ADHD, Art, and Getting out of your own way

At the start of this year, I was diagnosed with ADHD. I’ve gone back and forth over whether or not I would ever talk about it online. Despite being an open book in my private life, and oversharing being one of the many traits that led me to my diagnosis, I never felt sure that I wanted this to define me.

But then an artist reached out to Flos, and proposed a project that she wanted to collaborate on. A weekend of events celebrating neurodivergent and disabled artists. At that point I didn’t feel like I could ask artists to put themselves out there and not do the same myself.

So here we are. 

Getting my ADHD diagnosis

It was a really long journey to getting a diagnosis. With five years of that being purely because I couldn’t quite make the step to actually start the process. I got really close in 2020, when everything felt like it was falling apart in my inner world, and I was desperate for help. And yet, somehow, I still managed to avoid actually taking the leap to speak to someone. I continued like this for the next five years, talking with my family and friends about how ‘I’m sure I have it’, but not being able to simply book the GP appointment. 

I’m sure a lot of this was wrapped up in the fact that I was hearing about 2, 3, 5 and even 10 year long waiting lists to even be assessed. It feels like a particularly bad joke when a huge barrier for people with ADHD is starting tasks that feel really big. How do they expect someone to get on a waiting list that feels so daunting?

I was fortunate enough that in 2025, when I finally felt like enough was enough, I found out about the Right To Choose pathway in England. I was able to get an assessment within 6 months, and left the appointment with an answer. Yep, all those things you’ve been wondering about for over half a decade are exactly what you thought. Welcome to the club. 

Even in the lead up to the appointment I kept second-guessing myself, preparing for them to turn around and say, you don’t have ADHD, get a grip. Once I had my answer, I didn’t know exactly what to think or feel. On one hand I felt vindicated, but also on the other, I felt even more confused. What does this mean? Does this change anything? Should people treat me differently now? Do I even want that?

ADHD and asking for help

Neurodivergence, like many hidden disabilities, can present a lot of challenges. It’s difficult to ask people to make accommodations for you when they can’t actually see what you’re struggling with. Holding the door for someone in a wheelchair is a much simpler interaction than being patient when someone is constantly interrupting you, flaking on plans that they forgot about or having an outsized emotional reaction to something you’ve said or done (to name a few).

I didn’t know what to ask of my friends or family, or if I even should ask for it. And I couldn’t tell how much I should take accountability for, and what was outside of my control. At the end of the day I do WANT to be an easy person to be around. But at the same time, sometimes my brain works in ways that aren’t conducive to that. 

I can take up a lot of space without trying to, and it’s the source of a lot of insecurity. I feel grateful that I’ve been able to hold on to the friends that I have today, and that I can be completely myself with them. I owe them a lot. 

Stress-fuel and burning out

In a lot of ways I’m able to pat myself on the back and say, ‘Just LOOK at all the things you’ve achieved, and how much you’ve done.’ 

Cath and I set up Flos Collective at the end of 2022, with no idea of how much it would grow and shape the direction of our lives. We were truly flying by the seat of our pants: experimenting, collaborating and enjoying the freedom that comes with owning your project.  

Since the end of 2024, I’ve been doing all of this while juggling a full-time job. Despite feeling proud of everything I’ve managed to do over the past few years, it hasn’t been easy.

A huge part of my ADHD (I think), is that I don’t know how to slow down. I genuinely can’t remember the last time I sat by myself and just existed. I don’t even know what that person looks like.  I am fueled in a lot of ways by stress. I can’t imagine what it must be like to go home at the end of the day and just chill. I don’t think I even know HOW to chill. 

I feel as though I’m in a perpetual spiral of chasing a million things, creating brand new projects to occupy my evenings, and finding new and inventive ways to avoid ever slowing down, and then, eventually and inevitably, burning out. 

Tired of Waiting - Returning to my practice

To go back to the inspiration behind this blog (or confession): earlier this year Cath and I were approached by singer/songwriter and fellow ADHD Artist, Sophie Cotton, to help put on a programme of events specifically FOR neurodivergent and disabled artists to put themselves out there. Sophie came with a name ready, Tired of Waiting, which is also the name of her podcast that explores themes of getting out of your own way, navigating the art world, and dealing with challenges including disabilities.

Since then, I’ve been thinking a lot about what I’m Tired of Waiting for. It’s actually helped me to reflect a lot on the things I’ve been avoiding, and the areas of my life I’m holding myself back in.

I was having a conversation with some friends a few months back, and giving myself more credit than I deserved for not being impacted by fear of failure. (HA!)

 ‘Cath and I have been able to keep Flos going EVEN when we’ve had rejection after rejection from funders.’ 

Half-way through the conversation though, I caught myself. ‘Although, I guess I did study painting, it’s something that I love and that I’m good at, but I don’t do it. Ever.’ It made me realise that perhaps Flos has become the best distraction ever. The perfect excuse to avoid facing the deep insecurity I feel when trying to do the thing I once thought I would do forever. 

Instead of going home at the end of the day and picking up my paintbrush or pencil like I used to, I pick up my laptop, working on graphics, videos, spreadsheets and emails. 

Don’t get me wrong, I don’t want to have to choose. I love everything we’re building, and I love all of the things that come with it. I’ve been able to grow so many skills through it, some of which helped me land my current job in communications. 

But there could be more balance, if I let there be. When we have a quiet period, instead of magically coming up with a brand new idea to occupy the next five months, I could sit and practice the thing that used to bring me so much joy. I could even try to sell some work if I wanted. I watch artist-friends of mine who make it look so easy. Work at your craft, hone your skills, set up a website or social media, and sell your work to the people who want to buy it. 

One of the last paintings I made, in 2023...

I’ve never let myself get to that point, because deep down I’m too scared of what it means if no one is interested. If no one wants to buy what I’ve made, or if no one thinks it’s good. Or even worse, if I don’t think it’s good. Making a bad painting was what started the three years hiatus I am currently on.

So I guess that’s the thing I’m tired of waiting for. I miss my practice. I miss expressing myself in a way that is just for and from me. I miss spending time by myself, and just creating something. 

I wish I could sign off saying that I was going to commit to painting every week again to get back on my feet, but I don’t think that’s realistic, and I highly doubt putting more pressure on myself will have the desired effect. But I hope that slowly I’ll find my way back, and I’ll be sure to keep you posted when I do.