”Accommodating my neurodivergence was life-changing”

Dr Joanna Dyson always envisioned herself as a “mad scientist”. From firing lasers at aerosols in a dark basement during her PhD, to flying instrumented tethered balloons in the wide-open spaces of the Arctic, where she regularly travels for her research. One year ago, only a couple of weeks before moving to Switzerland, she discovered a new aspect of herself: she was diagnosed with attention deficit hyperactive disorder (ADHD), and her perspective on her life changed.

Growing up, Dyson was a bit of an outlier. “I didn’t really understand other children,” she recalls. “I spent all my time with adults and got frustrated with kids who were slow or didn’t think the way I did.” Later, she would constantly feel more hyperactive than other people. “But because I’m intelligent and a woman, it wasn’t as noticeable,” she says. As a matter of fact, girls pick up from a young age to mask their emotions and copy those around them, she underlines, which leads to lack of diagnoses or misdiagnosis compared to boys. According to the young researcher, the process of masking contributed massively to make her life more overwhelming and draining.

Her ADHD diagnosis wasn’t therefore a shock. “It was like: Oh, I suppose this makes sense.” The real difference, she says, came from the decision to focus on herself, allowing time for introspection and embracing accommodations to make life smoother. Besides, starting to take medication helped her tackle the more un-manageable aspects of her neurodivergence. “It was life-changing. Suddenly, I could start a thought and end it. I could walk into a room and do what I needed to do instead of being instantly mentally and physically overwhelmed, turning around and walking straight out.”

Suddenly, I could start a thought and end it. I could walk into a room and do what I needed to do...

Dyson’s career as an atmospheric chemist began at the University of Leeds, where she completed her undergraduate studies, master’s, PhD, and a postdoc. She then moved on to the British Antarctic Survey in Cambridge and is now based at ALPOLE in Sion, frequently commuting to the Far North. "With the Arctic warming much faster than the rest of the globe," she explains, "I’m trying to understand how aerosols, both natural and man-made, affect cloud formation in the Arctic and how that’s changing with the climate."

Struggling with chronic anxiety and depression

Before the diagnosis, Dyson had always outwardly been highly functional, even while struggling with anxiety and chronic depression throughout her adult life. “I’ve always been up, at work, doing all of my coursework. High productivity, even though it didn’t correlate to my mood at all. It was completely separate. But eventually, it just caught up with me...”

She describes the paralysis that set in during the worst moments of her undiagnosed ADHD: “I’d get up and go to work, but in the evenings and on weekends, when people couldn’t see me, I’d just sit and stare at the wall for the entire day. My brain was full of fluff, dense. It was like trying to force a thought through cerebral treacle.”

Small tasks became insurmountable. “I couldn’t go into the kitchen for ten days because I hadn’t done the dishes. It wasn’t just that I didn’t want to do them; it was like my brain couldn’t process it.”

Joanna Dyson’s partner, Katie, who also has ADHD coupled with autism, understands these struggles better than most. Together, they’ve developed a system that works for them. “She does the dishes, I do the finances,” Joanna mentions. “Our neurodivergence doesn’t present exactly the same way, but it’s about knowing what the other person is going through and making it work.”

Dealing with sensory overload

To deal with sensory overload, Joanna regularly wears noise-canceling headphones in meetings to help her focus, something she discussed with her supervisor soon after her arrival at EPFL. “She was very practical about it. ‘As long as you can still contribute, it’s fine’,” Dyson recalls. “So, I wear them, and people just know that’s what I need. I can still hear and get involved in discussion; I just don’t want all the extra sensory input.” With the support of those around her, this straightforward approach allows her to work with her ADHD rather than letting it control her.

In the Arctic, she loves sitting on the back of the ship, legs dangling over the water, watching the sun that never sets. “There’s something amazing about being on a ship in the Arctic. It’s just you, the science, and the ocean. The most mind-blowing thing is laundry: there’s only one load of laundry, and it goes back into the drawer. It’s so much easier to manage life when you have no material possessions and someone else is making your meals and even telling you when to eat them!”

Ten-hour trip each way for a few pills

But navigating the Swiss medical system has been a different kind of challenge. Despite having health insurance, Dyson still flies back to the UK every month to pick up her ADHD medication. “It’s a ten-hour trip each way for a few pills, which is ridiculous. But I haven’t been able to find a psychiatrist here who speaks English and can prescribe the medication. It’s been over a year, and I’m still flying back.”

Her broader point is about the need for improved support systems for people with disabilities. She would praise more accommodations at EPFL, ensuring that both staff and students have access to disability services. These could include financial assistance for physical aids like noise-canceling headphones or tools for dyslexia, access to disability advisors or peer mentors, and the creation of discussion forums or safe spaces for individuals with both mental and physical disabilities.“There’s not much understanding of ADHD, or even neurodivergence in general in Switzerland and I would love to see this change!” she notes.

There’s not much understanding of ADHD, or even neurodivergence in general in Switzerland.

In between her trips to UK and her fieldwork, Dyson fills her life with a dizzying array of hobbies – another signal of her hyperactivity – like roller skating, ice skating, powerlifting, woodworking, sewing, painting, crocheting, knitting. “If I sit still for too long, my brain becomes under-stimulated and just tells me I’m being unproductive.”

Getting back into reading

Since she is under medication, she’s rekindled an old habit: “When things started to really snowball and get worse with my mental health, I was not able to focus on reading anything outside of what I absolutely had to for my job. My partner also helped me get back into that.” And like for everything else, intensity is the watchword: fourteen books at once currently, including the French translation of a Stephen King novel and a French book for six-year-olds about a polar bear in the Arctic, “which is probably a good level,” she says wittily.

Humor, spirit, and vivacity are Joanna Dyson’s trademarks, wrapped in a fast-paced rhythm. With a little help from chemistry, she’s now able to make the most of them.