When Everything Is ADHD and Everyone Is Diagnosed, What Are We Actually Naming?
A Little Note Before We Begin
This is part one of a two-part reflection — not a diagnosis, not a dismissal, and certainly not a judgment. I honor the lived experiences of those with ADHD and those who’ve found clarity and healing through naming it. What I’m exploring here is the cultural wave — the trend, the labeling frenzy, the deeper questions beneath the surface. If it stings, pause. Breathe. Maybe part two will soothe. Maybe not. Either way, this is offered with curiosity, not condemnation, and always with a wink from the goddess within.
When everything becomes medical
Lately, it feels like an increasing number of everyday experiences are being folded into the ADHD label or named a disorder. And instead of asking why, we’re just rolling with it, diagnosing, medicating, taming. And many seem willing, even relieved, to adopt the label, accept the medication, and quietly adjust to being more manageable, even if it means giving up a little wildness or freedom. But at what cost?
It struck a chord. Not because I don’t believe ADHD is real, of course it is. People live with it, struggle with it, and thrive despite or even because of it. But I can’t help but notice the trend, thepandemic, if you will: ADHD is everywhere.
We are being flooded, TikToks, tweets, reels, podcast episodes, all eager to explain how forgetting your keys, not replying to emails, needing quiet to work, feeling overwhelmed in crowds, hyper-focusing on a new hobby, and procrastinating on your taxes… is probably ADHD. Maybe even high-functioning ADHD or masked ADHD or female-presenting ADHD. Pick your label.
Now, before anyone sharpens their pitchfork, let me say this: I believe self-understanding is powerful. Naming an experience can bring immense relief. It can break shame. It can open doors to help. I get that. But when did being bored in school become a symptom instead of a signal? We seem to have gone from just quirky to definitely disordered in record time .
Awareness? Or Overdiagnosis?
Recent studies indicate that while ADHD diagnoses and medication prescriptions have increased, the actual prevalence of ADHD has remained stable. This suggests that the rise in diagnoses may be due to heightened awareness and reduced stigma, rather than an actual increase in cases.
However, some experts express concern that this surge might lead to overdiagnosis, especially in individuals with milder symptoms. A systematic review found evidence of overdiagnosis and overtreatment of ADHD in children and adolescents, emphasizing the need for careful assessment to avoid unnecessary labeling.
The Impact of Labels
While a formal diagnosis can provide access to support and resources, it's important to consider the potential downsides. Labels can sometimes reinforce negative stereotypes, hinder self-esteem, and limit personal growth. Adopting a holistic and strengths-based approach can help individuals thrive without being confined by their diagnosis.
But what really worries me is not the naming… It's what comes next.
Are we pathologizing normal human experience?
Somewhere along the way, the beautiful, messy spectrum of human behavior is being sliced into disorders and dysfunctions. We all forget things. We all have bad days. We all get bored. We all zone out. Are we really all neurodivergent now?
When being human becomes a diagnosis, where do we draw the line?
And more disturbingly… What kind of society are we building when we turn to labels and meds first, instead of pausing to ask: What’s causing this?
Why are so many people burnt out, exhausted, overwhelmed, unable to focus?
Why are children struggling to sit still in classrooms designed like factories?
Why are adults drowning in to-do lists and capitalism-induced anxiety?
Maybe your brain’s not broken — maybe it just doesn’t like late-stage capitalism.
Maybe it’s in the systems.
Medicated, subdued… and manageable?
There’s a darker side to all this, and it makes me uncomfortable: the quiet suggestion that once we label and medicate someone, they’re now easier to manage. A student who can sit still. An employee who meets deadlines. A woman who stops questioning the chaos of her life and just gets things done.
And that’s where control comes into play.
When we turn discomfort into diagnosis, are we empowering people … Or pacifying them?
When we prescribe medication without broader support, are we soothing the symptom or silencing the protest?
It’s a complicated conversation. ADHD meds can be life-changing. Labels can be freeing. But we need to be very, very careful that this wave of ADHD-awareness doesn’t become a tool of soft oppression, a way of slotting everyone neatly back into the machine.
What if it’s not your brain that’s broken?
What if you’re not disordered — just different?
What if you’re not dysfunctional, just sensitive to a dysfunctional world?
What if your restlessness, your big feelings, your craving for beauty and movement and slowness… What if that’s wisdom, not a symptom?
I’m not saying don’t get diagnosed. I’m not saying throw away your Ritalin.
I’m saying: Ask deeper questions.
Ask what you need, not just what’s wrong with you.
Ask who benefits when you’re labeled.
Ask how your uniqueness might be medicine, not malfunction.
Because perhaps the real epidemic isn’t ADHD.
Perhaps it’s disconnection.
From our bodies.
From the Earth.
From a slower, softer rhythm.
Maybe the cure isn’t chemical — maybe it’s community.
And perhaps the real remedy isn’t in a label, but in a revolution.
Voilà.
I believe that is all for today.
I would be so happy to hear from you.
If this spoke to your heart, I’d love for you to share it with a sister, a friend, a fellow Goddess on the path.
I send, as always, love, light and gratitude.
Isaya
P.S. There’s also the creativity piece, the idea that ADHD makes you more original, more inspired. Maybe yes. But maybe creativity isn’t reserved for the neurodivergent. Let’s talk about that next time...
