Finding Hope: My Husband’s Journey with Autism, ADHD, and Recovery
At the start of this year, my husband received a life-changing diagnosis: high-functioning autism (previously referred to as Asperger’s) and ADHD. When the doctor said the words out loud, it felt like puzzle pieces finally clicking into place. I wasn’t shocked or sad — just deeply relieved. It explained so much about the man I fell in love with and married five years ago.
This article is my perspective on the journey leading up to his diagnosis, the struggles we faced, and the growth that followed. It’s not just a story about him; it’s a story about us — our love, resilience, and the challenges that come with being partners navigating neurodivergence.
When Talking Things Out Wasn’t an Option
Early in our relationship, I noticed something unique about my husband: having discussions — especially about conflicts — felt impossible. To him, things that seemed “obvious” to most people were not obvious at all.
Imagine trying to explain to someone why humans need to breathe — it’s so fundamental you’ve never really thought about it, right? That’s what many conversations felt like with him.
Our arguments followed a frustrating cycle. I’d bring up an issue, but he wouldn’t accept my reasoning unless I provided evidence that met his standards. If he didn’t fully understand or agree, he’d comply only to keep the peace, but unresolved tensions would bubble up later.
And so the pattern repeated: argument, temporary truce, and eventually, another explosion.
Before Diagnosis: A Dangerous Spiral
Without a proper diagnosis, my husband lacked the resources he needed. He was misdiagnosed, under-medicated, and overprescribed. Sleep issues? Here’s a sleeping pill. Depression? Try an antidepressant. But these weren’t solutions — they were band-aids.
When traditional medications didn’t work, he turned to self-medication. At first, it was prescription stimulants like Adderall bought from friends. Then came methamphetamine. He thought it was the only way to keep functioning, especially when I was pregnant with our daughter.
Our home became chaotic. Strangers came and went. Some stayed overnight. Looking back, I realize they were part of the drug scene, but at the time, I felt powerless to stop it. I begged him to quit, but he couldn’t — or wouldn’t. I was terrified for our family.
Rock Bottom: A House Full of Strangers
By the time our daughter was born, our house had turned into something unrecognizable. It wasn’t just our home anymore — it had become a haven for people using drugs. Strangers loitered in the garage, and there were cars constantly lining our driveway. One day, I walked into the bathroom to find someone passed out with a needle in hand.
Every penny seemed to vanish into the black hole of addiction. I was recovering from a C-section, caring for a newborn, and desperately trying to hold on to my sanity. My husband was no longer the man I knew. The drugs had taken over.
Then came the police. Someone must have reported what was happening. When they took my husband away, I felt an overwhelming mix of emotions: grief, fear, and — shockingly — relief.
Climbing Out of the Darkness
His arrest was a turning point. Through drug court, he faced the consequences of his actions and began a grueling process of rehabilitation. It wasn’t easy. He relapsed. He was sent back to jail a few times. But six months in rehab changed everything.
He graduated from rehab as a star participant. Drug court became his foundation for rebuilding his life. For the first time, he committed to working on himself. He sought out specialists, including a psychiatrist who finally diagnosed his autism and ADHD. With the right treatment plan, he no longer needed street drugs to “feel normal.”
He often reflects on that time, saying:
“People think addiction is a choice, but it’s never that simple. The real issue is that society — and often even our own families — don’t understand or address the root causes. For me, it was masking my true self for so many years.”
Where We Are Now
This year, he graduated from drug court and has been thriving ever since. He’s found therapists and doctors who understand him, and he’s built a treatment plan that works. For the first time in 30 years, he doesn’t feel the need to pretend to be someone he’s not.
Today, he’s the CEO of his own company — something I’m incredibly proud of. But that’s a story for another time.
Looking Ahead
In my next article, I’ll dive deeper into what it’s like living with someone diagnosed with Asperger’s: their quirks, their strengths, and how I’ve learned to support him. Life with him is never boring, and there are plenty more stories to share.
For now, I’ll leave you with this:
Marriage isn’t about fixing each other — it’s about growing together.
And sometimes, the hardest paths lead to the most beautiful destinations.
