I used to think I was just messy. A bit forgetful. Prone to starting projects and never quite finishing them, leaving half-painted walls and notebooks filled with plans I’d outgrow before the ink dried. I thought everyone felt the constant buzz in their head, the low hum of ideas and to-do lists colliding together, until I suddenly found myself stuck on the sofa in a period of executive dysfunction where I couldn't get myself into the kitchen to cook dinner.
I was constantly exhausted, crashing out at 3pm in to a dissociative daze. Experiencing days of broken hearted despair if I made a mistake or was criticised by others. Not because I was precious - It was because I felt so worthless and stupid and I couldn't get out of my own head.
I had spent my life making impulsive decisions or desperately trying to not hit rock bottom or burnout. Of course I crashed and burned many times over.
Then I found out I have ADHD.
Now, in my 40s, carrying the diagnosis of ADHD feels like both a relief and a new frustration. A relief, because it explains so much about why my brain works the way it does. Why I need to go through a process do simple things. Why I can hyperfocus on writing or creating some wonderful much needed resource at 11pm, but can’t make a phone call I've been avoiding for weeks. Why I feel big emotions—joy, rejection, excitement, fear, or nothing at all.
It’s also a frustration, because the world wasn’t built for brains like ours, especially as adults. There’s this quiet expectation that by your 40s, you should have it all figured out—routines nailed down, life ticking along nicely. But I often feel like I’m trying to run a marathon in shoes that don’t fit, tripping over my own feet while everyone else looks like they’re gliding.
There is a stigma, the "oh everyone's got ADHD these days!" comments or the minute changes in body language that tells me someone has no patience for me and my excuses.
And yet… there’s sparkle in this chaos.
My ADHD means I see connections others might miss. It means I can bring energy and creativity into spaces that need it. It means I can find deep joy in small things, like the way sunlight hits a wall, or the sudden thrill of a new idea that feels like it could change everything. It means life is never boring, even if it can be overwhelming.
Living with ADHD in your 40s is about learning to work with your brain, not against it. It’s about unlearning shame and perfectionism and embracing systems that actually work for you—even if they look different from what others expect. It’s about accepting that some days will be chaos, but there is beauty in the mess. It's not an excuse, but it is an explanation as to why I might need a little more time, or I need processes to speed up!
This space, Chaos and Sparkle, will be a place where I share what it’s like to live, work, and grow with ADHD as a 40-something. The wins, the frustrations, the hacks that help. Of course I will share with total honesty and transparency about the days when nothing helps at all, because there is no point in denying it happens!
If you’re here, know that you’re not alone if your brain feels like a browser with 47 tabs open at all times. There’s room for you and your sparkly chaos here!
Let’s figure it out together.
Fergs 🖤
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