When the Titanic sideswiped an iceberg in April 1912, six of its watertight compartments – the reason people called the ship “unsinkable” – were damaged. The tops of the compartments were open. So, despite being sealed off to contain flooding, the weight of the water in those six compartments pitched the ship forward. Water then continued to flow from one flooded compartment to another from the top, ultimately contributing to the infamous sinking.
Imagine that the Titanic is my brain, and moving from DC to Jordan at the start of 2020 was my iceberg.
Surrounded by people but feeling alone
ADHD makes you feel like you’re the only one in the world who struggles with “normal” things. Growing up, I’d scream into my pillow at night because I had no idea what was going on with my brain. I felt like an imposter in groups, pretending to be cool and collected when I was actually in 5,000 places at once.
I finally started purging in high school to regain a sense of control and relieve the stress of having to hide. But eating disorders are also very isolating. They tell you that you’re disgusting (because what kind of person does that?) and therefore that you have to keep things secret so people won’t reject you.
So, hiding ADHD and bulimia made me an expert at compartmentalizing my emotions and lying. People came to know me as someone who had her s**t together – which in that period of my life was the highest compliment someone could give me.
I was keeping everything together pretty well. Or so I thought.
My Iceberg Moment
Everything is comfortable when you live someplace for a long time. In DC, I didn’t really worry about therapy. Sure, I was having regular panic attacks, but I had my routines. I had my “usuals.” My family was close by, and I had a good support system.
Jordan was my first expat move, so I experienced a lot of change at one time. My husband and I got married four days before we left. My family and our close friends were now far away. I didn’t have my usual routines to hide behind. Plus, dealing with COVID and lockdowns while settling into a new country threw a lot of things out of whack.
Like the Titanic‘s flooded compartments, my coping mechanisms failed one by one. By Spring 2021, I could no longer hide that my brain was sinking.
Sharing my story
I started therapy in June 2021, and launched The Britt Blog that same month. In August 2021, I was formally diagnosed with ADHD. And overnight, I went from 0 to 100 with my hair on fire when it came to talking about my experiences.
I’m sure that surprised a lot of people, but I didn’t know any other way to do it. I started screaming HEY THIS IS HAPPENING across social media as a way to release years of pent up pain, and waited for the backlash.
However, very few people actually questioned my experiences (I won’t waste blog space on those that did). In fact, many shared their own struggles and told me I wasn’t alone. Where I fully expected rejection – a big fear for ADHD-ers – I instead found encouragement, often from complete strangers.
What now?
Earlier this year, I joined Jordan’s first-ever eating disorder group and started taking ADHD meds. I now have more tools in my mental toolbox thanks to therapy. I’m growing my support network in my expat life. I also plan to take December off in order to rest and recharge after a rough few years.
Reflecting on life since our move to Jordan, I know I wouldn’t be where I am with my mental health had I stayed in DC. I’m grateful for the process, and I’m still learning. But at 39, I’m finally able to embrace the fact that I’m not alone on this journey. And I want to keep understanding my own story better, so that I can be a resource to others who are feeling like I did.
So, thank you for being here and being a friend. Always remember that you are not alone.
