Well, things are starting to make sense to me. Have you ever had a revelation that was confronting but then made complete sense? That’s where I am at.
I’ve been a programmer for 15 years and counting. I love what I do. Even after all this time, I still wake up excited and enthusiastic about my job and the industry. But over the last couple of years, coinciding with a big move and losing my usual support network, moving away from family; something shifted.
Hyperfocus Hero, Everyday Zero
I became aware of a strange pattern. I could hyperfocus, obsessing over complex coding challenges for hours, forgetting to eat or drink, and losing track of time. Yet, the simplest tasks, like adding a button or writing a test case, felt like pulling teeth. Even with looming deadlines, I’d tinker endlessly with perfectly functional features, sometimes breaking things right before release. It was as if my brain had two gears: hyperdrive and neutral, nothing in between.
This is how I have always worked. And fortunately, I have mostly always worked in ADHD friendly environments where I am not forced to confine myself to a neurotypical environment and work style. My work style has been very compatible with most of the places I’ve worked at because I always get there in the end and people seem to trust the process, even if I make little mistakes.
Until now.
Missing Pieces and Mental Traffic Jams
It wasn’t just work. I noticed other quirks. In meetings, I’d struggle to absorb information, even when I was trying to pay attention. Later, I’d be left with gaps in my understanding. I have a graveyard of unfinished side projects – bursts of inspiration followed by a loss of interest. And my brain is a constant idea factory, always churning.
I have notebooks that are full of ideas. I have a notebook that goes as far back as 2007 with ideas, some I started, some I didn’t. But, the ideas factory in my brain has always kept on churning, even when there are more pressing things to worry about. It’s something I have never been able to turn off.
Conversations are another challenge. I interrupt people, finishing their sentences, even when they’re the experts on the topic. I’ve always been like this, but it feels more pronounced lately. It’s hard to switch gears once I’m deep in a problem. People try to pull me away, and I get agitated.
The Impostor in the Room
Maybe it’s the ADHD, or maybe it’s just me, but another struggle I’ve faced is the nagging feeling of impostor syndrome. I’m on the Aurelia core team and work with it daily, but sometimes I feel like I’m faking it and that others know more than I do.
I feel like people see me as the “Aurelia guy,” expecting me to have all the answers. It’s a lot of pressure, and I often shoulder problems alone, afraid to admit when I’m stumped. It’s a vicious cycle of self-doubt. Despite knowing Aurelia well and Javascript, the stupidest and smallest things can cause me to trip and fall flat on my face.
I might know a thing or two, but the brain fog and being human means I don’t know everything.
The Details That Derail
My attention to detail isn’t always perfect and is not intentional. I’ve improved in the past few weeks as I’ve become more aware and actively worked on myself. But I can stare at a design for hours, meticulously checking measurements and text sizes, only to miss something obvious, like a border or font weight or changed wording.
To others, I might seem lazy or inattentive, but the truth is, I am trying to get the details right. Sometimes, things don’t click or compute for me. Sometimes, important steps get missed in the process (the context around a UI feature is the way it is or steps to get there). Even the times when I spend a lot of effort to make sure the details are right, there is a good chance something will be missed.
The downside is that despite self-implementing some coping strategies, my psychologist says that because I think differently, adapting a neurodivergent brain to neurotypical processes is not sustainable in the long term. Things are going to have to change, and the processes around me need to accommodate how I work.
I need specifics for my tasks, checklists, and details for any task that relies on remembering a meeting or previous task.
Sadly, a lot of places are not ADHD friendly. The processes and style of working are oriented towards neurotypical people who can work with little detail, who can get things done in a timely manner, who can remember information from meetings and not be so forgetful. We live in a world where some assume everyone else is like them.
The Fog of Forgetfulness
My short-term memory is a sieve. I forget things people tell me moments later. If I’m not actively working on a task, it might as well not exist. My wife will ask me to bring laundry downstairs, and I’ll completely forget. It’s frustrating for both of us.
I leave the car keys in the car when I get out of it. I lose my wallet and phone all the time. My wife can tell me things about the morning routine I will forget. Just the other day she asked me to give the kids breakfast, she even got it out for me. What I forgot was she said it was frozen and needed to be heated in the microwave. I gave it to them frozen.
Even sleep is a struggle. I’ll lie in bed, wanting to rest, but my mind races with everything I “need” to do. It’s exhausting. Even if I don’t have much caffeine.
The Diagnosis and a Glimmer of Hope
Finally, realising I couldn’t go on like this, I sought help. I thought maybe I was burned out or had a work addiction. But my psychologist had another idea: ADHD.
At first, it was a shock. But the more she explained, the more pieces clicked into place. She reassured me that this wasn’t a flaw, just a different way of thinking. Many workplaces, with their rigid structures, aren’t built for ADHD brains. We’re not broken, just different.
She fast-tracked me for an assessment, and we’re starting to explore coping strategies. I’m hesitant about medication because my number one concern is losing who I am (I’ve been like this forever; I can’t imagine being different or my personality changing), so we’re focusing on non-medication approaches first. It’s early days, but I already feel relieved that I am not alone.
And honestly, I didn’t want it to be ADHD. It’s not that I hate labels, it’s just everyone says they have ADHD now and it makes me not want to be one of those people that says they have it (even if they do). But, despite how lucky I’ve been in my career, I need help to manage this, because I’ve learned it’s not normal. My psychologist says it’s, “your normal”, but many of these traits are not normal.
And being honest, I feel like my entire life persona and personality traits have been built around ADHD symptoms. My ability to talk until people go deaf, to talk so much that I sound insane, to go an entire day without eating or drinking. And then similarly, binge like I’ve been lost in the wilderness for days.
I just hope I get the strategies and treatment I need before I self-sabotage and jeopardise everything I’ve worked so hard for, because ADHD tends to make you self-sabotage, even if you don’t mean too.
If This Sounds Familiar…
If any of this resonates with you, please reach out for help. Please don’t wait until it feels overwhelming. I wish I hadn’t. You’re not alone, and there’s support out there. ADHD isn’t a life sentence; it’s just another part of your identity. And that impostor? It doesn’t have to have a permanent seat at your table.
