ADHD - My journey & ties to addiction

I didn’t think I could have ADHD

ADHD isn’t something I’ve been formally diagnosed with, but the more I’ve learned about it, the more it describes my experience. It was first suggested to me during my counselling training as I was struggling in my learning environment (much like I had always done as a child). I asked to be tested for dyslexia but was consequently diagnosed with dyspraxia. It was recommended I test for ADHD, but I dismissed it then. Looking back, I think this was because I was influenced by the stigma attached to it.

I thought of the naughty schoolboy in class who can't sit still and always gets into trouble and causes mass disruption, or the more recent idea of someone who spends too much time on social media, brought up by screens. This didn't fit with me, or how I saw myself.

Although I now believe I built coping strategies to mask my hyperactivity, I still felt it acutely, and at times it was excruciating

I didn’t want to be assessed for ADHD because I didn’t want that label, nor could I see how it would be helpful.

A PowerPoint that described my life

Later, when working in drug and alcohol service, I noticed most people coming in for assessments had ADHD – either diagnosed or suspected. It made me very curious about what the link might be.

Until then, I’d mainly seen addiction through the lens of attachment. This was a new angle – and I realised I didn’t really understand what ADHD actually was. I just had some preconceived stereotypes.

I went along to a Seed talk by Dr James Brown. I wasn't quite prepared for what was going to happen that evening. As I sat in the audience, I watched as a man talked through a PowerPoint presentation based on my life. It was disorientating, and yet, there was a sense of relief. I noticed it felt great to be in a room packed full of people who also identified with the same experience.

I have always felt like there is something slightly different for me, but not been able to put my finger on it. I would flit between feeling different, feeling inadequate, or like I was always failing at things others seemed to accomplish. While I know everyone works hard, it felt like I earnestly strove forward only to end up back where I started, or even further back sometimes. It’s like climbing a mountain – one step forward, two steps back. I’ve forgotten half the things I need, I don’t have a tent, and my backpack’s got a hole in it.

The first thing that made me sit up and pay attention was when Dr Brown mentioned Default Mode Network (DMN). If you’re like me, technical jargon might be a switch-off, but bear with me. This is fairly straightforward. Simply put, it’s the network that is activated when you are in default mode. The theory is that there is a part of our brain that kicks in automatically when we are not doing tasks that is generally thinking about the past and future, and daydreaming and thinking about things that give us a sense of self, who we are. And there is a task mode network that clicks in when we are focusing on things.

Ever felt like you got lost in work or some sort of activity? That's because the self-referential DMN has switched off.

So why did this get my attention? Because Dr Brown revealed to us that DMN does not switch off for people with ADHD. I’ll repeat that. DMN does not switch off for people with ADHD. It felt like he had given words to describe this struggle I have had all my life. I didn't have words for it because I didn't know what was normal and what wasn't. I didn't know that other people would just click into a task-based network with comparative ease.

Must try harder

The message I kept getting from teachers, parents and people around me was that I lacked focus, I was sleepy, I lacked motivation, I was lazy. I even had a teacher who called me Slow Joe in front of the entire class, which stuck as a nickname for some time.

My school reports always said good potential. Must try harder. Doesn't do his homework.

Rejection sensitivity

The second thing that Dr Brown said that hooked me in was that it was very common for those who had ADHD to experience a high sensitivity to rejection or the potential of it. This is something that has made my ability to socialise unbearable, growing up and beyond into adult life.

I would replay conversations, rehearse future interactions, and stay hyper-vigilant for anything I might’ve said that could upset someone. I’d agonise over what I might’ve said wrong in a group setting – imagining judgment from my peers (who, in reality, were very lovely). I became incredibly good at masking after a while, but the internal anguish I have experienced has been excruciating.

This was one of the things that led to me drinking excessively in my adolescence and twenties. Alcohol took that away and made it possible for me to socialise. This, however, is not the primary reason that ADHD is linked to addiction. This was the bit that really made sense.

The dopamine hunter

The primary reason that ADHD is linked to addiction is that people with ADHD tend to have low levels of dopamine. As a result, there is always an extra emphasis on finding that dopamine hit.

I like to think of it as being a dopamine hunter.

In fact, some believe that ADHD is a characteristic that would have been immensely helpful for humans in hunting roles. That dopamine lack means constantly looking for new and interesting stimuli. That’s great if you’re tracking an animal. Less helpful if you’re sitting in a classroom. Or trying to do a tax return. In the latter scenario, I will need to have several snack breaks, tea breaks, movement breaks, and feel an elevated level of restlessness and inpatient tension throughout the task. I will also have a surprising ability to complete multiple little jobs that have been on my list for months.

Hang on a minute. Was I not supposed to be linking this to addiction?

Sorry, you'll have to bear with me. So yes, this dopamine deficiency means that when you get that warm fuzzy feeling from having a drink, it feels like an absolute halleluiah moment in a normally fractured and spikey state. This was definitely my experience of it.

The other thing likely to be lacking in an ADHD brain is noradrenaline. This is linked with impulse control. So low dopamine causes a more intense craving, and low noradrenaline makes it harder not to act or to reach out for something, anything to relieve the tension, be it alcohol, drugs, porn, TV, biscuits, work, exercise, TikTok, take away, coffee, metal detecting… I think you get it.

When bad things happen to sensitive people

So, all of this was chiming with my experience, and so many of the stories of the people I heard coming into drug and alcohol services. These were sensitive, often creative, often spiritual beings who had been stigmatised for their struggles, which they hadn’t chosen but had become coping mechanisms for living in a world that doesn’t suit their neurotype.

