In this post, I share my personal journey with ADHD and anxiety-how understanding my brain’s unique wiring transformed chaos into compassion, and why living in tune with yourself is the truest form of healing.
Marching to My Own Rhythm
I have always known that my brain marches to the beat of its own drum. I did well in school; I maintained good grades; my homework was always completed, and I aced all my courses-except for math. Numbers and I never got along. Math felt like a puzzle written in some alien code I could never crack.
Everything else-literature, writing, music, social studies, and history-I thrived. I was sharp, endlessly curious, and alive in ways the education system’s neat little boxes couldn’t contain. ADHD fuels many abilities; it does not hinder them.
My mind often wandered, bouncing from one idea to another like a pinball refusing to stop. And socially? I never quite fit in-not once.
Understanding ADHD
Attention-Deficit/Hyperactivity Disorder (ADHD) is not laziness or a flaw in character. It is a difference in wiring. Mine is predominantly inattentive, though minor hyperactive-impulsive traits appear now and then, like small surprise cameos. My thoughts drift, ricochet, and spiral faster than I can speak them aloud.
Neurodiversity is the term for this-brains that are not black and white. Neurotypical minds follow straight lines, orderly and predictable. A neurodiverse brain like mine zigzags, orbits, and bursts into hyperfocus, noticing connections others often miss. It is exhausting sometimes, but it is always exhilarating.
The talents-oh, the talents. Musically, I hear rhythms others don’t. Instruments, composition, and improvisation appear in sudden bursts, and my fingers scramble to catch up. I sketched incessantly through school; doodles became lifelines for my attention. When I write, I circle, loop, and digress before finally landing somewhere coherent.
ADHD Through History
ADHD existed long before it had a name. Early psychology described it as “minimal brain dysfunction” (1952), later as “hyperkinetic reaction of childhood” (1968). By 1980, the term ADD recognized inattention, and in 1987, ADHD included both hyperactive and inattentive features. Later editions of the DSM clarified presentations, finally acknowledging that ADHD looks different across ages and genders.
The takeaway? ADHD has always been misunderstood. Every brain experiences it differently. The problem was never my brain-it was a world expecting every brain to behave the same way, and punishing the ones that didn’t.
ADHD and Anxiety: Subtle Companions
ADHD and anxiety often travel together, especially for minds that wander. Anxiety isn’t always fear-it’s friction. A steady buzz that never really quiets.
Did I say too much? Did I forget again? Why does everyone else seem to move in step while I am somewhere offbeat?
I’ve tried journaling, meditation, and deep breathing. They help, but only a little. The real ease began when I stopped fighting the brain I have. Once I learned its rhythm, shaped my environment around it, and released self-blame, things began to settle. It took me years to reach that point.
Growing Up Quirky
I’ve always been different. My mind moved in its own orbit-spotting patterns, humming melodies, imagining stories no one else could see. People noticed, but not always kindly. I was quirky, intense, and “too much.” My hypersensitivity often made others uncomfortable.
The loops of my thoughts made life vivid for me but confusing for others. I was too loud, too quiet, too fast, too slow. I tried to fit a mold that didn’t exist for someone like me, and it never worked. So I retreated inward-observing, creating, holding tight to the parts of me that felt real, even when the world told me they were wrong.
Being myself always felt like an act of resistance. My quirks weren’t flaws-they were the pulse of my mind, the spark of my creativity, the essence of who I am. Yet I learned early that being fully myself could make others uneasy. I carried that quietly and intensely every day.
Recognizing My Own Wiring
I received my ADHD diagnosis in my late thirties: predominantly inattentive, with occasional hyperactive traits. The sense of relief was enormous. Suddenly, everything made sense-the anxiety, the habits, the daydreams, the bursts of creativity that always seemed out of step.
Looking back, patterns I never understood became clear. My anxiety wasn’t fear-it was friction. My brain was trying to move through a world built for straight lines. Accepting this changed everything. I could finally see my gifts-music, art, writing, curiosity-for what they were. My brain was not flawed. It was remarkable.
Cause, Effect, and Compassion
ADHD shapes attention, memory, self-perception, and emotion. Forcing conformity makes anxiety skyrocket, and anxiety, in turn, drains focus. Even small tasks can feel overwhelming.
Recognizing that anxiety is neurobiological-not moral-changes everything. Compassion replaces judgment. Growth is not “fixing”; it is alignment-adjusting habits, expectations, and environments to work with your wiring, not against it.
Liberation comes when you realize what looks like a flaw is often genius. Creativity, intelligence, and empathy aren’t accidents-they are gifts of a neurodiverse mind.
Living with ADHD as an Adult
Being diagnosed didn’t make everyday life easier. I still misplace things, and I still get lost inside my thoughts. But understanding why changed everything. Now I work with it-and even laugh at it. My curiosity stretches endlessly, my empathy runs deep, and my creative bursts come unannounced but never unwelcome.
These quirks aren’t flaws. They’re part of who I am. I’ve learned to accept myself instead of judge myself.
The Freedom in Understanding
My diagnosis didn’t change who I am-it revealed me. ADHD didn’t take away my creativity, intelligence, or sensitivity; it explained them. It showed why my curiosity feels limitless, why my empathy is strong, and why my imagination feels infinite. ADHD gave a name to a mind that was always remarkable.
If you have inattentive ADHD and anxiety, please know: your mind is not broken. It is alive, aware, and endlessly inventive. Healing begins with understanding-and honoring your own rhythm.
Conclusion: Living Unapologetically You
Living with ADHD and anxiety is not about being flawed. It’s about understanding, compassion, and alignment with your own mind. When you stop fighting how you’re wired, self-criticism softens, creativity expands, and peace begins.
Being neurodiverse means moving to a rhythm the world cannot measure.
Notice your wiring. Stop apologizing for it. Live fully in tune with it-curious, thoughtful, socially unconventional, creatively alive, and unapologetically yourself.
That, my friends, is freedom.
💛 A Note from Stefania
If you recognize yourself in these words and want support in understanding your own neurodiverse experience, our team at Breaking Free Services is here to help you explore your story with compassion and care.