The Quiet Storm
A Friend’s Story of Depression and ADHD
I hid my depression from everyone. When friends asked, I lied and said I was fine.
I asked myself, why don’t I have the manual on how to be an adult? Why is all of this so overwhelming to me?
Hannah1 is a close friend who has struggled with depression for decades and recently realized that she has ADHD. She agreed to share her story to help families understand the many faces of mental health struggles.
The Independent Achiever
Serena: Hey Hannah! Tell us about yourself.
Hannah: I’m a single woman in my mid-forties, living in the city. I have a degree in communications. After working for a PR firm for years, I’ve run my own successful PR business for over a decade. When I’m not working, I’m walking my dog, playing pickleball and tennis, or traveling with friends.
Serena: Tell me about your family.
Hannah: It’s a running family joke that I was doing things on my own from the moment I crawled. That didn’t evolve in the best way. I don’t say this critically of my parents, but you know, three kids, two parents, and I’m constantly taking care of things on my own, inevitably, they’re gonna let me have it covered.
I believed my role was to figure things out, do them on my own, and succeed. And I got accolades for that. My parents had their hands full with my siblings. My sister has a big personality. My brother probably had an undiagnosed learning disorder. So that required my parents’ attention.
My mom’s problematic drinking showed up when I was a teenager. According to my dad, I wasn’t aware of it until my early twenties. Like a good addicted family, we barely talked about her alcoholism.
No one suspected I had ADHD. A therapist said she’s surprised I did so well academically, that I must have created a lot of systems for myself. I think that was part of my coping mechanism.
Flying Under the Radar
Serena: Thanks for sharing all that - so much there! As an adult, you’ve learned that you have ADHD. Looking back, where can you see signs of ADHD in your childhood?
Hannah: ADHD shows up in a lot of different ways. In middle school, I had a Spanish teacher who let me get up and pace around the classroom when class was going on. She knew I needed something more.
As a high school freshman, I waited until the last minute to study for a test and pulled my first all-nighter. I got an A plus on that test. That’s when I learned I could procrastinate and still achieve. Also, I have a history of pushing myself beyond my limits and getting positive reinforcement.
I don’t think my dad ever imagined I would have ADHD. But I remember him saying things to me like, “Hannah, pay attention to what you’re doing.” Because I’d be pouring the milk and talking to everybody in the room. He clocked I was not always on the task at hand.
It’s hard even to talk about this, particularly the ADHD.
Serena: It sounds like you’re still coming to terms with how ADHD has affected you.
Hannah: My diagnosis is only a few years old. I’ve never shared this with my parents because it would devastate them to think they missed this.
Serena: Yet it’s so easy to miss! We’ve talked about how girls with ADHD can often fly under the radar. My daughter didn’t get a diagnosis until halfway through high school.
Hannah: Yeah, I think girls go undiagnosed because they don’t present in the physically hyper ways that boys do.
Facing Depression
Serena: Okay, so you had undiagnosed ADHD, and soon your depression emerged. Tell us about your early twenties.
Hannah: For the longest time, I didn’t know that I was dealing with depression. Looking back, I can pinpoint some moments in college when I shut the bedroom door, and I didn’t want to see anyone. But that was relatively fleeting.
From the outside, you would have seen me as someone who got top grades and was the center of the party. Living in a house with seven other girls meant I was rarely alone. You would never know I was depressed.
After college, I joined a PR agency and embraced workaholism, which is rewarded there. Everything became digitized in the 2000s, so we were constantly figuring things out. My brain loved the chaos; it was like a dopamine puzzle. Throughout my early twenties, I lived and worked with friends. Now I know I used all of those things to mask my depression.
Serena: Why did you choose to get help?
Hannah: When I was in my late 20s, I visited my parents, and there was an incident with Mom’s drinking that made me pause. When I got home, I looked for a therapy group with a focus on addiction, which was my first step on the road to recovery.
I started therapy with the goal of getting my mom sober. Of course, because she was good at her job, my therapist quickly redirected me, which then led to Al-Anon. I was completely unaware of what was going on with me. I was a perfectionist with a ton of drive and control issues.
Then I started living alone. My friends were getting married, having kids, and the group dynamic of “every weekend, we’re together all weekend” dissipated. As my life quieted down and I pressed into therapy and Al-Anon, I became more self-aware.
Therapists and doctors asked if I was depressed. I was like, “I don’t know, this is the way I’ve always felt.”
Eventually, a psychiatrist suggested medication. I was so against it, so worried about the long-term effects and what medication would say about me.
Serena: How did you move through those fears?
