Are You Ashamed of Your ADHD?

by Cynthia Hammer, MSW

A college student, Ace, worked part-time in the office of ADD Resources, a non-profit organization I founded and ran for several years. The office phone has two rings. With one ring, it was a phone call, and I should pick up. With the other ring, it was a fax, and I should ignore the call. However, my brain never remembered. Whenever the phone rang, I answered.

One day the phone rang for a fax. Of course, I picked up, immediately realized my mistake and hung up. The phone rang again a few seconds later. With her hand, as I reached to pick it up, Ace stopped me. The phone was ringing again for a fax. I was appreciative but ashamed that in less than 30 seconds, I would make the same mistake again.

Eleanor Roosevelt once said, “No one can make you feel inferior without your consent.” Similarly, I think, “No one can make you feel ashamed if you don’t concur.” We are in charge of whether or not we feel shame. Too often, without input from others, we feel shame. However, the attitude and words of others can make our shaming experiences more intense. To protect ourselves, we need to stay away from toxic people.

Before I learned about my ADHD, I was a social worker in a large hospital. Whenever I needed to use the copy machine, I had to ask the secretary to show me. (This was years ago when copiers were more complicated.) I didn't know why I couldn't remember how to make copies, but I needed help every time! Asking for help took more courage than I had some days! The secretary had what I can only describe as a snooty attitude. As a result my inadequacy with copying got magnified in my mind.

But there were many situations when I was shamed by my self-talk.

Following one of my many car accidents, I called the insurance company to make a report. The agent turned on a recorder and asked me a series of questions, "What was the make of the other car? Which car got to the intersection first? How many people were in the other car? What was the damage? How fast were you driving? etc." For each question, I answered, "I don't know."

How could I not know? What did the agent think? How stupid could I be to not notice those things?

Later that year, after my diagnosis of ADHD, my doctor understood my behavior and explained, "Your mind was probably thinking about what you were going to make for dinner when the accident happened.” Now I know, he was probably right!

Learning about my inattentive ADHD reduced my shaming self-talk. I learned to stop putting myself down for behaviors I couldn’t help, and I learned to value my strengths and accept my weaknesses as part of who I am. It was a journey to wholeness.

I hope your ADHD journey ends in the same place, in self-acceptance and wholeness.