A Love Letter to the ADHDer Struggling to Get Things Done

For the ADHDer, trying to get things done can feel like swimming in mud —exerting endless effort with nothing to show for it. This is your PSA to pause the doing. You need to hear this.

Photo by Jon Tyson on Unsplash

Today’s post is bit of a longer one — I invite you to sit back (or multitask because…ADHD) and listen to the audio version :

You’ll also find a TL;DR (Too Long, Didn’t Read) summary at the bottom of the post :)

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The Blog Post That Never Was

Two weeks ago, I set out to write a post on my Substack about the all-too-common ADHD struggle of feeling stuck—unable to accomplish goals because doing so requires good time management, effective emotional regulation, follow-through, focus and the ability to resist opportunities for quick dopamine - qualities that make up the core challenges of Attention Deficit Hyperactivity Disorder, or as some professionals have fittingly proposed it be called, "Intention Deficit Disorder"

Having experienced first-hand the slow erosion of self-esteem, self-trust, and hope that can result from this struggle, I’ve been on a mission to figure out how to bridge the gap between me and all that I dream of doing in my life; I set out excited to share with you some of the biggest insights I've learned so far.

But then, my ADHD…ADHD'd.

In my attempt to write said post, my mind — exceptional at generating ideas but limited in its ability to stay focused on any one of them for very long — kept branching off in new directions. One post morphed into twenty partially written drafts, each trailing off mid-thought as my attention darted to the next compelling idea, leaving me with a collection of partially written blog posts and nothing complete enough to publish. Thus began a dopamine-fuelled side quest to find the perfect app to help me with my writing process—only to leave me drowning in free trials and promotional emails, trying to remember which subscriptions I needed to cancel before the charges hit my credit card.

As I sat at my computer, staring at one of my partially finished articles, I started to cry.

I cried for the writer in me who just wanted to share her message but kept getting derailed by her own brain.

I cried for the brilliant and kind friend (also living with an ADHD brain) who had just finished sharing with me how much doubt she had in her own ability to succeed.

I cried for every ADHDer who has ever felt like their brain was actively working against them and for how deeply I wanted to help each one of them but felt, in that moment, completely unable to.

After all, who was I to write about solutions that I myself couldn’t implement? How could I speak about bridging the gap between intention and action when I hadn’t figured it out myself?

Then I remembered—this was never about having it figured out.

I didn’t start my substack to stand at some imaginary finish line shouting instructions and solutions to those still struggling on their journey.

I started my Substack because I wanted to offer back what the Andrea Gibsons, Glennon Doyles, and Liz Gilberts of the world have offered to me: their truth — and with it, the liberating reminder that our suffering is not unique to us.

Far from a finish line, those who have helped me the most have felt more like fellow travellers, walking the same uneven path, weary from the same storms, lighting small fires along the way to offer others a warm place to rest in solidarity.

So today, I offer you no solutions (the internet has no shortage of these).

Instead, I offer you my love, my messy truth, and a warm place to rest your feet on your own journey.

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A love letter to the ADHDer Struggling to Get Things Done

Dear One,

Please pause.

For a moment, please pause from what you're doing.

I know you feel like there's no time to pause because you are chronically behind and perpetually late.

I promise you, you're not.

(I guess as someone with an ADHD brain, there is a good chance you're late for something right now, but what's a few more minutes? I promise you this is worth hearing).

Let’s start by taking a breath and on the exhale, let out a big audible sigh for no other reason than it’s going to feel good.

Go ahead. I'll wait.

Good.

You know that voice in your head that is always calling you names and telling you how lazy or incapable you are? How behind you are? How you really need to get more done?

Maybe you have a name for this part (I have many names for mine, but a favourite is "Chicken Little" because she is always trying to convince me that the sky is falling).

Actual footage of my Chicken Little yesterday

Let's acknowledge the good intentions of your own Chicken Little, and then ask if they would be willing to rest nearby while we have this conversation.

Now, between you and me, I need you to know something: the stories this part is telling you about your worth and capabilities are simply untrue.

I'm not just saying this to make you feel better (although I think it will).

You see, a common mistake we make as humans (especially the ADHD kind) is that we believe our Chicken Littles when they tell us how bad and terrible things are (or we are), which might be acceptable if they were telling us the truth about what's really happening.

But they aren’t.

Science will back me up here. I know you didn't expect a science lesson in the middle of your love letter, but stay with me—this part is important.

Inside your brain there’s something called the Reticular Activating System (RAS) that acts as a filter - deciding which thoughts, memories and ideas get through to your conscious attention. Think of it as a bouncer if your brain were a nightclub.

