#CareerDiaries: Telling my boss I have ADHD
In today's edition of #CareerDiaries, we hear from a midlevel nonprofit professional who is integrating what a new ADHD diagnosis means for her identity and workflow as a professional. Here, she takes us through the process of preparing to tell her employer about the diagnosis and asking for accommodations.
The Day Before
Leading up to the day I will tell my employer I have ADHD (Attention-deficit/hyperactivity disorder), my nerves and obsession over this decision hit overdrive. I try every combination of employer and ADHD in google search, looking for that ultimate advice on whether I should tell them. I exhaust my efforts so much while sorting through pages of results that I find myself looking for that one result that doesn’t have the "you visited this page" stamp on it. I’m hoping that the unread result will be the defining thing I need to hear.
Very little advice says yes, absolutely tell your employer you have ADHD. Every article has words of protection. Exposing this news could go all wrong. Your employer will look at your competency differently. I shake off the numerous articles that suggest I ask for accommodations instead of revealing the diagnosis—I've done this before, and my asks were met with "If we do that for you, we have to do it for everyone."
Growing up, I was taught the cliche "hard work would lead to success," but nowhere on that mantra was there a footnote that I would be diagnosed with ADHD at 29, and that work ethic would crash me into my diagnosis. Office memories were clouded with trips to the bathroom to cry it out, breathe, and get back in there and try again. I was completely burnt out trying to navigate my brain and fit into the organization's work style. I used to think that every roadblock I hit was my fault, that I could do better. I didn't realize that every minor distraction was tenfold for me. I didn't know that I didn't need to work hard; I needed to work differently.
The Day Of
In this new era of work inclusion, I want to be heard and included for thinking and working differently. I thought if there was a good reason for my accommodations, respect for them would follow. So I go through with it and tell my employer. I lay everything out: how I think, what I need, why I need it, and how it would help me be a better and happier employee. I am met with heartfelt sympathy, an offer to help research accommodations, and a “We’re in this together” attitude.
I feel very grateful, yet sad and defeated. It‘s as if I am mourning the idea I grew up with of the hardworking, career-driven person I aspired to be.
Months Later
Some things have changed, and some things have stayed the same. I am unlearning an old idea that asking for modifications means I’m complaining. I advocate for myself.
And yet the structure and lack of, stays the same. Advocating for myself constantly on top of an ADHD brain is exhausting. I wish I could hand over a manual to my employer, "This is how my Brain works—your patience and partnership are much appreciated," but I don't think that's how this works. I don't even know if that is entirely inappropriate.
I need to be an active player in making these changes at work, but how much do I try before I give up and say maybe it is just not the right work fit for me? Is the employer supposed to meet me where I am, should I try harder, or is it on me to find an organization I fit into? Will I ever find an organization that I fit into?
I don't have these answers yet, but I am not giving up. Now more than ever, I am willing to stand up for the girl who would cry in the bathroom, tugging at her red, irritated ears from the noise-canceling headphones she would wear every day, trying to drown out the distractions and be the experienced, driven, valuable, and valued professional that she knows herself to be.
