“Would I choose ADHD? Maybe not. But embracing it has brought me so much joy”
I read Rochie Bloomberg’s diary serial with interest. She tells a good story. I was also diagnosed with ADHD, and my experience was similar, but different. On the outside, everything looked perfect. I had sweet kids, a successful career, was always wearing a sleek sheitel and fresh makeup. But what no one saw was how much effort it took for me to hold it all together. To meet deadlines at my job as art director at a publishing house. To get to the finishing line of Shabbos preparations before lichtbentshen. To pull off my son’s bar mitzvah buffet. I was always wishing for another few hours, another few days, another week, to get everything done.
And I was frustrated with myself for not being like everyone else — everyone who made it look so easy to hold down a job, raise a family, keep house, and make sure their children’s nails were cut, their pants weren’t too short, their permission forms signed.
My overriding emotion was shame. To protect myself from it, I worked really hard on giving the impression to the outside world that I had it all together. When it came to the people I was close with, I cultivated an identity as the one who was struggling to juggle. I’d make self-deprecating jokes, roll my eyes, and say, “You know me.” But I’d also wish I wasn’t like that. I desperately wanted to break free of the cage of self-criticism I was trapped in.
Who I looked like on the outside and what I felt like on the inside were two entirely different beings.
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