So I gots the ADHD.
From the Sunday Self-Care Chronicles | 10/18/26
Hey sweet friend,
Something interesting happened to me this week, and so I figured this was the perfect place to share it with you: on Friday I received a formal ADHD diagnosis.
I know it’s super trendy right now for women my age to come out as ADHD but after years of suspecting – and self-diagnosing, and second-guessing myself – it turns out for me, the answer was worth the effort. It’s not considered severe, but it is real, and I’m glad I know.
When I made the appointment I told a friend that I was excited to find out and she asked “Why? What are you hoping to get out of it?” And I loved that she asked because I really had to think about the answer.
For me, it wasn’t about the outcome – it was about understanding myself better.
I’ve shared recently about how I like to know things. That for me information is power, and this situation is no different.
It was the same with my confirming my BRCA1+ diagnosis in 2016.
I had been monitored as if I had a genetic mutation since my early 20’s because we knew it ran in our family, so why did it matter if I actually was?
Confirming MY actual genetic makeup meant that I had accurate information that allowed me to be more prepared and know all of my options, before my diagnosis and after.
It’s the reason I opted for a double mastectomy and partial hysterectomy, and one of the reasons that chemo was right for me, despite having a very small early stage tumor, that in another woman might have been treated with a lumpectomy and radiation.
Because naming a fact doesn't change who you are. It just gives you a better map of how to navigate the territory that is you.
So my reaction when she confirmed that I am indeed a bit ADHD, was “ok cool, where do we go from here?” And she had actual answers.
If you've lived through a breast cancer diagnosis, you probably know this feeling in a few different costumes.
The fatigue that won’t lift for which no one gives you answers or solutions.
The fog everyone calls chemo brain and then waves off saying it will get better with time or chalks up to your medication.
The ache in your armpit that no one asks about so you don’t bring it up.
The enthusiastic "you're done!" discharge papers that come with no instructions for the rest of your life except see you in a few months and “call us if you have a problem.”
So much of survivorship is carrying symptoms and side effects that don't have a name yet, and being told you're fine because your scans are clear.
Naming things is not complaining. Naming things is information. And information is where self-care actually starts.
Case in point: last night, instead of scrolling, I tore down my overstuffed collection of productivity tools I’m constantly collecting and built myself one simple system.
Fewer apps, fewer lists, fewer places to look.
A few days ago I was still trying to do the opposite – looking for another shiny tool to try and fix myself.
That's the shift: I'm not trying to become someone with a different brain. I'm designing my days for the brain I actually have.
Which is, not coincidentally, the whole philosophy of this newsletter and my work.
You don't need to overhaul your body or your life. You need to know it well enough to care for it as it is now.
There’s more to this story so I may pop in again on Wednesday with a bit more wisdom from this experience and on what’s next for me in this process, but for now…here's my question for you this week:
What's something about your body or your brain that finally has a name – or that you're still waiting to name?
Hit reply and tell me. I read every single one.
P.S. Hey Buffalo Locals! I'll be at the Breast Cancer Network of WNY Open House this Thursday, October 22 from 3:00-7:30pm. Check out the details and come say hi in person.