Images: Max Wallis
For ADHD Awareness Month this October, we asked journalist and poet Max Wallis to write a series of blogs about ADHD. This is the first post on this year’s theme: Awareness is Key!
Content warning: This blog mentions suicide.
Max Wallis
My experience of Attention Deficit Hyperactivity Disorder (ADHD) is that it is life-threatening, brutal, and poorly understood by doctors at the GP level and in society as a whole. It led me down a path of addiction, brutal self-esteem issues and, ultimately, to an intent to end my life.
I firmly believe that talking about my experience is vital to inform research, and I am so happy to have partnered with McPin for this series of blog posts.
‘My undiagnosed ADHD meant I didn’t understand myself’
Had I received a diagnosis as a child—when my symptoms first emerged during a meeting with my psychologist mother’s occupational therapist—I might have avoided reaching a crisis point this past February, which culminated in my intent to take my own life.
My undiagnosed ADHD led me down a dangerous path characterised by poor impulse control and the endless pursuit of dopamine. This struggle eventually resulted in addiction, as I turned to illegal drugs for focus and alcohol for sleep regulation.
Life is complex, and many factors carried me to that point where I wanted to end things. But my undiagnosed ADHD meant I didn’t understand myself—my mind, my emotions, or what was “wrong” with me.
I struggled to vocalise anything, and when I did it was met with dismissal. The only option to me seemed to be to escape entirely.
Since starting treatment, my mind is less noisy. I can wake up and focus, but I still face the long road of unravelling years of substance abuse and a compounding diagnosis of complex PTSD.
ADHD and the struggle to get support
The sobering reality is that one in ten men with ADHD has attempted suicide, and I was among them.
This crisis ultimately became a catalyst for seeking help and a proper diagnosis, which I had to pursue privately due to long NHS waiting lists. Without the stabilising effects of medication, my ADHD manifested severely; even simple tasks became unmanageable.
For years, GPs dismissed my attempts at getting an ADHD diagnosis as symptoms of anxiety and depression.
My hyperactivity didn’t match the common understanding of ADHD and was missed at school. My academic success masked an internal hurricane that made daily functioning incredibly challenging.
Since starting treatment, my mind is less noisy. I can wake up and focus, but I still face the long road of unravelling years of substance abuse and a compounding diagnosis of complex PTSD.
Life-saving mental health diagnoses
I wrote about how my ADHD diagnosis saved my life for The Telegraph, and I am positive that other people getting diagnosed might save theirs, too.
I’ve noticed something remarkable since diagnosis that was perhaps there all along without realising: I can often recognise ADHD traits in those around me.
I’m used to having a personal radar, able to spot other gay men a mile off most of the time; it’s almost like that but for ADHD – shared thought patterns, shared tangential ways of speaking, and shared neuroses flicker in the brain – You’re just like me!
This awareness allows me to connect with others who share similar struggles and experiences. I’ve found having neurodiverse friends makes me feel more myself – I don’t need to mask, I can just be me.
Maybe that’s the reason why so many of my friends from childhood are now getting their diagnoses. We knew we were similar back then, too.
This stigma portrays individuals with ADHD as lazy or irresponsible. The truth is that proper treatment (and in the case of myself and many others, medication) could lead to fewer reckless behaviours and reduce strain on healthcare systems.
Stigma and dismissal
Strangers and misinformed acquaintances often say “We all have ADHD”, which feels dismissive of my diagnosis.
The reality of a medical condition being a “disorder” is that it’s called one when it disrupts life to the point of requiring intervention. While some people might forget their keys occasionally, those with full-blown ADHD live in a state of disorder constantly.
My life before diagnosis was filled with failed attempts to impose order, leading to chaos and unpaid debts. If we had known earlier that I needed medication, love, and support, we could have saved years of distress.
There’s a misconception that ADHD is just a childhood phase or that it’s led to a TikTok-misinformed boom of mass diagnosis.
This stigma portrays individuals with ADHD as lazy or irresponsible. The truth is that proper treatment (and in the case of myself and many others, could lead to fewer reckless behaviours and reduce strain on healthcare systems; not to mention the justice system, where often these reckless and impulsive behaviours can lead us (one in four prisoners in the UK are alleged to have ADHD).
It can get better—with love, hope, targeted resources, and medical support, there is a future. I just hope that more people can get the help they need before it’s too late.
Challenging ADHD misinformation and creating hope for the future
The stigma surrounding mental health issues breeds isolation; many individuals with ADHD contend with self-harm as a coping mechanism for overwhelming emotions.
Challenging the misinformation surrounding ADHD is crucial. Support systems in healthcare and social environments play vital roles in helping individuals manage their lives.
It’s time to confront misconceptions and recognise ADHD as a complex disorder that requires understanding, compassion, and support. Not funding ADHD support and research will lead many to self-medicate or, worse, to consider ending their life.
But it can get better—with love, hope, targeted resources, and medical support, there is a future. I just hope that more people can get the help they need before it’s too late.
Max Wallis is an award-winning poet, journalist, and writer based in Lancashire. You can find him on Instagram @maxwallis.
Read his other blogs for ADHD Awareness Month here: