With the dismal Nihal Arthanayake mercifully on holiday from his BBC Radio Five Live show, I was relieved to learn that his replacement, the infinitely more able Gethin Jones, would be interviewing the comedian Shaparak Khorsandi about her recent book Scatter Brain. Where Arthanayake goes all around the houses during his clunky interviews, Jones at least had the ability to enable Khorsandi to explain how ADHD had affected her life. She was diagnosed in her forties, which is apparently quite late in life, so I wonder how they would report my story of being diagnosed in my mid sixties? While the interview was interesting, moving and funny, I found it utterly and literally depressing. But why?
Hmm. But why? I have no idea. I just do. I start off with the best of intentions, to listen to and learn from the experience of others and I end up more desolate than I was before. Khorsandi’s story was fascinating up until the point when an expert on the subject of ADHD joined in. Don’t get me wrong: she spoke sensibly and knowledgeably but she lost me when she started banging on about the available resources for ADHD treatment. By now, it was all about me. There are hardly any resources available for me – no therapy, no drugs; no nothing – and having paid for and obtained a diagnosis through the private health vulture sector, which it turned out was not the beginning of a new day, whatever I mean by that, but the continuation of the old one.
Still, having added to my misery, I decided to take a look at one of the so-called ‘resources’, a website called ADDitude. And to be fair, it’s very good. Not, by any stretch, a suitable treatment for a neurological condition, an actual disorder, which Khorsandi wrongly suggested it wasn’t (the clue is in word ‘disorder’, as the expert pointed out). Anyway, the website suggested I take another ADHD test and there were some unexpected results.
Firstly, the tests don’t really give a diagnosis, but they do provide indicators, not just that you may have ADHD, but that you can also have other stuff. I discovered that in addition to ADHD I could well have the following conditions:
- Bipolar disorder
- Depression (spoiler alert: I already do)
- Sensory Processing Disorder (me neither)
- Obsessive-compulsive disorder
- Autism Spectrum Disorder
- Attention deficit hyperactivity disorder (D’oh)
- Oppositional defiant disorder
- Dyscalculia
- Anxiety (yes, I know)
I looked at the list. What? No Avoidant/Restrictive Food Intake Disorder and Post-traumatic stress disorder? Actual therapists have suggested I could have one or both conditions and now, it turns I may well have seven further undiagnosed conditions as well as ARFID and PTSD. But, the website adds, don’t take its word for it: ‘These results are not a diagnosis and are not a replacement for evaluation and diagnosis by a medical professional. If you remain concerned, please consult a professional.’ Phew! That’s all right, then.
I’m coming up with a plan of action now. As the GP masquerading under the description of ‘My GP’ is calling me on Friday morning for a ten minute consultation about my recent blood tests, I am going to ask him whether, in addition to depression, anxiety and ADHD, I have any, or all, of the above. Actually, I have a better idea: I’ll ask him to provide me with a list of things I probably haven’t got. I reckon there can’t be many, perhaps there aren’t any.
At the start of the show, I thought it would be really useful and, I suppose, if you were new to the subject, it might have been. But in truth, despite Gethin Jones’ efforts, there was nothing new to say. And the thing he and his guests could have said – that the NHS has nothing for anyone with a mental health or neurological condition – they didn’t, bar the long waiting lists for assessments, but even here no one pointed out that in many areas, like Bristol, the waiting list for an ADHD assessment is seven years, plenty of time to see your life being ruined in front of your eyes. My ADHD diagnosis merely confirmed why my life was ruined and nothing else.
Khorsandi’s appearance was, I felt, a useful public service. And she made it clear that she became successful despite her disorder, not because of it, and there was none of that bollocks you get from some people about ADHD being their ‘super power’.
I might read her book and then again I might not. I enjoyed listening to her but I came out of it feeling deflated. That wasn’t her fault because all of my hope has long gone anyway, but somehow, as always with these things, I hang on for a glimpse of that proverbial light at the end of the tunnel, only to find there isn’t one.
