Navigating Life with ADHD and EFD: My Journey to Self-Care and Recovery

Understanding Executive Dysfunction and Its Impact

Imagine not being able to do the simplest things, like washing your ass or brushing your teeth. Gross, right? Well, if I don't take my medication, it might take me a week or longer to do any mundane task, including hygiene routines. I know I have to do "The Thing," and I understand that it must get done to complete the "Next Thing." Yet, I still can't get myself to start said "Thing." If I do manage to tackle it, it takes a tremendous amount of motivation and effort that I often lack, especially when I haven't taken my Adderall.

I have ADHD, and like many others who share this diagnosis, I also struggle with EFD, or executive dysfunction. This means I have a harder time with tasks that require higher-order thinking. It affects my ability to plan, organize, focus, remember, manage impulsivity, initiate tasks, and handle time effectively. Because of EFD, along with other comorbid conditions like bipolar disorder, there are times when managing routines and schedules feels nearly impossible.

The Rollercoaster of Sleep and Mood

Sometimes, I find myself battling hypersomnia, sleeping too much during depressive episodes, or wrestling with insomnia, where sleep feels like a distant memory. When I'm manic, my mind races, making it hard to think clearly or get restful sleep. Even with my Adderall, I still grapple with bipolar symptoms that disrupt my routines. People with ADHD and ASD often thrive on regular schedules. But when those routines are interrupted—whether by a manic or depressive episode or a crisis like losing a job—I struggle to get back to the basics of daily life, like being employed.

The Weight of Dependence

At 29 years old, I’m staring down the barrel of 30 in March. I’m disabled, both physically and mentally, and I rely heavily on my parents for support. I live under their roof, eat their food when I don’t have SNAP/EBT, and they cover all the bills—everything from the internet I use to build this website to electricity, heat, water, and even my phone bill. For as long as I’ve been an adult, I’ve felt like I’ve failed miserably at it. Even when I had my own apartment, I often needed my mother to help bail me out with rent due to my disability issues, especially the symptoms of EFD. The pandemic only exacerbated my situation.

The Struggle to Maintain Employment

EFD complicates my ability to keep a job, especially when my autoimmune issues flare up. Even when I’m sick, finding the motivation to seek treatment feels like an uphill battle. Days can pass before I even think about seeing a doctor. Often, the only thing that pushes me to go is the fear of losing my job if I’m absent for more than three days. Most jobs offer FMLA, but to qualify, you need to work a certain number of hours first.

My insurance situation adds another layer of difficulty. Currently, I’m on Medicaid, which covers a lot of my treatment, but finding specialists who accept it is a challenge. I still need to see a neurologist and a cardiologist, but I haven’t found any who take my insurance. I’m in the process of applying for SSDI for the fourth time, and on average, it takes about 200 days for a decision to be made on a case.

The Long Wait for Stability

For the past year and three months, I’ve been unemployed and unable to find a job in my field that accommodates my needs. There’s no way I can support myself with a part-time job unless I get my master’s degree. Even with my bachelor’s degree, I’m struggling to land interviews, and when I do, I often don’t hear back. In this economy, my parents can’t afford to support me much longer, and I can’t shake the feeling of being a burden. If I were on SSDI, I’d at least have some income and benefits to help me live more independently. My EBT was cut off due to their work policy, and I’ve applied for housing, but I’m on a waitlist that could take years. As of today, I’ve been waiting about six months for a response.

The Emotional Toll of Dependence

I wish I didn’t have to depend on my parents at all. It’s a constant source of disappointment for me. I want nothing more than to get out of their hair. I’m in therapy, attending group sessions on Tuesdays and Thursdays, and taking my medications three times a day as prescribed. I’m on over 14 medications daily, and sometimes it still feels like it’s not enough. I continue to struggle with physical therapy, and the pain—both physical and mental—never really stops. There are days when I feel like giving up on my dreams and quitting everything.

Burnout and the Fight for Accommodations

I remember the time I fully burned out while working at DCFS and going to graduate school full-time. I tried so hard to get reasonable accommodations, but instead, I felt targeted by administration for having disabilities. No matter how hard I tried, it never felt like enough. I was doing three times the work due to staffing issues and high turnover. At one point, I had over a hundred cases, and every day brought new mandates and more cases. I was exhausted and calling off regularly.

There was one day I showed up to work with severe knots in my hair, and a kind coworker took the time to brush it for me. I cried that day, overwhelmed by her compassion. My superiors often told me I wouldn’t make it through my probationary period because of my deficits. The day I reached my one-year anniversary at DCFS, I stopped showing up.

The Balancing Act of Work and School

During training, I would work from 8 AM to 5 PM in the south side of Chicago, then sit in traffic while attending online classes from 6 PM to 9 PM. I fell behind so much that I had to take incompletes. I burned out so badly that I couldn’t finish those incomplete courses on time, leading to failing out of graduate school. I had to get administrative withdrawals to prevent my GPA from plummeting. This wasn’t the first time I failed out of graduate school. My first class ended in failure because I didn’t know how to get accommodations from disability services, and I ended up in the psych ward after receiving that failing grade. I missed the first week of classes but managed to pass my courses with straight A’s. During that time, I couldn’t work at the same place I interned, so I was juggling work, classes, and hundreds of hours of internship service.

The Path Forward: Resilience and Hope

Today, I’m struggling to secure a job in child welfare to earn credit for my field practice hours at school. I’m also trying to find funds to pay for tuition to return to school and repeat my last four classes. I lost the grant I had because they won’t pay for the same courses twice. What was supposed to be a one-year, advanced standing master’s program has turned into a four-year journey.

But am I going to give up? Hell no. Despite everything, I still plan on getting my PhD and becoming "Dr. Medina." I’m committed to making a difference, no matter how long it takes. I take things day by day, sometimes minute by minute—and that’s okay. Some days are worse than others, but those tough days won’t last forever.

I’ve never felt more humbled than I do now. If it weren’t for the kindness of others, I wouldn’t be here today. Each day is a battle, but it’s made a warrior out of me. I plan to fight until it’s no longer possible. I will achieve everything I’ve set out to do, despite my failures and shortcomings.