When I was five years old, I would climb onto my family’s circular oak table and hoist myself into the air, miraculously dangling — and swinging — from the faux-crystal chandelier. My third grade teacher can thank me for her fashionable rubber band ‘bracelets.’ She tallied my “blurt-outs” on them, granting me a prize if I was under 10 by the end of the week. Though I knew every statistic relating to professional hockey and binge-watched countless science documentaries with my grandpa, I could not and would not pay attention in class. I was aptly diagnosed with Attention Deficit Hyperactivity Disorder at eight-and-a-half years old, and I have been taking medicine ever since. Yet, until recently, my thoughts on ADHD had been contained to my own personal experiences.
In October of 2022, the FDA officially announced a national shortage of Adderall, commonly used to treat ADHD. This July, they added additional stimulants, such as Vyvanse and Concerta, to the list in short supply. Although the name-brand Vyvanse and Concerta stimulants are reportedly in stock again, their generic versions remain in short supply. The shortage is due to high demand coupled with a supposed inability to meet said demand. Currently, one of my stimulants is on backorder for 20 days at a time. Luckily, I have access to a nearby CVS and the ability to pay for my medication. But for many stimulant takers, uncertainty is abundant. In the past year, nearly 40% of caregivers and adults with ADHD said patients were struggling to obtain their ADHD medication. Some have stopped taking it altogether, while others have had to switch brands of medicine. In both cases, withdrawal and unforeseen side effects can follow. Additionally, price increases of already expensive drugs have left many families in financial disarray.
Adderall alone accounted for more than 41 million dispensed prescriptions in 2021. During the pandemic, it became even easier and more trendy to get an ADHD diagnosis. In 2020, the U.S. Department of Health and Services suspended the 2008 Ryan Haight Act, newly allowing patients seen solely over telehealth to receive a prescription. As a result, many organizations, including remote startups, began to diagnose and prescribe ADHD medicine after mere half hour online chats. Stephen Hinshaw, an ADHD expert who teaches psychology at the University of California, Berkeley, credits the increase in diagnoses to the “TikTok phenomenon.” On various social media platforms, content creators pushed “quick and dirty” online self-diagnosis questionnaires. Telemedicine startups flooded these same platforms, advertising stimulants for people who felt distracted. Though a label of ADHD can help individuals feel validated and receive adequate services, it should not be thrown around casually.
A large portion of my immediate and extended family has ADHD. While I have seen firsthand the benefits of medication and costs of going without, I remain skeptical of the overdiagnosis and overmedication of ADHD. My medicine has helped me tremendously, yet at the same time, I wonder where I would have been without it. Perhaps I would have found a way to cope naturally, or perhaps I would have gone off the grid to become a starving artist. Either way, I sometimes feel like I should’ve given life without stimulants a shot.
While the onus to resolve this crisis falls on manufacturers and the Drug Enforcement Administration, to stop pointing fingers at one another and start working together, we all have a responsibility to re-examine our relationship with ADHD to help resolve the shortage and create healthier lives. The sentiment that “everyone has a little ADHD” is widespread, yet many believe that children who struggle to sit still should be prescribed countless pills. The contrast between these viewpoints has led me to feel strange about my own ADHD. ADHD is a very real part of me that I am proud of. I believe it is partially to credit for my 30-page deep-dive papers for assignments that were only supposed to be five pages. It has also inspired both my creative side and my clumsy, goofy side that I adore. Yet, it is really hard for me to get work done without, and even with, my medication. When people who do not have the condition trivialize it by blaming ADHD for their fidgeting or saying that ADHD is just a “College Board hack,” I become frustrated. As a child, despite having a high IQ, I often performed subpar in school. To this day, I struggle with issues of time management and distraction.
As of 2019, 62% of two to 17-year-olds diagnosed with ADHD took medication for ADHD. In the hustle-oriented society we live in, it is important to be productive. Flunking school and having impulsive tantrums is undeniably less than desirable. However, there simply shouldn’t be any toddlers or preschoolers diagnosed, let alone medicated, for ADHD. Even in older children, medicine should be prescribed only after behavioral and natural treatments such as exercise and time outdoors have been tried. As a child, my medicine stunted my crazy, goofy energy. Certain medications have increased my anxiety, making my mind run even faster than normal. Sometimes, I find myself extremely tired when I do not take my afternoon medicine. Before seeking a diagnosis or medication, it is imperative to understand the unique tradeoffs for everyone who lives with and takes medicine for ADHD.
