Edit: A great point made in the comments I want to highlight; while it's perfectly normal to grieve, it's also perfectly normal to not grieve. If my points relate to you, look into it a bit more and consider it, but if not - and you don't connect with it - don't be forcing yourself into a headspace, we're all different!
I think this is a very important and not very discussed topic. Dr. Barkley put out a video about this on YouTube a little while back, and I'd already started considering this well before and I was excited to see it backed by his experiences. I think it's quite important because it can help to make sense of different reactions and feelings and try to gain some clarity.
In short, upon getting diagnosed for ADHD, you very well might (I can't say likelihood) experience some "stages" of grief (order not a given) - denial, anger, bargaining, depression, acceptance. These phases can come and go, and come back again, and Dr. Barkley has a going recommendation to practitioners to discuss this as part of their diagnosis, but they often do not.
I'll just give my own experience here and I highly recommend checking in with yourself / your supports to consider if you might be in this place and needing clarity, and I hope it's helpful.
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Diagnosis: I was original diagnosed with ADHD as a differential diagnosis, but received no treatment. Things continued getting worse, and eventually a new psychiatrist said it was clearly ADHD and started medication.
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Fake Acceptance 1: I was willing to say I had ADHD, and discuss my symptoms and share experiences. It was all surface level.
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Denial 1: The diagnosis was short; I'd had the differential, but I was surprised how quickly he prescribed me medication. I took the medication, and things were much better (early meds euphoria) but even still, I thought I was probably placeboing. I straight up thought my psychiatrist had prescribed a placebo to placate me just complaining about everyday things.
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Anger 1: No, these meds are helping - and they could have helped me for so long. Tens of thousands of dollars in tuition fees from missed deadlines, rent overpayments, not making reimbursement deadlines, late penalties - decades of deep depression, burnout - when it was so obvious. Why wasn't I checked out? Why did my first psychiatrist give up on me? Why didn't my parents ever notice the many signs?
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Denial 2, Bargaining 1: Maybe eventually I can just develop the systems I need to get by, I won't need meds, or maybe I will, but I'll be able to be at 100% without ever exhausting myself or anything. Maybe this is just temporary, and I'll develop the things I need to get through it. Maybe there just wasn't childhood signs.
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Depression 1: But there were. There were signs, the meds help a lot but they don't solve everything. It sucks. It's unfair, I'm tired, I need a break.
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Acceptance 1: After a bit, I started to really feel like I had a disorder, and it was here to stay. Not only that, but the way that I think is fundamentally different from the way most people think, and I will not relate to most people on a deep level because it's been so core to me. I appreciated those I could connect to deeply, and recognized that things are just going to be harder. Society doesn't need to change - I mean, it could - but it's my responsibility, my burden, but that's okay.
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Denial 3, Bargaining 2: ... but, if I just set up my calendar, and set up alarms, and commit to things, we're good! No issues, I'm sure.
When it hit me, it hit me like a truck. I was diagnosed around 35, and after bouncing through the relief, euphoria, and anger (pretty much as OP described them) I was hit with a crushing sense of loss - I literally felt as though someone close to me had died - but who? I was fortunately in therapy as part of my diagnosis, and it took the doctor to say "Who died? You did." for me to understand. The person I lived my entire life as had ceased to exist - that was a very unhappy person, constantly struggling, constantly suffering for reasons they couldn't see. But it was me, and now they were gone. It was a brutal experience, but it gave me the freedom to start redefining my life.
That’s an incredible way to put it. I am definitely not the man I used to be, but that’s not a bad thing for me as it’s been an almost universal improvement. I do sometimes think back about ‘past me’ and feel a sense of loss about what could have been, especially when it comes to some of my relationships, but for me it doesn’t rise to the level of grief. Just…. wondering how things might have turned out instead.
100%. Great way of putting it. I bounce back forth on occasion, but the trend line is always toward accepting that old part of me, and realizing it's okay to move on because it's a very closed chapter that's been outstaying its welcome. Like any death, you still have those same neural patterns, and they're slowly getting overwritten, and it's confusing and disorienting when your muscle memory reaches for something and it's not there.
It's extra confusing when what's reached for is that feeling of not grabbing anything, but you do. When you've been falling for decades the ground feels weird for a while when you land.