ADHD Made Me Feel Like a Failure at Work — Here's How I Changed That

"You're absolutely positive I have ADHD? Like the kid's disorder?" I asked uneasily, it sounded more like a plea than a question. I could hear my voice quiver, as a sinking feeling made its way into the pit of my stomach. I silently prayed that the psychiatrist sitting across from me had made a mistake. We were meeting in his office at the Centre for Addiction and Mental Health (CAMH), on a sunny spring afternoon. After months of insisting to my primary care provider that there had to be an underlying cause to my consistent issues at work, I had finally secured an appointment. Even so, now that I was sitting in his office, which consisted of four yellowing walls, and a giant digital clock hanging on the wall, a part of me hoped I'd somehow gotten it wrong.

Instead, the psychiatrist arched an eyebrow and took a deep, labored breath. "Well, yes," he replied. "Patients are normally diagnosed during childhood, but it's not uncommon for symptoms to continue into adulthood and women in particular tend to go undiagnosed," his tone seeming to embody the word "duh". Those words would kick-off my ongoing journey of navigating life as a woman with attention-deficit/hyperactivity disorder (ADHD).

I'm 29, and even though symptoms of ADHD typically begin in childhood, I only received my official diagnosis a few months ago. I realize now it has been covertly impacting every aspect of my life, making its presence particularly known in my career. Prior to that moment of clarity, my career had been characterized by a constant stream of contradictrary emotions. Feelings of joy for how far I'd come, were met with deep frustration because of how difficult it'd been to get there. Any sense of pride that emerged, often collided with sentiments of shame because of the self-imposed time-frame in which they occurred. My signature brand of optimism was often coupled with uncertainty. I constantly felt on edge, waiting for the rug to be pulled out from under me. Waiting to eventually be found out.

At the time of my diagnosis, from the outside looking in, I probably appeared to be thriving. My resume included a string of roles within prestigious companies, two successful industry pivots, and a growing list of published articles in some of the country's leading publications. Not to mention a music industry side hustle, that had gotten me on camera, backstage at festivals, and in studios with creatives who could list Drake and Sza as past collaborators. Despite it all, internally I felt like I was drowning. I was putting in twice as much effort as my peers, just to stay on track, leaving me in a perpetual state of burnout.

My symptoms first surfaced 6 years before my CAMH visit. As a Communications major who loved writing, a shrinking journalism industry, one too many episodes of "The Hills," and the rising interest rates of my student loans, propelled me to pursue public relations. When a well-timed referral landed me an entry level PR role for a luxury fashion house, I thanked the fashion gods and was immediately determined to emerge as a model employee.

Unfortunately, that initial spark of energy fizzled out almost as quickly as it had arrived. After the thrill of a new role, and the allure of a luxury fashion house wore off, the cracks in my performance began to show. Like most entry level PR roles, there was a lot of administrative work involved. A typical day consisted of paperwork, inventory tracking, and sample organization— essentially an unending nightmare for someone living with untreated ADHD. Seemingly 'small' mistakes, like a missing item number while reporting new inventory, or a forgotten accessory while couriering looks to a top magazine editor had monumental impact due to the brand's iconic status. So much so, that these instances began outshining the various ways in which I actually was succeeding. The big wins faded into the background as my workload grew, and the frequency of these frivolous errors increased along with it. At first, these blunders were met with sympathetic words of encouragement, or "helpful" tips. However, as time wore on and the mistakes persisted, a palatable layer of tension engulfed many of the 1:1 meetings that seemed to pop up on my calendar with increasing regularity.

ADHD looks different for everyone, but symptoms typically manifest in three different types: inattentive, hyperactive/impulsive and combined. I struggle with the inattentive type, most commonly found in women. Meaning that when I'm faced with daily tasks that require me to be extremely organized or to enact a high level of focus (ie.creating spreadsheets, organizing a sample closet) I have to tap into more brain power than someone who is neurotypical. I was eventually forced to develop a combination of strategies and coping mechanisms that enabled me to complete daily tasks with minimal error. I did what many women with ADHD, particularly ambitious ones, do all the time: I masked my symptoms. I adapted perfectionist tendencies, creating overly high standards for myself and being hyper-sensitive to even the smallest amounts of feedback. I put an unnecessary amount of effort into being excessively organized, and would double, triple, sometimes quadruple check my work to make sure it was 100% accurate. What should have been a fun and interesting first job evolved into a grueling, shame-inducing, anxiety-ridden experience.

