The ADHD Brain Buddy

I’m so sick of feeling stuck.

I know I have to eat breakfast, but there are too many choices in the fridge, and I can’t just pick one.

I need to get off my phone and start working, but when I put it down it feels like I’m stretching a rubber band that will inevitably snap back and have me scrolling again within the minute.

I feel like my career would progress so much faster if I could just reply to emails, but the task always feels so massive and terrifying that I can’t start.

I want to exercise more and go to bed earlier, drink more water and call my grandma at least twice a week. I want to be better. But I’ve become so familiar with this cycle of optimistically starting habits, only to feel them slip away in a matter of days, that even thinking about improving myself dredges up a cloud of dread and shame.

Now’s probably an important time to mention I have Attention Deficit Hyperactivity Disorder. I’ve had it my whole life, but only cottoned on to that cheeky little fact a few years ago when I was diagnosed at the ripe old age of 23.

I’m 28 now, and the last time I wrote about ADHD (in my book The Year I Met My Brain), I started by talking about whirlpool afternoons – those times you get so caught up in something whichleads to something else which distracts you even further, which leads you to a new thing, and so on and so on. Those times when you only realise how deep you’ve been sucked down once you run out of air – your appointments missed, your chores undone and the house a mess. Back then, I thought moments like that were the most frustrating part of ADHD, and I was terrified at how easily I could be swept along by the currents of my brain without even noticing.

In the years since, I’ve done a lot of growing. I’ve become so much more comfortable with my mind, I’ve built a bunch of skills, I’ve learnt to sail my mental boat out of the vortex when I need to, and to enjoy the spiralling ride when it suits. I’m not terrified of being swept along by the currents anymore.

No, nowadays I’m scared of the opposite. When the winds and the waves leave me utterly stranded.

I keep talking about the ocean because that’s how I like to explain the experience of having an ADHD brain to others. For neurotypical people (someone without a neurodevelopmental condition like ADHD), getting something done is kind of like walking on land. There are hills to climb and diversions to avoid, but ultimately the only thing you have to do to change direction or speed is tell your feet which way to face and how fast to go.

But when travelling by sailboat across a wide-open sea, there are a lot more factors at play.

Sometimes, having an ‘ocean brain’ allows us to catch brilliantwinds, move at awesome speeds, and even get places faster than our non-ADHD peers . . . it’s just that we don’t always get to choose when that happens. And when your intentions don’t align with the tides of your brain, you can end up stuck.

While there are plenty of resources out there offering advice on how to stop procrastinating or overcome decision fatigue, it’s difficult for non-ADHDers to understand how many different types of ‘stuck’ we have to contend with.

Sometimes you’re stuck because the waves of your mind are so choppy you can barely manoeuvre your boat, and you’re left staring at a laptop screen trying to force yourself to work but unable tomake your fingers type. Other times it comes when you get a sudden, perfect gust of wind and you’re standing in your living room filled with energy, only to realise you have no idea what direction your boat should be facing or where to even start. Or perhaps you’re stuck because riptides from below the ocean’s surface trap you in their grasp, and you find yourself reading a text over and over and over, feeling like the world is ending and not knowing why.

It’s in these moments I often fantasise about a world in which I could hire someone to walk behind me all day and just tell me what to do. A friendly, ever-present cruise director who will remind me to take my medication, tell me what to eat for breakfast, what to start working on, when to take breaks, what chores need to be done and what ingredients I need to pick up from the supermarket. Someone to make some of the decisions for me, take some of the mental burden off my shoulders, or point me in a direction –any direction – when I don’t know where to go.

So, that’s what I’ve attempted to write.

• When you need a hand surviving, turn to Part 1: Rough Waters. It’s a practical survival manual to walk you through those days when you only have the bare minimum to give – complete with strategies, step-by-step guides and tools to help you tackle the most overwhelming parts of daily adult life.
• When you need ideas for thriving, go to Part 2: Full Sails. This section takes the form of a vibrant quest compendium, designed to harness your energy when it starts to overflow – packed with adventures, ideas and instructions to make your little world more ADHD friendly.
• When you feel ready for reflecting, head to Part 3: Deep Diving.Here you’ll find a compassionate guide to navigating the psychological complexities of ADHD life – providing prompts to help you investigate your own mind, tactics for building emotional skills, and scaffolding for constructive conversations with those closest to you.

Tragically, this book can’t do everything an ever-present, decision making fantasy employee can. It can’t tell you what emails you need to reply to first, or remind you when to take the bins out. But hopefully it can help lift the mental load when the world gets too heavy, and give you a place to start when you’re in desperate need of a map.