Are you sure you haven’t got ADHD, babe?” The question comes from a dear and well-meaning friend after I mention in passing how I swing between being hyper-focused and struggling to concentrate at work. I politely shrug and chirp, “don’t think so!”, while secretly wondering when and why it became perfectly acceptable to throw out armchair diagnoses to our mates – or, indeed, perfect strangers – based on the scantest of “symptoms”.
Aside from being just plain wrong – if I have Attention Deficit and Hyperactivity Disorder (ADHD) then I’d argue so does anyone who’s ever worked an office job or owned a smartphone – it’s kind of, well, rude, isn’t it? Not to mention utterly bizarre that the average layperson feels so comfortable flinging out medical labels. In the era of social media, it seems like everyone considers themselves an “expert” on neurodivergence – even when that “expertise” boils down to having listened to a podcast or watched a YouTube short about it one time.
