What is it like to live with ADHD and autism?

At the age of 25, I was diagnosed with ADHD after a year spent thinking daily about the best way to end my life, moving to a different country every month, and quitting whatever job I had started. The diagnosis helped me make sense of my life, but it didn’t fully fit my experiences.

Now, six years later, I finally have the missing piece of the puzzle: an autism diagnosis.

This may sound like a distant diagnosis to most people, but I was relieved. It explained a lot to me about my life so far and why I always struggled with social situations.

Relationships have always confused me

As a child, I wondered why we had to visit family for Christmas just because we shared DNA. The “because they will always be there for you” response felt transactional to me and has shaped the way I have approached every relationship since.

I’ve spent my life wondering how to be useful to people in the relentlessly exhausting social trade. I’m constantly regulating everything – from forcing myself to make “proper” eye contact to saying the “right” things – but I never stick to my own pre-planned script. ADHD impulsivity sees me veering off course, often saying the wrong thing, and then agonizing over it for hours.

I’ve lost count of how many people have stopped contacting me for reasons I will never know. Group settings are even worse because the competing demands overwhelm me to the point that I often find myself hiding in the bathroom with my brain ready to explode.

Turning off the ADHD “noise” with alcohol

After moving abroad at the age of 13, I discovered a way to turn off the constant AuDHD radio of thoughts going through my head. The paralyzing drunkenness shut down my brainat least temporarily. This coping strategy continued until I was diagnosed with ADHD; If possible, I would start social interactions with a shot of tequila.

ADHD-related disinhibition meant that my teenage self-drinking cocktails were abandoned by strangers and taken from bar tables. Loud, crowded clubs made me chronically overstimulated due to my autism. The sensory overload was so intense that I often fell asleep in the middle of the noise – a shutdown reaction when my brain just couldn’t cope. It wasn’t unusual for my friends to find me huddled next to a blaring loudspeaker.

However, it didn’t just happen in clubs. One time my friends spent the whole night looking for me in a pub until they found me unconscious under a pile of coats. It doesn’t matter whether it’s noise, light, or just the intensity of being around people; all of this can lead to overstimulation and then shutdown. I often fell asleep during classes, at the cinema, and even during dinner.

I couldn’t understand why I kept putting myself into situations that caused me so much stress. Now here it is: it was easier to blend in with the noise than to be stuck in my own thoughts. However, such a life was like being a prisoner of a sadistic writer working on the sixth season of a terrible TV show.

Unable to trust myself, I took guidance from those who seemed to know better – but not everyone has your best interests at heart.

I had doubts about the “right” way to behave

As a teenage model, I didn’t know how to behave “properly” and was therefore easily manipulated. When I tried to hide from the stylists who dressed me, they laughed and explained that they were gay. My guilt led me into a pattern where I would immediately undress at the request of strangers in public places, whether they were casting directors in their offices, photographers on set, or agents who invited me to meetings. For years, I was terrified of offending anyone, constantly adapting to the expectations of those around me.