A NOTE on The Cruelty of the Titration waitlist

“My nervous system has been in survival mode since adolescence, permanently on high alert and always scanning for threats. ”

Undiagnosed and Unseen

I wasn't diagnosed with ADHD until I was 41. By that point, the damage was irreversible.

As a child, I was confident, curious, and energetic. But by my teenage years, that confidence had vanished, replaced with painful insecurity and an overwhelming belief that something was deeply wrong with me.

ADHD isn't simply about being easily distracted or forgetful. For me, it has meant a lifetime of hidden battles and self-destruction. I spent ten years suffering from ME/CFS, years lost entirely due to exhaustion from masking, relentless self-criticism, perfectionism born out of fear of failure, and desperate people-pleasing for acceptance.

My nervous system has been in survival mode since adolescence, permanently on high alert, always scanning for threats. I've spent decades conforming to the expectations and personalities of those around me, losing sight of my authentic self.

“I obsessively focus on achievements, believing I must constantly prove my worth to feel safe and acceptable.”

The Impossible Quest for Joy

Joy is rare. Instead, I obsessively focus on achievements, believing I must constantly prove my worth to feel safe and acceptable. ADHD makes forming and maintaining healthy habits impossible. I binge eat for dopamine hits, and constantly start projects I can't finish, each abandoned idea feeling like another personal failure.

I’ve done extensive work to heal myself, recovering from CFS, addressing my perfectionism and people-pleasing, confronting my limiting beliefs and childhood coping strategies. Barely a week goes by without me battling to find peace through new books or techniques. I know myself inside out. Yet, ADHD stops me from translating these insights into lasting habits. I start journaling, then stop flossing. I begin intermittent fasting, then stop journaling. Maintaining even one habit consistently feels unattainable.

Since discovering that medication could help me achieve more stability - controlling my binge eating and establishing consistent habits - I have actually gained two dress sizes. My ability to fight the constant battle against binge eating has weakened because years of repeated cycles of trying and failing have become too exhausting, and I know that soon, maybe, there will be some help. Knowing a solution exists yet being denied access has left me feeling more out of control than ever.

“...some will ask: Why do I need medication so badly? Why put faith in a pill? Have I even tried to help myself?”

Why Medication Matters

I say all this knowing some will ask: Why do I need medication so badly? Why put faith in a pill? Have I even tried to help myself?

Every day, I work on myself. Every day, I try to calm my nervous system, to find peace, to manage anxiety, and expend energy just to stay afloat. Every single day. I just want to live my life.

The Overlooked Reality for Women

For women, ADHD often manifests differently than the stereotypical hyperactivity seen in men. The 'hyper' aspect frequently occurs internally, racing thoughts, chronic anxiety, persistent self-doubt, and constant mental restlessness. Symptoms include emotional sensitivity, organisational difficulties, overwhelm, perfectionism, and profound inadequacy.

This internalisation has left countless women undiagnosed or misdiagnosed, often labelled anxious, depressed, or overly emotional. Decades of medical research focusing predominantly on male presentations of ADHD have caused unnecessary suffering and self-blame for many women.

“The thought of living shame-free, effortlessly fitting into neurotypical society, felt impossible yet desperately desired.”

The Cruel Waiting Game

People who've started ADHD medication describe it as turning on life's "easy switch."

Australian comedian Celeste Barber described the feeling of taking the medication as being herself "without the shame." Hearing this, I broke down. The thought of living shame-free, effortlessly fitting into neurotypical society, felt impossible yet desperately desired.

So, what does it take to access the ADHD medication that could transform thousands upon thousands of lives?

In the UK, it’s a cruel waiting game. After an average two-year wait for an NHS diagnosis (the only diagnosis society truly believes), there's another minimum seven-month wait for medication, a fact that many, including myself, discover too late.

There’s no contact, no updates, just endless uncertainty. You can send a message via the system - but the wait time on a response is months, and even then they have no information for you.

Some people on forums report a 5-month wait, a 7-month wait, a 12-month wait. Every day I hope and pray it’s my turn.

Recently, after being told I was roughly 28 days from starting medication, the date passed silently. Then came an email: ‘We issued this prematurely (1-2 months in advance).’ No apology. No clarity. Just continued limbo, hoping and daydreaming about eventual relief.

It’s been 9 months.

Enough is Enough

This process feels intentionally cruel, a twisted social experiment testing endurance to the breaking point. There are no excuses. Occasionally, well-being surveys are sent, but many fear answering truthfully, terrified of being thrown out of the queue or being told they cannot have the medication at all.

This approach isn’t sustainable or humane. It shouldn’t take someone reaching their breaking point, or worse, for this flawed system, for people with ADHD, for women with ADHD, to finally be taken seriously.