Before I begin...
I hope I am posting this message on the right forum. If not, I am, of course, happy to repost it elsewhere if necessary.
Where to start? As with every story, I think it’s best to start at the beginning.
My story begins on July 16, 2022. I was at what used to be my regular pub, having a beer with two friends. At that moment, I was just starting to recover from what was without a doubt the darkest period of my life. Only two months earlier, I had said goodbye to my terminally ill mother. It marked the end of four turbulent years, during which my stepfather also passed away from acute leukemia, a dear colleague at my previous job suddenly died, and, just three days before I found out my mother had cancer, I was told that I couldn’t have children. At the time, my ex-partner and I were pursuing a shared dream of having children and had entered an IVF process. All of this happened during the COVID pandemic, which made it even more challenging due to restrictions on visiting and physical contact. As you can imagine, this was not a pleasant time in my life, and it took a heavy toll on me—both mentally and physically.
What happened on July 16?
It was on that day that I met my current girlfriend. A fun, spontaneous, sweet, and beautiful girl who walked into the pub halfway through the evening with two friends. It wasn’t until we’d been sitting back-to-back for about an hour that our eyes met for the first time, and I immediately fell head over heels in love.
Even though I was just beginning to find a little breathing room after all the hardship—and fully aware that a heavy period of grieving and processing was still ahead—I couldn’t ignore my feelings. I was eager to get to know her and discover what we might mean to each other. And so it began.
The start of something beautiful
We began our relationship full of excitement and adventure. We went on vacations, had spontaneous outings, and truly enjoyed each other’s company. After such a dark and turbulent time in my life, it was a relief to see the brighter side of life again. And being with someone I grew to care about deeply made it all the more meaningful.
The first six months of our relationship flew by. We became close quickly and eventually decided to move in together. At the time, it felt like a natural progression.
When the cracks began to show
However, it wasn’t long after we moved in that challenges began to arise. Looking back, I now see how much I was still struggling emotionally. I hadn’t fully dealt with my grief, and I was still carrying the weight of everything that had happened in the years prior.
I was still coping in unhealthy ways—drinking more than I should and continuing to smoke heavily. This behavior started to put pressure on our relationship. I was withdrawing emotionally, falling deeper into my grief, and it became clear that I needed more help.
Luckely I was already in therapy, which was an important step I knew I had to take long before my mother died, but it also came with its own challenges. As I started processing everything, the emotional and physical toll became more apparent. One of the hardest things I experienced was a significant loss of libido, which lasted for over a year.
This loss of intimacy created distance between us. My girlfriend felt disconnected and frustrated, and while I desperately wanted to give her the closeness and affection she deserved, I just couldn’t. This dynamic slowly began to chip away at our relationship.
A conversation that changed everything
After yet another argument during the holiday season, I went to one of my closest friends to vent. He knows me incredibly well but hasn’t spent much time around my girlfriend. What made this conversation even more significant was that my friend has ADHD himself, so he understands the symptoms and struggles that come with it on a deep, personal level. So, as I poured my heart out about our struggles, he suddenly interrupted me with a comment I’ll never forget:
“Hey, maybe it’s just me, but I feel like I’m hearing some form of ADHD in this.”
At first, I wasn’t sure what to make of his observation. But as he started describing certain traits and behaviors—difficulty regulating emotions, impulsivity, struggles with focus—I was struck by how accurately he described both me and my girlfriend.
It was almost eerie. He barely knew her, yet he was able to describe patterns in our relationship so precisely that it felt like he’d been watching us from the sidelines for years. His words opened my eyes and set me on a path of reflection and discovery.
One major part of this was how my girlfriend often reacted to criticism. She struggled immensely with even the smallest critique or suggestion, and it always seemed to turn into an argument. If I expressed any form of feedback, she would immediately become defensive and try to deflect it back onto me. She couldn’t accept that her actions were contributing to our issues, and it was often like walking on eggshells whenever I needed to bring up something difficult. At the time, I didn’t fully understand why she was reacting this way. But now, looking back through the lens of ADHD, I see that her sensitivity to criticism might be a direct reflection of ADHD-related emotional dysregulation.
What makes it even more eerie is that she had mentioned a few times that she thought she might have ADHD herself, but I had dismissed it at the time. Her father, who I now believe may also has ADHD, may have unintentionally passed down some of these struggles to her as he was often critical of her, rarely offering support, and would say things like, “You can’t do anything right.”
It’s heartbreaking to think about how much those words must have hurt her, especially coming from someone who should have been her biggest supporter. I believe this history left a lasting mark on her, making her extra sensitive to anything that even remotely resembles criticism.
As I continued reading and reflecting, I noticed other issues in our relationship that I hadn’t fully understood before. The constant miscommunications, the emotional flare-ups, the way we’d both retreat into ourselves when tensions arose—everything started to make sense when I viewed it through the lens of ADHD. But it wasn’t just the behavior I recognized; deeper, more fundamental issues began to surface. It wasn’t just the obvious misunderstandings anymore either; there were other, more subtle issues that we were both contributing to, and its becoming very clear how hard it is to break the cycle.
Reflecting on myself
As I began reading more about ADHD, I started seeing those traits in myself as well. I recognized my own struggles with focus, emotional regulation, and managing stress. It was a revelation, but it also left me with questions: Could ADHD be playing a role in our challenges? Could I have ADHD and not even realize it?
I am aware that my own grief and trauma, especially the loss of my mother and everything I had endured, had led to emotional symptoms that can closely resemble some symptoms of ADHD. I realized that the two—grief and ADHD—might overlap in some ways. But hearing it from my friend, someone who truly understood the symptoms of ADHD firsthand, made me start looking at things differently. He suggested that I read ADHD in Relationships by Melissa Orlov, which had helped him understand his own relationship dynamics better. I decided to take his advice, and after reading it, everything started to fall into place. The book illuminated patterns in relationships that I hadn’t recognized before, and I began to see parallels with my own relationship. It was eye-opening, and I felt as if I had a new lens through which to view the struggles we had been facing.
I’ve since decided to discuss these questions with my doctor to explore whether an official diagnosis might help me better understand myself.
Where I stand now
Right now, I’m trying to keep an open mind. I’m not an expert, and I can’t diagnose myself or my girlfriend. But for the first time, it feels like the puzzle pieces are starting to fall into place.
It’s a strange mix of emotions—confusion, relief, and a little hope. I don’t know exactly what lies ahead, but I’m determined to approach it with honesty and a willingness to learn, both for myself and for the people I care about.
Although I’m aware that it might be too late for us, which leaves me heartbroken, there is a part of me that strongly believes there is still hope. I love her very much, and I still feel she wants a future for us, but I think she’s just as lost as I am when it comes to how to make that happen. Yes, in her mind, she may be miles ahead of me in terms of ending this, but the way she acts toward me right now makes me wonder if she’s still looking for a way to fix this as well. Perhaps it’s just me not wanting to accept that we’re done, but I can’t shake the feeling that there’s a glimmer of possibility left, even if I’m not sure what that future looks like anymore.
