Read an Excerpt
Introduction: Why is Everyone Crying?!
One of the weirdest things that has happened to us both over the last year, is that people who have seen our social media accounts have begun stopping us in the street. It’s always such a wonderful reminder of the real humans who are watching what we create. Something that has shocked me, though, is that the majority of people we’ve met have started crying.
The reason I find that odd is that our account is what I think most people would call a comedy account. It’s meant to be humorous. I’m not saying either of us is the next Ricky Gervais (although if you saw the pyjama-clad dance moves she pulls before bed, you might start to believe it), but on the whole we create light-hearted moments from our life and share them on the internet. So why were people crying?
After this had happened a few times, I turned to my wife as we were walking away from a young woman who had stopped us in Canterbury. Baffled, I whispered, “Babe . . . why was she crying? Did I say something wrong?”
One thing I’ve learned is that neurodivergent people are incredibly sensitive. I don’t mean that in the way society does, as some kind of negative, some kind of too-much-ness—I mean it in the best way. The neurodivergent people I know are really connected to themselves and those around them, so when one of them starts crying, I genuinely wonder where I’ve gone wrong.
Of course, my ADHD wife knew exactly why this young woman, and all the rest of the people we met, were crying. It’s almost like they speak the same language, an unwritten dialogue of understanding that comes, ironically, from a lifetime of being misunderstood. She knew why they were crying because she’s one of them.
And now, at this point, I’d like to introduce you to my ADHD wife, Rox.
Meet My ADHD Wife
Hi, I’m Rox, AKA the ADHD wife! I’m so happy that I get to talk to you. First, let me remind you to go take the washing out of the dryer, and second, I’ll pick up where Rich left off and explain why people we meet start crying.
It’s shame. The same shame I had felt for my entire life, until I received an ADHD diagnosis at age 36 and, soon afterward, became part of an incredible internet community of people just like me. I remember my first time watching an “ADHD Symptoms” video on TikTok, before I knew I had it. I burst into tears. For the first time in my life, my inner monologue, my strange and very weird struggles, were being shared by somebody else. I remember being struck so clearly by the following words: Oh my god, it isn’t just me.
Growing up with undiagnosed ADHD left me feeling utterly broken for many years. I was constantly torn between my desperate need to achieve my “gifted child” potential and my personal shame over the fact I couldn’t make my bed, do my washing, or take care of my finances. When you stack years of feeling like a failure on top of each other, you get a person with rock-bottom self-esteem. There’s a sense of despair at the fact that you just cannot get hold of your life no matter how hard you try. You feel judged by your family; you’re the black sheep, the failure, the one who always quits, the one who’s always late, the one who will never make it . . . You become somebody who is ashamed of themselves. Can you guess how people who are ashamed of themselves live? I’ll give you a hint: dangerously. Drink, drugs, sex, shopping. Anything to avoid the pain of being themselves. Needless to say, the pursuit of those things, although it brings temporary relief, only leads you to an even darker place.
I get to share the light-hearted moments now, only because I somehow made it through the really dark ones. These are moments that won’t ever be shared on the internet because I was genuinely struggling to stay alive. I remember being sat in a pitch-black apartment, after my electricity was cut off for late payment, surrounded by empty bottles that had contained the alcohol I used to self-medicate the anxiety, wishing the pain would stop.
Getting to create content now, and reach people who may be struggling like I once did, is an absolute privilege. I am so lucky to have had therapy, to be sober, and to have met the most incredible partner. However, to get back to Rich’s point, I’m not surprised that when we meet people like me, they very often begin to cry. I know the dark nights that people with an ADHD diagnosis have had to get through, often alone. I know the shame that living undiagnosed can bring, and I know the absolute relief of watching a 30-second video on TikTok and being able to breathe for the first time in 30 years, because Oh my god, it isn’t just me.
