27 Too Much or Not Enough? 

I’ve got to be honest, I’ve been struggling lately to come to terms with who I am. And because of this identity crisis, I haven’t felt like I’ve been able to post on Behind The Smiles. It’s hard to create content or offer support when I feel like I don’t even know where I stand myself.

This isn’t a sob story. But the truth is, the start of this year has been unexpectedly intense. I’ve been dealing with challenges, emotions and grief I never imagined would be part of my 2025. And, whether because of that or a mix of other things, I have found myself feeling pretty low about being neurodivergent.

I know that might be a controversial thing to admit. Like I’m supposed to always be proud of it, or grateful for the strengths it brings. But sometimes I just need to stop worrying about how I will come across and simply allow myself to feel whatever it is I’m feeling, even if it’s messy or hard to articulate.

For so long, I’ve masked, often without even realising I was doing it. Adapting how I speak, move, and express myself became second nature, a way to fit into spaces that didn’t always feel built for me. Somewhere along the way, I lost sight of where the performance ended and where I began. When you’ve spent years presenting a version of yourself that seemingly the world finds easier to digest, it’s no wonder that unmasking feels like standing in front of a mirror and not quite recognising your own reflection.

Lately, I’ve been so deep in my own head that even the basics feel difficult. I always know I’m starting to spiral when I stop looking after myself: skipping meals, forgetting to drink water (and water my plants), struggling to get out of bed. The basics feel like mountains.

As someone who can be quite impulsive, I spent most of 2024 dabbling with ADHD medication** (prescribed by my psychiatrist) – starting and stopping without consistency. But while training for the London Marathon earlier this year, I felt a genuine push to take better care of both my mental and physical health. So, I made a commitment: to take my Vyvanse* (ADHD medication) every day, and to see what could happen if I actually gave it a chance.

At first, I did notice a difference. I felt more disciplined. More anchored. Less chaotic. But over time, that clarity dulled. It became the new normal… and then the comparisons to everyone else crept back in. Suddenly, it didn’t feel like enough again. I wasn’t studying enough, I wasn’t managing my life well enough, I wasn’t performing at the level I thought I should be. I just wasn’t enough.

Over time, the constant thinking quietened down, and what replaced it wasn’t clarity, just a kind of emotional flatness. The sense of not really feeling anything. Not really knowing who I am.

Simultaneously, people started saying things like, “you seem calmer,” “you’ve changed,” “I like this new you.” None of them knew I was taking medication. And while those comments were meant kindly, they left me feeling unsettled. What were they really saying? That the real me, the unfiltered, unmedicated me, is too loud? Too chaotic? Too much?

On the flip side, if I forget to take my medication, I feel lost again – like I can’t handle my own personality. I become hyper-aware of how “much” I am, a feeling shaped by past experiences and reinforced by comments I’ve heard more times than I can count. And now something I seem to carry with constant awareness…

So here I am.

Caught between too much and not enough.

Like I am watching a tennis match, my head swinging from one side to the other, and back again.

To Vyvanse or not?

To feel everything or feel nothing?

To be preferable to others or to be authentically me – even when I don’t fully know who that is?

And yeah, sometimes I catch myself thinking it would be easier to be neurotypical. I know that’s probably a terrible thing to say, and I’m not claiming life is easy for anyone. But being AuDHD sometimes feels like living in a constant contradiction.

And it’s weird because we’re in this time where neurodiversity is gaining traction, which is amazing for acceptance and accessibility. But it’s also hard, because there’s so much misinformation. And sometimes it feels like neurodivergence is glamorised or reduced to aesthetic trends – when in reality, it can be complex, painful and confusing.

Navigating identity, can be incredibly disorienting for anyone. The world sends mixed signals about who you should be, what’s normal, and whether you’re allowed to just be. Being neurodivergent, I feel like I’m constantly interrogating myself: questioning expectations, trying to build something that feels real.

And in the midst of all that, I’ve been finding my way through ADHD medication. Like with most medication, it’s a process of trial and error. Vyvanse, can offer support (some clarity and some calm), but it is not a fix. It doesn’t erase the emotional complexity of what it means to be neurodivergent in a world that often doesn’t accommodate that. And it certainly doesn’t make those intrusive thoughts of comparison or identity confusion disappear. So often, it feels deeply isolating: navigating a journey that’s led by me, guided by how I feel, when so often I don’t even know myself.

And whilst it’s an ongoing process, I’ve found therapy to be a massive help in starting to untangle these thoughts and feelings. Some days, it helps me spot patterns and challenge the inner critic. Other days, I just sit there and spill out whatever’s weighing on me without finding answers. But even without neat resolutions, having that space matters. It’s where I can explore the impact of years of masking and start cautiously figuring out what “authentic me” might even mean.

But in a rash state of confusion, I brought my thoughts to trusty ChatGPT (classic move, I know), and it offered something that stuck with me:

“Hearing people say ‘you’ve changed’ or ‘I like this new you’ is hard — especially when you’re still deciding whether you like that version of yourself. But what would it look like to stop chasing the version of you that fits everyone else’s expectations — and start creating the one that actually feels like home? Messy, impulsive, reflective, intense — whatever it may be.”

And that’s the truth. Being neurodivergent isn’t about fitting a mould, whether that’s the “gifted and quirky” narrative or the “struggling and broken” stereotype. It’s about understanding your own brain. Your energy. Your needs. And building a life that works for you.

That might involve medication. Or it might not. It might involve rest. Re-evaluation. Therapy. Or all of the above.

So yeah, I haven’t known what to post over the past six months. I haven’t known what to say. Because how do you write about neurodivergence when you’re still trying to understand your own? But somehow, putting these thoughts into words has been the first time in a while that I’ve felt a little lighter.

Maybe that’s exactly why I needed to write this.

Maybe there are others out there feeling just as lost, just as unsure.

And maybe that’s enough – maybe that’s a starting point.

Thanks for reading,

Nidhi :)

*Vyvanse/Elvanse is the brand name for Lisdexamfetamine (generic name).

**Disclaimer: I’m sharing my personal experiences with ADHD medication and neurodivergence. This is not medical advice. ADHD medication should only be taken if it has been prescribed for you by a qualified healthcare professional, and always under their guidance. If you have questions or concerns about ADHD, diagnosis, or treatment options, please speak to a doctor or specialist who can support your individual needs.

References

Cover image: https://theteam.co.uk/blog/me-myself-and-i-dentity/