Obviously, that’s not the only thing that leads to addiction. There's usually one other major component, which is a series of traumas that mean that their already sensitive organism (that has been highly stressed due to being told it is not good, or worthy of value by societal standards) is unable to then cope with bereavement, financial loss, or relationship breakdown  (basically any loss that is likely to crop up within most human lives).

And that is another message likely to be received. Everyone goes through this, so why can't you cope?

If you add in adverse childhood experience, then there is truly little chance of not being drawn towards finding some external solution to end the unbearable tension, distress, anxiety or depression or whatever that person may use to describe their internal state. It’s not a place anyone would want to be.

So, this is what I saw. This one thing seemed to come up again and again in nearly everyone I met. They were sensitive people who had a host of terrible things happen in their lives. Stigmatised men and women doing their best with the cards stacked against them and being blamed for what was mostly a genetic, inherited hand, with some incredibly tough life experience piled on top. This would often lead to being dismissed again and again, meaning people would need to try harder to be heard and seen.

Often, what is seen as a victim mentality is actually a coping mechanism to get help when all other options have failed. It's also known as learnt helplessness. Once someone believes they’re incapable – or even that they don’t matter – they feel helpless. The only way out is to get help. The only way to get help is to become a victim. It follows that help can become a crutch that a person can’t let go of. They can be given all the advice and care in the world, but with no spark of hope – or shred of self-belief – they can’t get the engine started.

Once in that mindset, it’s exceedingly difficult to get out, and the problem is that others around see an adult who is blaming everything in the world but themselves. Most find it difficult to feel sympathetic for that narrative, and because of that, do not see the human behind it.

Is there a way out?

I wish I could offer a light at the end of the tunnel here, but the truth is, currently there are a lot of unhappy endings to this situation. I believe we each have a responsibility – and as a society – to educate ourselves about what is behind addiction and try and understand how people end up in such desperate situations.

I honestly believe it is relevant to us all.

We are becoming so aware of mental health generally, but for some reason, there is still so much stigma about addiction and neurodiversity. I see this as the current challenge for society.

Ignoring it and hoping it will go away, or even worse, blaming those impacted, will only make things worse. Nobody wants to have a life enslaved to addiction. You may hear someone in addiction say they do not want to change anything, but I suspect that is similar to a victim of abuse finding it hard to leave their abuser.

It may seem obvious, but I think we still forget this very important fact.

It is not a choice.

If someone in addiction could change their life, of course, they absolutely would. I have gone off track, and I am no longer talking about ADHD, but of course, I feel all of this is especially important and very intertwined.

Addiction: An external solution to an internal problem

So, what of my original understanding that addiction is attachment-based? Well, I still feel this holds true. I personally believe that we all carry an attachment-based wound. What I mean by this is that we all have a longing or feeling of something unmet within us. How this unmet thing manifests in each of us is unique, like a fingerprint, and differs in intensity. This stems from childhood and primarily from the attachment we formed as babies or toddlers. This internal wound often leads to a feeling of something missing, that can seem momentarily met when something external, like alcohol, makes us feel whole. This will work for a while, but it won't work long term because the next day, when the alcohol has worn off, our nervous system will have gone into overdrive – still trying to counter the suppressing effects of the alcohol – leaving us more anxious and fearful than before. The safety alcohol gave us – that felt akin to love – gets thrown back in our face the next day. A little like an abusive partner or parent who switches between love and cruelty.

So, how does this link to ADHD?

This is where it gets a bit more complex. it is disputed as to whether ADHD is related to attachment and developmental experience. However, it is widely agreed that it creates an elevated level of sensitivity. This means that the person experiencing it will more likely suffer traumas from difficult early experiences than someone who is neuro normative. Therefore, someone with ADHD is more likely to have a more extreme reaction to any attachment wound that leads to addiction, as well as having a dopamine deficiency, having difficulty with impulse control, and, on top of all that, being highly sensitive to rejection, which could lead to low confidence. So, it’s averitable cocktail of things that are likely to make someone find it exceedingly difficult once they have experienced a relief from their internal state not to reach for that drink, drug, or any other external solution when things become difficult.

There is a way forward

I worry that all this sounds very heavy – and it is – but there is another side to it. For me, this journey has been challenging, but it has also explained so much in my life. It has helped me put my experiences into the context of psychological theory, neuroscience and helped me feel more acceptance and less shame about my past.

It is from this viewpoint that I feel better about myself than I ever had. It helped me to believe that I am OK, I am enough, and I have lots to offer the world.

Facing what we do not want to see is the path to growth.

I believe there is a collective shadow in society, and I believe addiction is a big part of it.

We don’t want to believe that. We are all susceptible to the same coping strategies as addicts, and we all potentially could end up in similar situations given the right conditions.

And we often don’t see that we are the same species as the people who lie in dirty sleeping bags in shop doorways or who stumble about incoherent, unclean, unseen in the streets.

And furthermore, maybe what some label the ‘snowflake’ generation is really a generation that’s standing up to structural injustice. They have had enough. They have needs and are not going to be shut down or brushed aside. And that might feel abominable to older generations who, in turn, have not had their needs met and have been shut down.

But maybe what we all need to do is accept that some people who feel like victims are victims. And that maybe, just maybe, we are too. 

That might be a hard pill to swallow.

We don’t want to admit to being a victim!?

Do we?

Perhaps, being a victim doesn’t have to mean weakness. It can be information that allows anger to arise against injustice; it can help us forgive what we had no control over, what we previously thought were shortcomings; it can give us tools to prepare us for whatever is on our horizon.

Maybe if we strive harder to understand the struggles of those who are not coping. Be it the yearning and discomfort of addiction; the dopamine hunting of ADHD – which are just two examples of many – we will, in turn, find more kindness and forgiveness for ourselves as we recognise our own suffering in others.