How a Company awards conference and RSD lead me to my ADHD diagnosis.

I wanted to share my ADHD “light-bulb moment.”

My ADHD diagnosis journey started a few years ago. It only took a company conference and a week of uncontrollable sobbing for me to realise something was different about me.

But I also want to know: was there a defining moment that led to your diagnosis?

Chapter 01The starting line

I'd fallen in love with a new job and I worked hard. So hard, in fact, that for the first time in my life, someone called me a “work-a-holic”, and I suppose to most people, that should raise a cause for concern, shouldn't it? But I felt proud. Because before this, I was always in and out of entry-level jobs I couldn't wrap my head around, I was constantly in a state of overwhelm, and I was forever questioning why I couldn't do something that others seemed to do so effortlessly.

For more context, throughout my personal and professional life, I'd been told over and over again, from a young age, how I just wasn't good enough, not reaching my potential, and just needed to “try harder.” When in reality, all I felt I ever did was try the hardest I could.

So when I finally found a job I was good at, I poured everything into it. I was good at something? Wait, I actually enjoy a job? So, I tried. I tried to impress people, I wanted to stand out, I wanted to be a good member of the team, I wanted the good feedback and to be a valued part of the business.

I improved processes, won employee of the month, won multiple monthly awards and was the go-to person if anyone was ever stuck or needed help. I tried so hard that at points, I could genuinely feel my blood pressure rising. (Because it was so not recommended - and something I have learned from.)

Chapter 02False hope

Based off all of that hard work and the brilliant feedback I was getting, when the company conference rolled around, which included an award ceremony, I really hoped to win something and I was so excited! I mean, how could I not after all the work I'd put in, right?

There were three awards I could have won. And when my name wasn't called for the first, I was slightly gutted but there were still 2 left! So, there was still a chance.

When the second winner wasn't announced, we were told there and then that the winner would be chosen by audience vote. A contest of who clapped the loudest between me and one other teammate. This stark contrast in minds is important here:

• To the boss, it was probably just a fun way to decide a winner.
• To me, it felt like 300 people telling me my work still “wasn't good enough.” After I had poured the entirety of my soul into the work that was being judged.

I didn't win the third award either.

I congratulated the winners, stood up, and left. I walked out of the doors, and I cried.

Chapter 03The aftermath

The rejection, my god, was like nothing I'd ever felt before. And believe me, I'd experienced rejection, but this was rough. I later found out the “reason” they didn't award me and why I was pulled from winning last minute, which seemed ridiculously unfair and completely unjustified. And so, I spiralled:

I cried for the rest of the week. I wasn't just upset. This was different. I felt broken. But in true ADHD fashion - and at the time, I didn't know I was doing this - I wore my mask, and no one would have known any different. On the outside, I was my positive, upbeat, hardworking, normal self, but on the inside and in private… quite the opposite.

Chapter 04My light-bulb moment

After I'd given my head a wobble I thought: "Hang on, crying this much over a work award seems a bit extreme?" I mean, for anyone that knows me, you'll know how competitive I can be, but this was just next level rejection.

It was the sheer intensity of that emotional response that made me realise something wasn't quite right. It was the light-bulb moment I needed. So, off I went, back to the doctor, and for the first time in 30+ years, ADHD was mentioned. Not depression or anxiety or some other umbrellaed, vague mental health condition. I was experiencing a mixture of severe burnout and Rejection Sensitive Dysphoria (RSD). It just so happened that when asked, I had every other symptom of Combined ADHD as well. No one had ever asked me before.

To put RSD into context: a person with ADHD will experience up to 20,000 more micro criticisms, rejections and “you're not good enoughs” before even reaching adulthood, than a neurotypical person.

Chapter 05Where I am now

I spent 2 years on an assessment waiting list, but I already knew. And believe me, I did my research, and the real breakthrough came when I stopped trying to fix myself and started adjusting the environment around me. For years, I felt like a failure because I couldn't thrive in a traditional office setup, but I eventually realised that I wasn't the problem. The workspaces I was in were simply not built to accommodate my brain. When people stopped trying to change me and started changing the workflow, everything improved.

I found that off-hand negative comments or vague remarks are incredibly unhelpful for a neurodivergent mind. They create a fog of uncertainty, and we fill the gaps with anxiety, that eventually leads to paralysis. Instead, we need black and white constructive criticism. When feedback is delivered with clear, actionable suggestions for improvement, we don't just improve. We excel. By tailoring the environment to be more precise and structured, I was finally able to turn that old overwhelm into the positive results and reinforcement I receive today.

A few years on, I know my worth. I've grown a lot personally and professionally and learnt a lot about myself and how best I function. My value isn't defined by an award. My work speaks for itself and I now look back at that time in a different light. It ultimately led to my diagnosis and getting the support I needed. I didn't need to be “fixed.” All I needed was a rather traumatic experience of intense rejection and a doctor that had just completed an ADHD refresher course to recognise it in me! I am now in another role I love, that I'm great at, where I feel valued, supported and understood. No awards needed (although they are always appreciated…).

And listen, you can't win 'em all, eh? I definitely bloody didn't, but it all turned out for the best in the end!