For as long as I can remember, I’ve been called weird. Those who love or care about me have been kinder—they call me wonderfully weird!
I always thought It was just me—a bit different, a little unique—but isn’t everyone?
Wonderfully Weird
As a child, I was hyperactive and obsessive. I struggled with schoolwork, revision, and exams. In my teens, I developed OCD, anxiety, and bulimia. Life often felt difficult.
As I got older, my differences became clearer—to me and to those around me. But it wasn’t until my forties that I was finally diagnosed with ADHD. My family and friends weren’t surprised, but for me, it was life changing. Suddenly, everything made sense: my restless mind, my difficulty focusing, my endless distractions. My tendency to overthink, overshare, and care too much. My constant need to prove myself—to show that I am enough.
I fidget, I babble, I interrupt—not to be rude, but because my brain moves faster than my words. I’m too open and honest, sometimes brutally so with myself, and I feel everything too deeply. Sounds and smells can overwhelm me. I can’t stand odd numbers but, strangely enough, I can only wear odd socks!
Exercise became both my escape and my obsession—running and walking calm my mind, though sometimes I push myself too far. I’m sensitive, compassionate, and deeply empathetic. But my heart breaks at the injustices of the world, especially cruelty and abuse, and I can’t turn away. However, that pain also fuels my determination—to stand up, speak out, and help those who can’t.
Learning about ADHD has been transformative. Simple things like to-do lists and fidget gadgets have made a world of difference—not only for me, but for those around me. I am also extremely lucky in both my professional and personal life, to be supported, and understood-at last!
Finding Calm in Animals and Nature
But above all, animals have been my greatest therapy. From an early age, I felt more at home with them than with people—on the farm, in the wild, or by my side. With animals, I can simply be. I’m not loud or erratic. We understand each other in a quiet, wordless way. In their company, I find peace instead of chaos.
Dr Nicholas Dodman’s wonderful book “Pets on the Couch” explores how humans and animals share the same neurochemistry—our minds and emotions mirror each other. In Chapter 13, “The Beagle with ADHD,” he opens with a quote that always makes me smile:
“I’ve been told I have ADHD, but I don’t think I—hey, look, a squirrel!”
That was me—and my old collie, Molly. She was easily distracted and deeply sensitive to sounds. I like to think she found calmness in my company, as I did in hers.
Recently, I noticed something: weird and wired share the same letters. So maybe I’m not weird and different at all—just wired differently.
Or maybe I’m simply Joe, doing my best in a challenging world.
P.S. A Message to Others Living with ADHD
I’m sharing this because I want to reach out to anyone who struggles—to let you know you’re not alone. ADHD isn’t a fad or a trend; it’s a daily challenge that affects both those who have it and those who love them.
But awareness is growing, and with it comes understanding, compassion, and help. There are resources, books, and tools that can make life a little easier.
Please, don’t judge those who bravely open up about their ADHD. Instead, try to understand them. Because behind every fidget, every restless thought—is someone working incredibly hard just to make sense of themselves.