Better Late Than Never: An Ode to Ritalin (Copy)
*Name has been changed.
When I took my ADHD medication for the first time, I wrote a thousand words in an hour.
This wasn’t standard for me. I’m convinced that throughout the 2000s, there was no child in the whole country more fidgety than me. During puberty, I sensed that day-to-day life shouldn’t feel quite this hard. I used to say that my head felt like it was “full of buzzing bees”.
I spent years finding ways to trick my brain into functioning properly when I needed to work. There were planners, self-imposed deadlines, rewards – even locking myself in a dark room until I finished an assignment. The last one worked the best, but I can’t recommend it, because it took me three days to adjust to daylight again.
Thinking back on it now, this screams ADHD.
Alex Kerr, Founder and CEO of the study management tool Kumo, told Canta that ADHD (attention deficit hyperactivity disorder) affects the prefrontal cortex. She described this part of the brain as “like your internal coach – responsible for discipline, time management and motivation,” but for people with ADHD, “this coach is on long service leave.”
“With deficient executive functioning skills in an ADHD brain, students often struggle with meeting deadlines, maintaining focus, finding motivation, procrastinating, experiencing task paralysis, and more.”
I can vouch for this. But it still took a growing number of diagnoses in my family to convince me to see a psychologist. In January 2023, about to turn 22, I was finally diagnosed through the private system. All it took was a few Zoom calls, a six-month wait, and a cheeky $1,300.
I was prescribed Ritalin and my word counts shot up. Suddenly I could sit through two-hour lectures with my butt going numb instead of my brain. The bees didn’t disappear – they would be there when I woke up, the little bastards – but their buzzing got a lot quieter.
A weird kid since birth, and happier for it, I had also been a bit worried that medication would take away my inherent weirdness. It definitely didn’t.
Ritalin and Concerta are the leading brand names of methylphenidate and are prescribed to many people diagnosed with ADHD and narcolepsy.
I asked newly registered pharmacist Alisa Chen, 23, about these meds and their effects. She explained that methylphenidate “belongs to a group of medicines called stimulants and works by increasing activity in the brain, particularly in the areas that control attention and behaviour.”
Chen said that they can help people with ADHD to “concentrate better, be less impulsive, and feel calmer”.
Ryan*, 29, found out he had ADHD when he took a stimulant medication offered by a friend. “I was hesitant because I don’t do drugs, like, at all. But she made the point that it was the quickest way to find out.”
“So I did a line of it… and it all just felt normal and right.”
He was later diagnosed privately, being “lucky enough to have [the] cash” for it. For Ryan, diagnosis allowed him to be “self-aware” and he has “never encountered much else” as effective for him as medication.
“I hear it’s pretty tough sitting on that wait list,” he said.
Content creator and neurodiversity advocate Christina Gera, 22, was on the wait list for “a really, really long time”. She said that a year and a half into the process, “I had to be seen privately, because there was just no room for me to do it publicly.”
A nationwide shortage of available psychiatrists leads to these lengthy wait times. Seeking a diagnosis requires a lot of patience and effort, which can get exhausting – and ADHD is known for its major impact on motivation.
In 2021, ADHD New Zealand conducted a survey of ADHD-diagnosed adults. Chairperson Darrin Bull told RNZ, “60 percent [of respondents] believe diagnosis takes too long, or are still waiting for one, and roughly a third give up trying to get any help at all.”
UC graduate Barrett Robb, 23, said, “I was only able to get a diagnosis due to money given to me by a family member. It cost over $1,500. I don’t know how I would’ve coped without it and am horrified that the barriers to access are so high.”
Ritalin and Concerta are category B2 controlled drugs here in Aotearoa; recreationally, they’re used to increase energy, excitement, and concentration.
“Recreational use of this medication is the reason why it has to be so tightly controlled at the pharmacy… I feel for the patients who have to work around these restrictions, but hopefully, you can understand that it is for the good of the community,” said Alisa Chen.
Not all unauthorised use is recreational. Ryan shared that “nearly every ADHD person” he knows “has just a big box of meds they forget to take, and they’ll share it with other ADHD folk who forget to get their prescription renewed. Probably illegal, but you do what you gotta do!”
Gera works with the group Young Neurodiversity Champions, who advocate for increased support in the education system for Aotearoa’s neurodivergent young people.
Gera said that whether or not you’re medicated for your ADHD, “the experiences you feel are valid… it could definitely feel like everyone is just playing life on easy mode, and you're just scraping behind, [but] there are lots of people like you.”
“There is hope of creating a society where… neurodiverse people are celebrated,” Gera said.
Along with medication, support for people with ADHD can include broader study options, sensory-friendly events, and assistive technologies.
Kerr’s study tool, Kumo, aims to “streamline… some of the boring monotonous activities associated with studying” and to provide “more structure and external motivation”.
University can be a tough time for those with ADHD, since assessment requires so much self-direction and organisation. This can lead to major stress and burnout.
My executive functioning wasn’t the best when I started studying, so medication completely changed university for me. Due dates are still just as stressy as they always were, but I’m able to work without bursting into tears for no reason. Most of the time.
Ryan, Gera, and Robb all consider medication to be important in their lives. “Being prescribed medication was life-changing – I would’ve dropped out of uni without it,” said Robb.
If I hadn’t been diagnosed, I might have gone in that direction. I certainly wouldn’t have made it through much longer without having a menty b.
Don’t get me wrong: uni and work aren’t everything, and your worth is not defined by your productivity. The modern world demands a lot from us, often at the expense of our well-being. But it’s nice to make things. And it’s nice to finish them. Sometimes, those things are assignments.
For two decades, I only made it halfway through everything. I was tired. I’m still very tired – but it’s only because there are so many things I have to finish. And now I can finish them.