Diagnosed at 49: It Wasn’t Laziness. It Was ADHD.
I never knew I had ADHD. I wasn’t hyper, so I figured everyone got distracted sometimes. I got by—but always felt just a little behind. In college, I drank a lot. It was the only time I felt level. I passed my classes, but rarely got A’s. I thought I just wasn’t that smart.
At 19, I had a serious car accident. I blamed the fog, forgetfulness, and fatigue on that. I worked in restaurants, tried hard, but coworkers called me lazy. Once, someone asked, “Are you slow or something?” I laughed it off, but it stuck with me.
Eventually, I earned a degree and started in HR. I worked hard but lost my job to mistakes and layoffs. When perimenopause hit, everything worsened. I started therapy, told my story, and my counselor asked if ADHD ran in my family. It did.
At 49, I was diagnosed. Everything clicked—the memory issues, the guilt, the shame. It wasn’t a flaw. It was ADHD. Getting diagnosed brought relief and grief.
Jeannette