A review by edgwareviabank
Taking Charge of Adult ADHD, by Russell A. Barkley
informative
reflective
slow-paced
2.5
Whenever I see a list of symptoms that can help people work out whether they should seek an ADHD diagnosis, I find myself relating to quite a few. Many of the social media posts about executive function, impulse control, and rejection sensitivity from content creators with ADHD (especially Dani Donovan) hit very close to home, and it seems this sort of connection with things read or heard online can be a prompt for people to look into professional help. I've been long wondering whether any of this means I should take steps to get evaluated, too.
A friend sent me a digital copy of this book, saying they found it very useful to get their thoughts in order on the subject and pick up strategies to manage daily life. I saw it as the most convenient opportunity to start doing the same without the more time-consuming and bureaucracy-heavy steps I keep putting off (searching for the right doctor or therapist, for one). It's ironic, then, that the author's main piece of advice is exactly what I keep talking myself out of: getting diagnosed by a professional, and accepting medication as the most effective form of treatment. That advice left me with mixed feelings for a number of reasons. I'll try to outline them, with the caveat I'm not the most articulate of writers when it comes to discussing science and research.
First off: it is a lot of people's experience that seeking a diagnosis, never mind treatment, can be gruelling and time-consuming. The book seems to assume the best-case scenario: that the reader is able to easily find a professional who takes their symptoms seriously, and follows them through a thorough treatment plan over time. I doubt getting evaluated, diagnosed and treated is that straightforward. Speaking from personal experience, and knowing the experience of others close to me, the risk of not being believed by healthcare professionals is high enough with conditions that have visible physical symptoms; it seems to be even trickier to navigate when the issues that affect a patient's life in a significant way are rooted in the brain.
Multiplying that by a factor of ten, or perhaps a hundred, the author is American, and while the experience of ADHD is universal, some of the more practical advice is US-based. Much as I believe in getting professional help when possible, there's something tone-deaf about the way this particular book presents it as a blanket solution. I'm thinking about the prohibitive costs of healthcare in the US, and the privatised system that doesn't do the majority of people many favours. I wouldn't be surprised if there was a chunk of readers who feel excluded, and end up despairing even more as they read that none of the strategies for managing day-to-day life can really work unless medication is in place.
Moving beyond the emphasis on medical treatment, which does come with scientific backing despite my doubts on the delivery, I found some of the advice dated (the internet, smartphones and social media would take up a way bigger chunk if someone were to write this today), or at the very least, strangely worded. Some of the author's warnings about how ADHD can ruin lives and relationships sound overly stern: as a reader who picked up the book to feel more hopeful about symptoms I feel helpless about, I sometimes felt blamed rather than supported or understood. That happens especially in the sections about risks connected to crime and substance use, and even more so on the repeated occasions the author links ADHD with dangerous driving, which are puzzling in their frequency, until it becomes clear that's something that affected his personal life in a tragic way.
Ultimately, I must make an argument for taking this review with a pinch of salt. I don't feel well placed to say whether this book could be useful to someone who struggles with (severe) ADHD, because the way it's written suggests to me that it's unlikely I'm part of that group. I can still find quite a bit to identify with in a list of symptoms, but the author's point that adult ADHD is the evolution of symptoms already noticeable in childhood, and his description of impairments a lot more severe and harmful than what I experience, lead me to think that I wouldn't be able to access any form of treatment even if I tried. It was an interesting read, mainly because I'd never had the opportunity or the drive to read an entire book on the subject before. But there's a very real possibility I'm not its target audience.
A friend sent me a digital copy of this book, saying they found it very useful to get their thoughts in order on the subject and pick up strategies to manage daily life. I saw it as the most convenient opportunity to start doing the same without the more time-consuming and bureaucracy-heavy steps I keep putting off (searching for the right doctor or therapist, for one). It's ironic, then, that the author's main piece of advice is exactly what I keep talking myself out of: getting diagnosed by a professional, and accepting medication as the most effective form of treatment. That advice left me with mixed feelings for a number of reasons. I'll try to outline them, with the caveat I'm not the most articulate of writers when it comes to discussing science and research.
First off: it is a lot of people's experience that seeking a diagnosis, never mind treatment, can be gruelling and time-consuming. The book seems to assume the best-case scenario: that the reader is able to easily find a professional who takes their symptoms seriously, and follows them through a thorough treatment plan over time. I doubt getting evaluated, diagnosed and treated is that straightforward. Speaking from personal experience, and knowing the experience of others close to me, the risk of not being believed by healthcare professionals is high enough with conditions that have visible physical symptoms; it seems to be even trickier to navigate when the issues that affect a patient's life in a significant way are rooted in the brain.
Multiplying that by a factor of ten, or perhaps a hundred, the author is American, and while the experience of ADHD is universal, some of the more practical advice is US-based. Much as I believe in getting professional help when possible, there's something tone-deaf about the way this particular book presents it as a blanket solution. I'm thinking about the prohibitive costs of healthcare in the US, and the privatised system that doesn't do the majority of people many favours. I wouldn't be surprised if there was a chunk of readers who feel excluded, and end up despairing even more as they read that none of the strategies for managing day-to-day life can really work unless medication is in place.
Moving beyond the emphasis on medical treatment, which does come with scientific backing despite my doubts on the delivery, I found some of the advice dated (the internet, smartphones and social media would take up a way bigger chunk if someone were to write this today), or at the very least, strangely worded. Some of the author's warnings about how ADHD can ruin lives and relationships sound overly stern: as a reader who picked up the book to feel more hopeful about symptoms I feel helpless about, I sometimes felt blamed rather than supported or understood. That happens especially in the sections about risks connected to crime and substance use, and even more so on the repeated occasions the author links ADHD with dangerous driving, which are puzzling in their frequency, until it becomes clear that's something that affected his personal life in a tragic way.
Ultimately, I must make an argument for taking this review with a pinch of salt. I don't feel well placed to say whether this book could be useful to someone who struggles with (severe) ADHD, because the way it's written suggests to me that it's unlikely I'm part of that group. I can still find quite a bit to identify with in a list of symptoms, but the author's point that adult ADHD is the evolution of symptoms already noticeable in childhood, and his description of impairments a lot more severe and harmful than what I experience, lead me to think that I wouldn't be able to access any form of treatment even if I tried. It was an interesting read, mainly because I'd never had the opportunity or the drive to read an entire book on the subject before. But there's a very real possibility I'm not its target audience.