Image credits: tylerlbarnettTyler opened up about the many struggles he faced throughout his life, sharing how years of confusion made it difficult to fully understand himself
For 42 years, Tyler Barnett carried a quiet question inside him: Why did life feel harder for him than it seemed to for everyone else? From the outside, people saw someone holding it all together — building businesses, creating art, showing up for the people he loved. But behind that, he says, was a lifelong struggle to understand why everyday life often felt exhausting, overwhelming, and deeply confusing.
When Tyler was finally diagnosed with autism and ADHD, it wasn’t just a medical answer. It was, in many ways, the first time his life truly made sense. In an emotional conversation with Bored Panda, Tyler shared what it was like spending decades feeling misunderstood, being treated for conditions that never fully explained his experience, and the unexpected person who helped him finally find clarity: his 10-year-old daughter.
Tyler says he can trace the feeling back to elementary school. “I can remember feeling different as far back as early elementary school. I had this running internal monologue dictating everything I did that often threw things up in my mind that were unkind, hypercritical and confusing.”
Even as a child, he learned how to appear “fine” on the outside. “In second grade I was really popular and remember feeling like I needed to keep being funny, likable, relatable and easy to be around. I never quite felt comfortable anywhere but I always smiled and was polite so it was invisible.”
While classmates likely saw a social, thriving kid, Tyler remembers something very different happening internally. “I remember sitting in class staring at the clock watching it move in slow motion. I felt physically uncomfortable and could barely keep it together to get through the class. I remember the relief I’d feel when school was over and I got home and could just collapse.”
He also experienced sensory challenges he didn’t understand at the time. “I couldn’t wear shirts with tags because they felt physically painful. I used to rip shirts off and throw them on the floor and cry while getting dressed.”
But embarrassment made him hide it. “I didn’t want to worry anyone and I felt really ashamed, so I just pushed through.” Over time, masking became second nature. By junior high, Tyler says he had “perfected” a version of himself that felt socially acceptable. That ability helped him move through life, but it also buried parts of who he really was.
Tyler describes adulthood as living with a constant disconnect between who he was and who he felt expected to be. “I thought I was broken. I thought something was so wrong with me I had to keep it a secret. I felt like an imposter in my own skin. It was like there was this boy underneath it all screaming to be seen.”
In his 20s, Tyler was treated for anxiety and depression. The medications didn’t help. Instead, he says, they made things worse. Later, in his 30s, he was diagnosed with bipolar disorder and prescribed heavier medication. His wife watched as the treatments flattened parts of him that had always been central to who he was. “The drugs flattened me, ruined my creativity, made me feel like I was even more messed up and broken.”
There were moments when life looked full from the outside, yet internally he was barely holding on. “Everything in my life was amazing. My business was thriving, I was married, living in my dream house, and had just had my daughter. And I’d be in my art studio physically pounding the floor asking myself what was wrong with me.”
That confusion followed him for decades. Tyler says he often pushed himself through panic attacks before meetings, battled chronic insomnia, and experienced cycles of intense burnout. Still, none of it stopped him from showing up for his family. If anything, his story is proof that struggle and strength often coexist in ways others can’t immediately see.