituitary gland, which could grow bigger on ADHD meds. I have to show two years of clear scans to show it’s not growing before I can start them.

I’m now 21 months sober. I went back to college to train as a mature student in beauty therapy and lash tech, something that has always been a passion of mine. People with ADHD do end up with alcohol and drug problems. I feel angry I wasn’t diagnosed sooner. But at least the shame has gone – and I’m able to look forward with hope.