Hannah: It was hard. A friend said, “Why don’t we not remove one of this doctor’s main tools? Let’s not have contempt without investigation.”
Another friend said, “Hannah, what if you say no to this medication and in a decade, you realize it could have helped you? Then you’ve spent this whole decade struggling when you didn’t need to.”
That was a real lightbulb moment for me.
Now I take mood stabilizers. They don’t fix everything, but they help. Before meds, depression felt like I was carrying all this really heavy stuff in my backpack. Medication puts it in a wagon that I’m dragging behind me. So it moves a lot more easily, and there’s some space between me and it, which allows me to do the work.
Serena: Since you said that you’re a master at hiding depression, can you tell me more about what it looks like for you? I didn’t recognize my teenage daughter’s depression for months. I couldn’t see it in myself as a teenager either.
Hannah: Sure. It’s a cycle, and I now understand anxiety is part of it. Ten years ago, I would have told you I was never anxious.
For me, things pile up. Whether it’s at home or at work, I feel like, “I can’t keep up. I can’t do all of this.”
Then I start avoiding it all, which becomes deeper and darker and isolating. It gets to where I feel like I physically cannot get off this couch. Sometimes I don’t leave the house for a week.
I wouldn’t tell anyone. I had a ton of shame, thinking, “What’s wrong with me? Why don’t I have the manual on how to be an adult? Why is all of this so overwhelming to me? Pull it together, Hannah!”
Serena: Especially because you are such a driven, ambitious person, that would be extra jarring. You’ve always had this story of being successful, having lots of friends, that independent little girl…
Hannah: Exactly. Once I understood depression, I became more willing to talk about it.
Linking Depression and ADHD
Serena: Tell me about your journey with ADHD. You got your diagnosis fairly recently. How are ADHD and depression related?
Hannah: Yeah, I sought a diagnosis about three or four years ago. I believe my depression is a symptom of my ADHD. The missing piece was understanding ADHD and having tools to help me function better. That has really lifted my depression.
Serena: So what tools do you find helpful?
Hannah: I’ve had a lot of success working with an ADHD coach. I did a course for adult professionals with ADHD and now I have a support group. Understanding why I am the way I am and do the things I do has been a game changer.
I’ve realized routines are crucial. I’ve spent my whole life rejecting routine. Now, having regular activities, especially around exercise and community, is a sweet spot for me.
Having visual reminders helps. There’s a pile of stuff on my dining room table that needs to be shipped. It’s not going to get done unless it’s in my line of sight.
Reminders on my phone are huge. If I’m doing one thing and something else pops into my brain, I’ll ask Siri to remind me to do tasks at a certain time. For example, I was walking the dog last night and realized I needed to make a boarding appointment. So, I set a reminder to call during business hours. That lightens the mental load.
Acceptance has been big, which has led to a willingness to do things differently. The house I grew up in was pristine. Everything had its place. Everything was always clean. I spent a lot of years trying to do that. But I’m just not wired that way. I finally decided to lower my standards. If somebody comes over and it’s a mess, it’s not like we’re not going to be friends anymore.
Conclusion: From Isolation to Understanding
Serena: What would you say to your younger self?
Hannah: I would encourage her to ask for help. Somehow I got the message that I couldn’t.
Serena: So you’d tell that little girl who always felt like she had to do things on her own, to let others know she needed help, despite the shame she felt.
Hannah: If ADHD and depression have taught me anything, it’s that I simply can’t do everything on my own.
I’m grateful for Hannah’s story, which reminds me that it’s never too late to ask for help. Her courage inspires me to continue pressing into advocacy for my needs and the needs of my teens. Her authenticity and self-acceptance help me lower my own impossible standards and find peace.
What inspires you about Hannah’s story? I’d love to hear how you’ve found hope for yourself or a loved one in the twisting road of mental health recovery.
Grateful for your companionship on the journey,
P.S. Before you go, please tap the little ♡. It offers “social proof” and lets others know there’s something useful here. Thanks!
Name and identifying details changed for privacy.
Hannah's voice comes through so strongly in this post. I really appreciate how she doesn't attempt to "happy ending" her story (in that it's still hard to talk about). I feel like there is a lot of external pressure to add "and now everything is wonderful" to our mental health stories, instead of saying "this is still hard" or "this still makes me sad/mad/etc."
I especially relate to this: "The house I grew up in was pristine. Everything had its place. Everything was always clean. I spent a lot of years trying to do that. But I’m just not wired that way. I finally decided to lower my standards. If somebody comes over and it’s a mess, it’s not like we’re not going to be friends anymore."
Love this. Thanks for sharing Hannah’s story- real and inspiring!