If You Really Cared, You Would… (and other misunderstandings)

This one is more of a Dear Diary post, written after a really hard day. I just really want people who don’t have ADHD to understand how it can feel to show up in this world with neurodivergence. So here’s how I’d explain it…

Imagine you show up every day at a job you really, really care about. For the last five years, you've given your best effort, but for some reason you keep making twice as many mistakes as your colleagues. On the days you're really determined not to screw up, maybe that number drops. A bit.

Your colleagues have gotten a bit bitter and resentful, and honestly, you get it. In performance reviews, the consistent feedback is to take the job more seriously. Your manager has asked whether you think this is a good fit, whether you actually care about the job at all. Sometimes people notice how hard you're trying. Mostly what they notice is when you screw up again in a way no one else seems to.

You think maybe you'd like to find a better fitting job. But what if it wasn’t just your job? What if it was your whole life and there were no other options?

Here’s another way to frame it. Think about something you struggle with. Like in an unusual way. Imagine that you're generally a competent person, but when it comes to that one thing (remembering names, reading maps, knowing right from left, drinking hot beverages without burning yourself, reading an analog clock) you literally just can't hang. Despite your efforts, it doesn't stick.

Now imagine that skill was really important to your daily functioning. To the respect and esteem people gave you. To how much income you could make, how well you could advance in your career, the quality of your relationships. You'd probably say, I'll try harder. But imagine the best skills and strategies could only ever improve this skill by twenty percent when you're trying. And now imagine you had not one, but five of these skill deficiencies, all equally important to your daily functioning. And try as you might, you can never fully eject from the activities and interactions that rely on these skills. Ever.

ADHDers struggle with many of the skills that make adults seem "good at life": planning for the future, the ability to show up on time, staying organized, not breaking stuff, remembering things, catching important details, paying bills on time, planning ahead for birthdays and holidays, navigating, finishing and following through. Basic life skills for the modern world.

And there's a history of being bad at this stuff, which means extra head noise shouting about where we're likely to screw up, how mad people will be when we do, how dumb it was when we did or said that thing. Which makes it even harder to remember not to leave the keys in the door or to turn off the burner. This. All day long. Forever. And the stakes of messing these things up consistently are high. It could cost a job, a marriage, a financially secure future, the ability to enjoy moments that otherwise seem calm.

And THEN imagine that the people you love, the colleagues you respect, say things like, "I just can't help but think that if you really cared you wouldn't keep doing that," or "If it was important, you'd remember." (That’s the worst one, honestly.) And it feels impossible, and a bit silly, to keep insisting how much you really, really do care, but how frustratingly little that seems to affect the outcome.

So my internal work - and my work with clients with ADHD or AuDHD - tends to center around two goals. On one hand, accepting the inevitability that life requires a certain level of competence in these executive function areas, and figuring out how to level up a bit where we can so we can get good enough at them. On the other, adjusting our lives in ways that don't require so much in these areas. And underneath both of those, trying to regain some self love and the ability to hold our own hand and offer comfort when it’s all just a little much.

Whether you are neurodivergent - or loving someone who is - good luck out there today. I’m rooting for you.