A mum from Margate who reached breaking point after “years of self-medicating, chaos and burnout” has spoken of her relief at finally being diagnosed with ADHD as an adult.

Here, writer Jodie Nesling, 43, explores what it’s like to live with the condition, and the impact of harmful misconceptions, long waiting lists and a lack of support for neurodivergent people in Kent…

I was diagnosed with ADHD as an adult – it changed my life, but I wish it had been earlier.

Today, as awareness around the condition increases, so must support. In Kent, there is limited access to medical appointments, with support increasingly being provided by volunteers and charities.

“Everyone’s got it these days!” came the response from a doctor when I asked them to review my ADHD medication. It suddenly felt like my diagnosis was some sort of woke, neurodivergent virus doing the rounds – let’s call it claptrap.

Unsurprisingly, this healthcare professional was not qualified to discuss my ADHD-related concerns - I’d need to be referred, which seems reasonable enough until you find out there’s a three-year waiting list. For those awaiting an initial assessment, it’s a whopping seven. Rather than these depressing statistics supporting Dr Claptrap’s theory that the whole world has suddenly woken up neurodivergent, it demonstrates the chronic lack of resources due to historic underfunding.

How did we get here? Around 20 years ago, little was understood about ADHD, and so harmful stereotypes of rabid boys hurling chairs at teachers manifested. Everyone thought it was a ruse conjured up by terrible parents to excuse their terrible children. It was a condition confined to poor, working-class families and didn’t affect women and girls. Today, the different, overlooked symptoms presented in females such as anxiety, inattention and time blindness are finally being recognised, but it remains challenging.

In a neurotypical world, I work twice as hard to appear ‘normal’. It’s exhausting. I am not stupid – I have two degrees, and I run two businesses, but there is a reason I’m self-employed. I can work very hard, but must do so in my own way. I was diagnosed after reaching breaking point following years of self-medicating, chaos and burnout.

Returning home after another chaotic day of leaving my phone on the car roof, losing my keys and then picking up a random phone after getting stuck in a field with a builder – long story - I returned home miserable and burned out. I switched on the TV. The impressionist Rory Bremner was presenting a documentary about his ADHD diagnosis. My jaw dropped – he was describing me. Before this watershed moment, I had questioned my sanity. I wasn’t alone. One female CEO of a well-known construction company recently told me she thought she had dementia before receiving her diagnosis. The pressure on women with ADHD is immense because the traditional stereotypes of being clean, tidy and super-organised mean that rather than being viewed as creative or neurodivergent, we are seen as scatty and incompetent – nothing could be further from the truth.

ADHD is caused by a dopamine deficiency in the brain, which can cause, amongst other things, hyperactivity, acting on impulse, inattention, noise sensitivity, forgetfulness, time blindness and rejection dysmorphia. There are crossovers with autism, and left undiagnosed, it can cause a multitude of debilitating health problems.

A 2022 report by the ADHD Foundation revealed it affects one in four UK prisoners, while ADHD UK notes people with it “can have significantly higher rates of suicidal thoughts and self-harm with serious emotional and mental health issues”.

Kent isn’t alone in struggling with demand. A damning report into national waiting lists and centre closures dominated the news before Christmas. Indeed, I had intended to write this piece last year, but being true to my authentic self (ADHD combined type), I’m striking while the iron is freezing cold.

Since my diagnosis, awareness has exploded. From pieces in The Financial Times to Instagram reels, people are sharing their stories. There are also some fantastic resources online, including from Kent-based social media stars, ADHD Love. Reel by reel, they are breaking down the stigma by sharing content in an accessible and friendly way designed to educate people about neurodivergence.

But while it’s always heartening for ADHD to be trending on social media alongside fascism, Ozempic, and Danny Dyer, there still needs to be a wholesale change in societal attitudes towards neurodivergence, with practical action required to address inclusivity.

In response to lengthy waiting times, Kent County Council launched a consultation reviewing its current provision. Although this is welcome, it cannot replace receiving a diagnosis, which provides validation and access to medication. There also needs to be a drive to make adjustments in schools, the workplace and financial structures so barriers can be removed – too often this is left for activists and volunteers to do.

Emma Kluibenschadl, from Margate, set up the charity STAK with husband Tristan after their son Stefan, 15, tragically took his own life after being bullied relentlessly for his autism. It was in the traumatic aftermath of his death that her previously-masked ADHD symptoms became increasingly prevalent and led her to seek help. The charity provides training to parents, organisations, and employers, aiming to enhance their understanding and support for neurodivergent individuals and Emma says that even simple adjustments can make a profound difference.

“I took a family friend who is both ADHD and autistic to the dentist,” Emma said. “I asked if the appointments could be sent by a text message, but they initially refused. I find this very often where something can be changed quite easily but there is resistance to it.”

She added: “Neurodivergent activist and volunteer Georgine assisted us recently by going through our website and pointing out recommendations to make it more accessible. It was amazing – having this carried out by someone who is actually neurodivergent and so passionate about inclusivity was brilliant and brought things up I initially didn’t think of.”

Holly Sutcliffe is co-director of Neurodivergent Friends in Thanet, a fledgling organisation that offers a safe space to everybody who identifies as neurodivergent.

She said: “We formed two years ago in response to an urgent need for support. The first meeting I attended attracted 18 people which shows there is a huge need - our coffee mornings and meet-ups are held around different places in Thanet each month to increase accessibility, which is incredibly important to us.”

Holly, who is autistic, added: “My daughter was diagnosed with autism aged three and then with ADHD. It was only after this that I started to question my own neurodivergence as I found the support practices put in place for her were also benefiting me.

“I then sought diagnosis and afterwards I felt such relief – finally I had validity and above all liberation. There was nothing wrong with me. I finally understood why I struggled at school despite being intelligent. My friends couldn’t understand why I was excellent in a crisis but then overwhelmed when organising a pizza night.”

People with autism and ADHD have fantastic qualities. We are very good in a crisis, can work on 52 things at once, are occasionally witty and are great at our jobs. But currently, our tribe is being set up to fail. A recent study reveals those diagnosed have a shorter life expectancy – it doesn’t have to be this way. Working towards a more inclusive society with better access to medical treatment is a start.

Neurodivergent Friends in Thanet is holding the area’s first Pride event in June. They are looking for volunteers. To find out more visit the website.