Unlocking ADHD writer Esther David takes us through her childhood and to her present, where she has learnt to unlock her ADHD superpower and make life better for herself and others.
In this personal story, Esther shares the academic and social struggles she experienced growing up with ADHD, and what happened when she realised how to use her ADHD as a gift through therapy, awareness, and self-compassion.
Surviving through chaos and carelessness
I was a very fast-paced child who was clumsy and chaotically loud, almost lacking social awareness. But no one had ever doubted that I was anything but enthusiastic. Mostly, it was because I loved studying English and Science and I did not have a lot of academic problems except that I would be desperately unable to concentrate long enough to memorise Mandarin characters or finish a Maths sum; in fact, I would struggle to focus down to the last number, running away before the sum was done.
Most people put it down to laziness, carelessness, or lack of motivation. Nonetheless, nothing awry was ever suspected as I still performed at an average level for most subjects and above average for humanities. I studied through what people call the usual path: primary school, secondary school, Junior College and then to University.
Never tired, but filled with anxiety
People called me brilliant — but I never felt that way. To achieve half the grades my peers got, I knew I had to prepare weeks, maybe months in advance. I was never a last-minute student as I I could not fathom the ability of my friends to ‘memorise at the last minute’. Events were always scheduled months before in my head as I was sure something would go wrong on the day — and they would, as a matter of fact.
Later, I realised that this is common among people with ADHD; we suffer from paralysis and anxiety before the event, but when the event happens we’re all good! I knew I could not concentrate but just put it down to poor time management and being distracted (like all young people, apparently).
At the same time, I was heavily involved in activities in school: I was in seven co-curricular activities simultaneously and at the end of my time in University, I had done 37 activities and projects spanning academics, sports and faculty clubs, and camps. People thought I was just wild, or overworked, or both. I never saw it as weird that I had an unlimited supply of energy. On low days, I would tell people I was at 30% and they’d remark that my 30% was other people’s 120%. I was never tired.
Social woes, rejection, and withdrawal
But for all the good, I struggled deeply. I knew I was louder than most and I felt severely insecure for being unable to fit in. I played football with the boys in primary school because I could not sit down with the girls to do whatever they were doing. As a result I was constantly covered in mud and injuries, and also ostracised by my female peers.
My parents were called in to school because their daughter was walking around the classroom and unable to sit down or pay attention long enough to finish her Mandarin homework. In secondary school, I was bullied badly for being ‘weird’ — because of poor social awareness, answering questions in class because I could not shut my mouth (earning me comments such as “You think you’re so smart is it?”), and volunteering for everything.
As a result of my behaviour, I was beaten into submission for causing disruptions at social events. I could not understand why my classmates always seemed to know how to behave in social situations. It made no sense to me. And when the rejection happened, I took it personally and went into isolation. I never cried, I just willed myself to be better.
The beauty (and betrayal) of hyperfocus
My A Levels were the hardest examinations of my life. As much as I loved the subjects I took, I could never ever concentrate enough to write essays fully, struggled to finish readings, and could only get things done after 20 hours of forcing myself to sit down. But the beauty of it was — when I could finally focus, apparently could score amazingly! I later found out it was called hyperfocus. I referred to it back then as ‘inspiration’ and would pray that the inspiration would come when it mattered the most.
As an ironic aside, this inspiration failed to come during my A Level Literature paper and I did not finish the paper as a result — the first time that ever happened to me in the history of my examinations.
Trying to cope with University studies
University was tough. I struggled to grasp concepts, as 400 pages of reading seemed like something most of my peers had no trouble with but I could not make it past page 5. It was so bad that some days I sat crying outside lecture theatres because I had spent so long doing readings and nothing made sense. I wrote endless pages of notes in the hope that something would work but it didn’t.
I felt like an academic failure on most days, so I threw myself into school activities. It seemed that I learnt more through fun hands-on activities, camps, events, workshops, and anything that involved moving and working physically.
I excelled at things that many other people failed at — crisis and conflict management, long days and nights, anything that required huge amounts of energy and heavy-lifting. Later, I came to find out I was very hyperactive.
Therapy, self-awareness, and coping
With therapy, I have learnt that there are X number of things I can do in a day. I used to write 10 things on my to-do list because I expected great things from myself, then I would beat myself up very badly when I failed to even accomplish three because I could not concentrate long enough to do so.
More frustratingly, it seemed that I could do big tasks but not remember small things like turning off the light switches.
After 25 years of being scolded for being irresponsible and lazy, I finally understood that it was really not that I did not want to do so or did not care, it was that I just could not and I had to then devise methods for myself to cope. I have also learnt to teach myself to use sports to burn off excess energy so I can sit down and study properly.
These days, I plan what I want to do into personal, work and/or other columns to help me see things in categories and sections rather than in one whole pile of paralysing work.
Learning I have ADHD has helped me to explain a great deal of me to myself. I understood it was not my fault for failing to be ‘normal’. I finally have an answer for myself to the question of why I do not fit in. I also realised that my interests vary widely and I can learn things in half the time that many other people take.
This makes me both an asset and sometimes a liability; the former because I can do anything for anyone as long as it is in my arsenal of skillsets but the latter because I get bored of things so quickly — it is inexplicable how I can like something so much one day and walk away the next!
Understanding and living with ADHD has also helped me immensely in understanding my ADHD friends and people around me who experience this challenge. It helps me understand why they would disappear for periods of time and I’d be happy as I realised they were in focus mode. I learnt to ask “What’s on your mind?” or “How are you feeling right now?” instead of “Are you okay?” as there will be a million answers if you ask someone with ADHD that.
Thriving with my ADHD superpower
Finally, I have learnt that being bored at work just means that this was really not the style of work for me — but it had nothing to do with my ability to hold down a job, being bad at it, or being incompetent. While I was mocked and sometimes punished into silence and submission as a child, I now know that I can be paid for being chatty and not being able to sit still.
I have learnt that my energy is not a curse, but a gift that can be shared. I would rather view it as my superpower as I have the energy that most do not. Now I seek out places to channel it so that I can be useful both to myself and society.
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Rodicéia Rodrigues says
Thank you for sharing this storie. I was diagnosed only in 2021, in my late 36 years old, and it’s been challenging. In certain ways I didn’t pass through bullying, but I also can’t get some social skills. Didn’t fit among the girls, or people from my age at all, and thought it was because of my family raising. I prefere tô be alone because I think only in my mind I have place to be myself and have someone (me myself) who understands me.