The Five Levels of ADHD
A Love Letter to My Disintegrating Sense of Structure
Let’s get one thing straight: If ADHD were a movie, it would absolutely be a dark comedy with a plot twist every five minutes, directed by someone who misplaced the script. And as The Cynical Romantic—your caffeine-fueled, romantically self-sabotaging narrator—I’m here to confess and commiserate over what it's like to live with a brain that believes “organization” is just a polite suggestion. So pull up a seat, grab an overpriced oat milk latte, and let’s talk about the wild, misguided world of trying to understand your own neurodivergence.
The Myth of ADHD Levels: My Homemade Theory Gets Roasted by Science
Once upon a time (meaning: last year), I tried to rank my ADHD the same way I rank the severity of my bad dates. Level 1: Slightly quirky. Level 5: “I lost my phone, keys, dignity, and a sense of linear time before noon.” My personal favorite? Level 3. That’s when you remember you had a plan, but your plan now involves standing in the kitchen wondering why you’re holding a bag of frozen peas.
Of course, this theory was as scientifically valid as my belief that “one glass of wine” means “one bottle.” Enter the mental health professionals, wielding their diagnostic manuals and steady gazes. Apparently, there are types: Inattentive, Hyperactive/Impulsive, and Combined; and levels of severity: mild, moderate, severe. According to CHADD and Healthline, it’s all about executive dysfunction, attention deficits, and impulsivity—not my self-invented chaos scale. Turns out, the professionals come armed with a highlighter and a well-organized file cabinet.
My little theory had nothing but coffee stains and existential dread.
Types of ADHD
Let’s be honest. ADHD types are way more nuanced than the memes make them sound. Inattentive? You forget your grocery list. Then you forget you forgot it. Hyperactive/Impulsive? You buy three kinds of almond butter because “options.” Combined? That’s me: I leave the list at home and still buy the stuff that wasn’t even on it.
Here’s the emotional breakdown, neatly summarized by a comedian I love, Maria Bamford: “My brain’s like a committee meeting where everyone’s drunk and no one brought an agenda.” And honestly? That feels right. The mental chaos isn’t just clinical—it’s a full-time improv troupe you never auditioned for.
ADHD, OCD, and Depression: A Dysfunctional Love Triangle
Now, add OCD and depression to the mix—because my brain didn’t get the memo that one diagnosis was enough. ADHD shoves me out the door with a million ideas. OCD yanks me back, demanding I check the door lock seventeen times just in case. Depression sits on my chest and whispers, “Why bother?
The result is a performance that reads as “inconsistent,” “unreliable,” and “scattered.” But inside? It’s a civil war. Every morning, it’s a psychological Battle of the Bastards just to get to the shower. Dr. Ned Hallowell, an ADHD specialist, has echoed similar sentiments: “ADHD is not a disorder of knowing what to do, but of doing what you know.”
And let’s talk about guilt. Before I knew what was wrong, I kept asking myself: “Why can’t I just get it together?” “Why do I give up halfway through?” Spoiler: Untreated neurodivergence, a toxic cocktail of shame and burnout—served warm, no garnish.”
Burnout and Masking: The Hidden Fourth Diagnosis
Here’s another confession: I spent decades thinking I was “just lazy.” Turns out, I’d built an entire identity around emergency mode—overachieving, peacekeeping, fixing everyone’s problems except my own. It’s like being your own emotional pit crew, except you also keep running over your own feet.
Late-diagnosis burnout feels like waking up one day and realizing you’ve been carrying a backpack full of bricks you thought was normal. No wonder I was tired. No wonder you’re tired too. (If you’ve ever canceled plans because you “needed a night in” but really just needed to lie face-down on the carpet for an hour, you get it.)
Vulnerable Moments: When Your Past Mistakes Get Loud
Can I be honest? Some nights, my brain likes to do a little “greatest hits” reel of every embarrassing thing I’ve ever done. (“Remember when you accidentally called your third-grade teacher ‘mom’? She does.”) But with a late ADHD diagnosis, I’ve learned that the real me wasn’t the disaster; the real me was just trying to survive.
Now, I get to make choices with clarity—not shame. That’s progress.
Blending Expert Insights: What Psychologists and Comedians Have Taught Me
Psychologists say late-diagnosed ADHD adults are masters of “masking”—hiding their struggles behind perfectionism or humor (Dr. Russell Barkley notes that “the greatest impairment is not the symptoms, but the consequences: shame, lost self-esteem, and missed opportunities”). Comedians say the way to survive is to find the punchline in your pain. I say: Why not both? If you can’t find your keys, at least you can find a good story.
So here’s my personal takeaway, courtesy of both therapy and stand-up specials: You don’t need to have it all together. You just need to be honest enough to laugh about it.
Final Thoughts (& One Lingering Question)
To everyone out there living in organized chaos, improvising your way through neurodivergence: You’re not alone, and you’re not broken. You’re just starring in a movie with no script and a supporting cast of misplaced objects.
So, tell me: If your ADHD had a theme song, would it be “Oops!...I Did It Again” or “Don’t Stop Believin’”? Or are we all just humming the Jeopardy! timer at this point?
Stay flawed, stay fabulous, and don’t forget where you put your heart (or your keys).
Professional Sources
CHADD (Children and Adults with Attention-Deficit/Hyperactivity Disorder) — diagnostic criteria, ADHD subtypes, severity
➜ Used in “The Myth of ADHD Levels” section [1]Healthline — adult ADHD symptoms, executive dysfunction, overlap with depression and OCD
➜ Used in “The Myth of ADHD Levels” and comorbidity discussion [2]Dr. Edward (Ned) Hallowell, MD — executive function framing, “knowing vs doing”
➜ Used in “ADHD, OCD, and Depression: A Dysfunctional Love Triangle” [3]Dr. Russell Barkley, PhD — masking, long-term consequences, shame and self-esteem impacts
➜ Used in “Blending Expert Insights” [4]
Three Popular / Highly Rated Books on Adult ADHD
These align perfectly with late-diagnosis + masking + shame recovery themes:
Driven to Distraction — Edward M. Hallowell, MD & John J. Ratey, MD
The classic. Compassionate, validating, and practical.Taking Charge of Adult ADHD — Russell A. Barkley, PhD
More structured, research-heavy, excellent for clarity and self-trust.ADHD 2.0 — Edward M. Hallowell, MD & John J. Ratey, MD
Modern update with neuroscience, strengths-based framing.