I tried to justify my shortcomings by convincing myself they were simply part of my personality. I had never been a super organized person to begin with, and who doesn't find spreadsheets boring? I rationalized.

So when an opportunity to enter the editorial industry (an industry I was dying to break into) finally presented itself, I vowed things would be different, they had to be, right? This role was a dream-job-skill-building opportunity after all. However, despite my best efforts, it wasn't long before those same issues began to rear their ugly head. I knew my struggles at work couldn't be a lack of interest, or motivation. I was finally getting to do what I had always dreamed of: pitching and publishing my own thoughts and ideas. So why did it feel like I was constantly working myself into exhaustion? Why was it so hard for me to stay on task? The harsh reality began to set in: maybe this was something even I, the great control freak, couldn't handle on my own.

I lay awake one night, a misspelled headline from the day earlier replaying in my head, when I half-jokingly typed "Why do I keep making stupid mistakes at work" into google. An article titled "Signs You May Have ADHD," followed by another whose headline read, "Living With Adult ADHD" appeared on my screen. I remember that stomach-churning feeling as I scrolled through page after page of ADHD explainers — each one describing challenges I had faced my entire life, with frightening accuracy.

It finally dawned on me that instead of accepting the beautiful brain I was born with I had been trying to change it— a losing battle from the start.

Even though my visit to CAMH didn't reveal anything I hadn't previously suspected, I left my appointment with more questions than I had answers. Wasn't ADHD a disorder reserved for rambunctious 8 year old boys? I didn't know any 29-year-old women, who were aspiring writers with ADHD. In fact I didn't know any women living with the disorder at all. And that in itself is a larger problem. According to UCLA Health the underdiagnosis of ADHD is directly correlated to how often ADHD goes undiagnosed in young girls. Even though there is plenty of existing research that demonstrates ADHD often shows up differently in boys than it does girls the signs often go missed. My chronically messy room, or paper-filled backpack as a child would have been early indicators that I was living with the disorder, but it's difficult to identify something you were never searching for in the first place.

When I transitioned out of full time editorial into a copywriting position at a thriving beauty company it seemed like all my efforts had finally paid off. I had finally secured a role that combined all my skills and interests, and offered a livable salary in one of Canada's most expensive cities. I also had something I hadn't had in any of my previous roles: acceptance of my ADHD and management strategies.

While I made the decision not to disclose my ADHD diagnosis with my current employer, many people choose to do otherwise and receive extremely beneficial accommodations because of it. I have taken the initiative to educate myself about ADHD, and its unique impact on my life. Interesting and quirky reads like "You Mean I'm Not Lazy, Stupid or Crazy?!" by Kate Kelly and Peggy Ramundo, and "The Disorganized Mind" by Nancy A. Ratey has helped me deepen my understanding, while making me feel less alone.

I also put systems in place that worked for me. A key part of successfully managing my ADHD symptoms, while navigating a fast-paced, deadline driven, workplace was learning how to work with my brain instead of against it. Here are some strategies and lifestyle changes I have found particularly helpful:

Am I perfect? Obviously not — and some days neither are these coping mechanisms. But I'm learning and growing, and I'm accepting myself for the imperfect human being that I am. Sure, I wish I had been able to identify my disorder sooner, but if I had I wouldn't be able to share my journey with you. In managing my ADHD, I have uncovered the beauty that exists in being different. I am empowered by how intimately I have gotten to know and understand my mind and the unique way it operates. And I am comforted by the fact that there is no one on Earth who moves through the world like I do, and for me, that has been the greatest lesson I've learned so far.

Kenisha Alexander is a freelance journalist and full-time beauty copywriter from Toronto. She enjoys covering everything from health and wellness to beauty and business. Aside from PS you can find her words in Elle, BuzzFeed, Canadian Business, Fashion, and more.