The Man Behind the Masking

A few weeks back I was invited to write about my experiences as an ECD with ADHD. Usually, I’d carefully craft a piece that I hope would make me look smart, witty and most importantly like I’ve casually knocked it out in half hour. Thing is, that’s what’s called lying or to use the appropriate medical term; 'Masking'.  

Mostly, I wouldn’t give masking a second thought. However, since this piece is primarily about ADHD, I wouldn’t just be masking my own struggles. I’d be lying about the condition itself and somehow that doesn’t seem right. Besides, October is ADHD awareness month, so I’ve decided to give you a peek behind all the masking. This idea to finally fess up about my struggles came from Noel & Bex, our PR team from Wildstorm PR, after I’d sent them yet another grovelling email apologising for yet another missed deadline. They wryly pointed out that perhaps this is what I should be writing about. 

The unflattering truth is that these things are always, without exception, a nightmare for me. This piece wasn’t casually knocked out, it’s taken weeks and that was just the upfront procrastination and worrying. Only after I’ve generated enough negative head-noise and anxiety to goad me into action, will I manage to get something down on paper. Then convinced that it’s all shit (and so am I) I start over again. 

If at this point you’re thinking; “Errr yeah, we’ve all occasionally missed deadlines and second guessed ourself and made excuses for late work too – it’s not the end of the world”. That’s true – and that’s why ADHD is a spectrum. We all appear somewhere on that spectrum, except that people with ADHD are at the extreme end of it. We don’t experience this stuff occasionally, it’s 24/7/365 and it’s often turned up to high intensity. ADHD is a condition that pretty much colours all of our thoughts, feelings and actions. This is what gets masked – not the occasional blip – it’s the constant head-noise. 

In layman’s terms, 'Masking' is pretending not to have a neurodiversity. It might be hard to imagine how emotionally and physically draining it is to mask all the time. So, I’ve made up a little equine analogy to offer some insight. It goes like this; imagine everyone’s brain is like a horse. Neurotypical brains are nice well-trained horses whilst ADHD brains are wild unruly horses. The neurotypical horses are generally compliant, well-behaved and can even do that clever sideways trotting thing you see in dressage. Whilst our ADHD horses are all over the shop, constantly rearing up, trying to throw us off. People with ADHD expend enormous amounts of energy wrestling with our horses, just trying to get them to move in a single direction. This feeling of not being able to do the simple things that everyone else seems to find so damned easy can be very demoralising. Not to mention embarrassing, as our horsey brains will regularly dig their hooves in, say “fuck you, NO!” and buck, so that we land in the dirt feeling stupid again.

There’s an upside though, because our horses are ‘wild’ they’re capable of doing some amazing things. Given the right conditions our horses can gallop like the wind, jump the highest fences and take us on the kind of wild, thrilling adventures that can show us new worlds. So, it’s not all bad - all the time. Fortunately, I’ve managed to find a job where my wild unruly brain gets to run free quite often. Being a creative person in a creative agency means that I don’t have to mask 100% of the time and occasionally I even get to let rip. Which is a massive relief and huge a blessing as precious few jobs can offer this kind of outlet for an ADHD horse/brain. 

It’s strange to think how I ended up as an ECD, somebody recently asked; “What was it that first attracted you to the creative industries?” My answer was “Nothing!” - I didn’t even know the creative industries existed. I was a working-class kid with undiagnosed ADHD, I couldn’t concentrate in class and flunked out of school. I would have happily taken any job just to get away from school. Believe it or not, I even applied to work in a bank and then the army but luckily, both turned me down.

So no, I didn’t choose a job in the creative industries - it chose me. This was the only industry that would have me. The only place where the way my brain works wasn’t just accepted, it was positively embraced. For that, I am deeply grateful. It’s no exaggeration to say that this career set my life on the right path - I could so easily have wound up in prison, where it is estimated that 45% of the inmates are suspected to have ADHD. Plus, if I had, I wouldn’t have been the first person in my family to do a stretch. So there, but for the grace of the creative industries, go I. 

Since the ADHD diagnosis, two years ago, I’ve thought a lot about my role as an ECD it’s hilarious really. You couldn’t make up a job more suited to my peculiar talents. Most days I bounce from meeting to meeting discussing one stimulating project after another. Creative ideas like a Jaffa Cakes collab or a documentary for Hilton. Always something different, never boring. The rooms are often full of smart, vibey people. I’m allowed to be spontaneous, creative and in the moment. In the most part I feel safe to just be me and occasionally even reach a state of flow. I also try to remember all the other types of diversity that turn up in those rooms and try to create a safe space for everyone. 

I’m not perfect - far from it, as you can see. The job isn’t perfect either - there’s still far too much pressure in our industry and it’s tough times out there, financially, for everyone. But when it’s all getting on top, I take a deep breath, look at the smart people and stimulating projects that surrounded me - then consider where I could have ended up and I feel incredibly lucky.  

So that’s it really, this isn’t one of those articles where I demand a whole bunch of concessions for neurodiverse people in the workplace. Of course, all that needs to happen but there’s others more qualified to champion those changes. Instead, I want to offer a well overdue 'Thank You' for having me - and for having all the other neurodiverse people that have finally found a home in this brilliant industry of ours. Just look around a little, the place is swarming with them. Yep, you can’t miss ‘em, they’re the ones wearing masks and wrestling horses. Just don’t forget what they’re capable of though – remember; if you give them some time, help them feel safe and show them enough freedom, before you know it, they’ll come galloping back with saddle bags full of gold.