From Revelation to Revolution

NB The following is a submission in the https://www.creativefuture.org.uk competition and is the first thing I’ve ever entered! 

Mount Everest was “discovered” in 1856. I am quite sure it didn’t just fall from the sky that year. My neurodivergence was diagnosed in 2023 when I was 45 and it didn’t fall from the sky either.  

I am a statistic in the rising numbers of women seeking support with ADHD and Autism that is giving rise to anxiety in the media and the medical community. A mountain to climb in terms of allocating resources with no easy route to traverse. Social media blamed for us all coming out of the woodwork and demanding that we are identified and supported in numbers great enough to cause a global medication shortage.  

ADHD has been around since 1775 in medical literature though, so having to face the fact that diagnostic criteria has been based on 8-year-old boys and doesn’t quite fit women like me has taken a bit of a change in thinking for the medical community.  

Never quite aligning with those around me. I cultivated a mask so complete that I almost managed to obscure myself entirely. In reality I was a changeling child, unlike the others and slowly dying inside as I tried and failed to find nourishment in the places others feasted. Frightened of being cast from the tribe. I got bigger and louder and made myself indispensable in an attempt to fight back against the fading of myself. Embracing an identity disparate from my own took all my energy and my self sought refuge in books and solitude until I couldn’t find her anymore. I constructed a box around me of fairground mirrors to reflect others back to themselves so they would allow me to stay. And within that box my self admitted defeat. 

I felt like a candle, using my work in adulthood to light the way for neurodivergent children. Operating among those who didn’t know the way. Burning myself and attempting to shield the guttering flame as I led them through the storm. Grateful for the chance to be considered useful, to be wanted and needed for what I knew. Consuming myself and using all my energy to prevent others from extinguishing the tiny, precious flame with which I was attempting to bring warmth and light.  

I was diagnosed in October, as we entered the rawness of winter and the dying of the light. My connection to nature is essential. It connects me to my own true nature. I am never too much for the ocean, don’t have to quieten myself to match the sunrise. But there are dangers in the night and the darkness pressed against my windows.  

I found myself compelled to walk outside every day. Illuminated by head torch on dark mornings, struggling through mud and unable to access the light I needed to energise me. And yet I was finding myself on these walks, the changing seasons bringing sunrises in which I was alight, not required to fit in. I just belong here.  

I used this wintering time to retreat into my cave where I kept myself warm and quiet. Surrendering to the dark and seeking relief from the storm that continually threatened to extinguish my flame. I had expended all my energy trying to protect that guttering, smoking stump and had to rest. And in that rest, I found my self. Quiet, thoughtful and intentional. I sat with her and gained her trust; I made her promises that I would protect her and stop shutting her away.  

It turns out that she is a fabulous problem solver, she is deeply connected to the natural world and that she notices everything around her. As I emerge from the dark I re-enter a world that sees people like me as a problem to be solved, a drain on precious resources. How ironic that the traits once viewed as essential to survival are so disabling in our modern society. A society that prizes homogeneity of thought and is increasingly predictable and sedentary. Fearful and risk averse to combat scarcity.  

But we are the changemakers, the light bringers. A section of the tribe that ensured survival. Those who could use their connection to the world around them and their energy to protect others and seek abundance. Attuned to the environment around them at a rate their people couldn’t keep up with and able to see connections like a silken web, invisible to the rest of them.  

My diagnosis has allowed me to have the confidence to lean into these differences. To embrace my position in society as an outlier, a canary in the coalmine. I needed this crucible in which to construct my fire. My knowledge is fuel, and I can share the light and warmth with those who scale the peak I have climbed. I amplify my light instead of allowing it to be consumed by others.  

Unafraid now, I no longer need to trim the wick and shelter the guttering flame. I burn steadily, lighting other flames with my writing, connected like a network of beacons across the mountaintops.