andrew mitchell

Somehow I turned 45 today; easily the oldest I've ever been.

Ages ago, in the pre Covid days, I had designs on a birthday party. In fact, a multi-location party. The 23rd September was to be spent in Manchester, celebrating my great friend Andy's 50th, and the next day we'd hightail it back to Newcastle for my 40th. The pandemic put pay to that notion.

To be honest, I was never truly sold on the idea. Bringing everyone I know together for a knees-up sounds great in principle, but it also sounds like a uneasy emotional rollercoaster that I'd never be able to really prepare for. I find parties hard; lovely but hard. I've never been able to put my finger on it. I really need to steel my resolve to go them. Thankfully sweet lady alcohol is usually on hand to help dial down the swirling sense of anxiety I have just thinking about them.

On Friday I was finally, after a lot of form filling and interviews, diagnosed with Inattentive ADHD. With the added bonus of suspected Autism to boot. I've yet to really process any of this but the whole parties give me the ick now makes a lot more sense. I long held the belief that my Cyclothymia riddled brain was holding hands with a mysterious other force; one of compulsion, racing thoughts and zero focus.

I remember being 13, when I first got glasses, seeing the world in crystal clear clarity for the first time. It was remarkable. The leaves on trees, the beauty of flowers, the detail in everything. Sadly it's not one of the those cute Reddit videos when babies get given plastic glasses for the first time but you get the picture. Receiving an ADHD diagnosis is like having blinkers taken off. You're able to look back over your entire life and realise there IS a reason for your actions and behaviours over the years. I wasn't just the weird kid I was convinced I was; there was something else at play.

In my diagnostic interview with my clinic psychologist I described my life as if being cast in a TV show role that I never wanted. Being fairly diligent, I've learned my lines, been through blocking and know my marks, I just don't want to be there, knowing all too well I’ve been hopelessly misscast. For the most part, my interactions with the real world sees me going through the motions. I know how to make people laugh, I'm able to empathise, to offer help and support but, to me anyway, a lot of things feels forced and performative. The problem is, I've done this for so very long as a way of keeping a spotlight off myself I don't actually know how I really behave in social settings. Or how to receive praise. Wew, that is something that turns my stomach.

Years ago, I had the addmittedly annoying habit of clicking my pen while concentrating on anything at work. The percussive, repetitive motion soothed me, it let me concentrate on reports and papers while simulatanously driving my colleagues up the wall. A co-worker pointed it out, imploring me to stop, which I immediately did, terribly ashamed of causing others distress. Once it was pointed out, I added it to the big mental list I carry around with me of things that I can't do because they annoy other people and it’s a big ol' list believe you me.

I wasn't even aware until a few months ago that this, and similar behaviours, are known as 'stimming;' a type of self soothing that can improve mood, focus, information processing, decision making and motivation while reducing sensory sensitivity and anxiety levels. The same goes for my fidgeting and twitching. I'm so conscious of it, after another colleague brought it up years and years ago, that I purposely avoid doing it where I can which can be really hard.

Now, I need to reapply some of these things to help make my daily life less of a daily bin fire. This is why I treated myself, as a birthday present from me to me, to a mechanical keyboard. My earliest computer memories are of the sumptuous sounds and feels of a weighted, clicky keyboard. This is quite possibly the only type of ASMR I could vibe with; the rest of it needs to get immediately into the bin. But, as someone who its incapable of brevity, writing this post today has been a delight; a soothing, stimulating delight. It's also served to stop me from applying to for the Access to Work funding I need for ADHD coaching, because that seems a little tragic to be applying for on my birthday, maybes tomorrow instead.

I'm sure there'll be more ADHD content coming just as soon as my brain instructs me to research the shit out of it and fathom out what I do now.