Getting My Life Together (For the First Time Ever)

Two years ago this week I was diagnosed with ADHD. The diagnosis itself felt obvious, an “of course” moment. What I did not realise at the time was how much it would change my life for the better. Getting the diagnosis gave me language for what I had been living with my whole life, but the real shift came in what happened afterwards. It gave me the first chance to start building the life I wanted, instead of just surviving the one I had.

A year later I was also diagnosed with autism. That moment felt very different. It was more of a “hmm, I am not sure what to do with this” reaction. ADHD explained the chaos and the urgency I had lived with. Autism touched on the deeply buried parts of me, the sensitivities and the way I move through the world, but I did not immediately know how to integrate it. It has taken longer to understand, but both diagnoses now sit together as part of me and my story.

Looking back now, I can see how far I have come. Two years ago I was surviving on alcohol, nicotine, caffeine, and 120 hour work weeks. I was burning out and medicating myself just to get through the days. I lived in chaos and told myself it was normal. That I just needed to push for a bit longer, and do a little bit more.

One of the very first things that helped was starting a neurodiversity network at work. I began to be open about what I was going through, and other people started to open up back. Helping others made me realise I was not alone. Seeing the pain that others were carrying validated my own experiences. It stopped me from dismissing my struggles as weakness. Helping others felt good. It gave me energy. It made me feel part of something bigger than myself.

Alongside everything else, I kept building my career in technology. I was promoted to Managing Director at BlackRock while still relatively young, later appointed a Technical Fellow, and in 2023 received a Heart of BlackRock award for my work on neurodiversity. At the time, none of it felt like enough. I just kept pushing harder, convinced I had to prove myself. Looking back now, I can see how far I have come, from parents who both left school early, to being the first in my family to go to university, and then building a career I never gave myself credit for.

It was not all plain sailing. After cutting out alcohol I found myself getting less and less sleep, and more and more sad. Suicidal thoughts began to creep in. I took myself to a psychiatrist who offered me a range of medication. I did not know what I wanted, but I knew I did not want to dull the feelings that were telling me something important. We decided to focus on sleep first. He prescribed melatonin. That simple change got me back on track and allowed me to get up earlier and start walking every day, which anchors me now. It was a game changer for me.

One of the most important things that has helped in all of this has been coaching. It was not just that coaching gave me new tools. It helped me break cycles that had owned my time and attention. I stopped gaming compulsively. I broke the endless scroll on my phone. I stopped drinking every night. Coaching freed up hours I did not even know I had, and gave me the space to start building something better.

Coaching also taught me how to talk to myself differently. When I caught myself thinking, “I am rubbish at this,” I began to ask, “Is that actually true?” Instead of listening to the inner critic on repeat, I learned to notice evidence of progress. Coaching gave me the courage to try daily reflection. It started with getting ChatGPT to help me dig out what had gone well in my day. From reflecting daily I slowly built a writing habit, and then a rhythm of weekly articles. Writing stopped being about shame and failure. It became a way to see myself more clearly. I had never been good at writing, but I realised that was because I had never been interested in what I was writing about. This is different.

This self coaching path grew into a coaching path. I first signed up to train as an ADHD coach with the ADHD Foundation. Nine months in, the charity went into liquidation. I refused to see that door as closed. I was calm and collected and not anxious or self-critical. My resilience surprised even me. I enrolled in another ADHD coaching course, which I am now close to finishing, and as soon as this completes I will begin an advanced AuDHD coaching programme. Every coaching tool I learn I try on myself. Every client story I hear reflects something back to me. Coaching has become a way to help myself, as well as a way of helping others.

For most of my life I felt like an NPC in the video game of my own life. A not-quite complete character, bumping off walls, following other people’s scripts. Diagnosis was the moment the game shifted. Coaching was the unlock. Each small change has been a level up. The more I learn to coach myself, the more I step into the role of main character. Not in anyone else’s life, but in my own.

Two years on, I am not finished. I am still unpicking old beliefs, still learning to be kind to myself, still building the life I want one step at a time. But for the first time I am doing it with a clear direction. Coaching has helped me turn survival into growth. Now it is time to share that with others. Over the next few months I will begin to take on clients of my own and help others find their motivation and paths.

This article marks the start of a new series. I will be exploring the foundations of life with ADHD and autism: sleep, work, food, movement, relationships, and belonging. I will share what I have learned about myself, the changes I have made, what has stuck and what has not, and what I am still figuring out.

If you looked back two years, what would surprise you most about how far you have come? And what would you like to look back on two years from now?