Just like any bouncer, your RAS prioritizes those it’s familiar with - the “regulars”. The more frequent and recurring a thought is, the easier time it has grabbing your attention because your RAS just waves them right on in. For the ADHD brain, thanks to our strong negativity bias, this creates trouble. The thoughts feeding our Chicken Littles are predominantly the self-critical kind. Our attention gravitates toward negative ideas and evidence, while thoughts or evidence supporting a different narrative are left standing outside in the cold.

Positive evidence of your capability, hard work, and self-trust standing outside in the cold while self-critical thoughts soak up all your attention inside

Let me ask you this: if you ever found yourself on trial, would you trust the jury to make a fair call on your innocence having only heard the persecutor’s side? Likely not.

Yet this is exactly what we do whenever we believe that critical voice in our head telling us about all the ways we are falling short.

The good news is that thanks to neuroplasticity, we can change how this whole system works. But that's work for another day, another post. For now, gently pat your Chicken Little on the head, thank them for their input, and move on with your day.

Key Takeaway #1: The sky is not falling and you are not the worst

Now, speaking of outrageous things we believe to be true, let's talk about rest.

Perhaps you feel like you don't deserve a break—that rest is something to be earned or something that comes when everything that needs to be done is done.

For this, I want to hand things over to the brilliant Tricia Hersey who taught me how toxic and harmful this type of thinking really is in her Manifesto, Rest is Resistance. Tricia writes:

“The Rest Is Resistance framework does not believe in the toxic idea that we are resting to recharge and rejuvenate so we can be prepared to give more output to capitalism. What we have internalized as productivity has been informed by a capitalist, ableist, patriarchal system. Our drive and obsession to always be in a state of “productivity” leads us to the path of exhaustion, guilt, and shame. We falsely believe we are not doing enough and that we must always be guiding our lives toward more labor. The distinction that must be repeated as many times as necessary is this: We are not resting to be productive. We are resting simply because it is our divine right to do so.”

A-fricken-men, Tricia.

Key Takeaway #2: Rest is not something to be earned. Period.

Okay, so now that we’ve established that your inner critic is out to lunch and that you are in fact worthy of rest regardless of what you produced today, let’s talk about overwhelm.

You should be overwhelmed.

I’m going to say that again.

You should be overwhelmed.

Back in 2011, it was reported that the average American was consuming the equivalent of 174 newspapers worth of information every single day. And that was before the explosion of social media. Can you imagine how many newspaper equivalents of information your brain is taking in today with essentially the same brain that our ancestors had when their biggest daily decision was which direction to walk?

If you have ever felt fundamentally broken because the everyday demands of life felt impossible to manage (especially when you saw others handle them seemingly with ease), hear me when I say: overwhelm is not a state reserved only for those juggling the most tasks or producing the most output. It’s a state for anyone receiving more input than their brain can effectively process.

And guess whose brains are receiving the most input and struggling the most to process it all?

ADHD brains.

Your overwhelm is not a sign of inadequacy—it’s your body's perfectly natural response to being a human being living in the year 2025 with an ADHD brain.

Key Takeaway #3: Overwhelm is the appropriate response

The key message is this: The brokenness you are feeling is real but it is not coming from inside you.

What's broken is not your brain but the system it exists in. The problem isn't you - it’s your living in a world designed by and for brains different from your own, a world that expects your brain to function in a way it does not.

But take heart my friend - the world is shifting. Every day, more researchers, doctors, and innovators are developing tools and strategies specifically designed for our unique minds. Communities are forming, voices are rising, and understanding is growing. We aren't just adapting to a neurotypical world anymore - we're helping shape a new one that works for all of us.

Key Takeaway #4: You are not broken and you are not alone

Yes we have an uphill climb.

But we’re climbing it together, with lots of rest breaks. So pull up a log (one for your Chicken Little too), and sit in the quiet solidarity of everyone else reading these words, also walking this path, also taping their blistered feet.

Warm your hands by this fire.

You are not alone, my friend.

With love,

Laura

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TL;DR (Too Long, Didn’t Read):

• Your Inner Critic is Wrong: That voice telling you you're lazy or incapable is working with incomplete information, thanks to our brain's tendency to focus on the negative

• Rest is Your Right: You don't need to "earn" rest - it's your divine right as a human being, not a reward for productivity⁠⁠

• You Should be Overwhelmed: In today's information-saturated world, feeling overwhelmed isn't a personal failure - it's a natural response, especially for ADHD brains

• You're Not Broken: Your struggle isn't because your brain is defective - it's because you're living in a world designed for different types of brains

• Hope Ahead: The world is evolving, with more resources and understanding developing for ADHD minds. We're in this together.