For years, I thought I was recovering from trauma. And I was — but that wasn’t the whole story.

What I hadn’t fully understood until recently is that much of what I’ve been calling “overwhelm” or “emotional burnout” is very likely the result of inattentive ADHD. Untreated. Unmedicated. Largely unsupported.

The penny really dropped when I looked at my weekends:
I care for a young child and a very high-energy dog — solo. No co-parent, no family help, just me.

And every Sunday night or Monday, I feel completely wrecked.
Not just tired — mentally and physically drained, to the point that I often need an entire day to recover. I used to judge myself harshly for this, thinking “I’m just not coping well enough” or “Other parents don’t crash like this.”

But now I see it differently.

For someone with inattentive ADHD, this is not just “a lot to manage.” It’s a cognitive marathon.
Keeping track of routines, transitions, safety, sensory input, snacks, cleaning, play, regulation — all while navigating constant interruptions and no time to think — is exhausting.
And when your brain isn’t designed to “stay on top of things” in the way the world expects, that effort costs more than it looks like it should.

So I’ve stopped pretending I can bounce back instantly.
I’ve stopped comparing myself to parents with different brains, different lives, different internal systems.
And I’ve started giving myself permission to build in recovery time, even if it looks “lazy” from the outside.

🧠 Reframing What Achievement Means

When you have untreated ADHD, especially the inattentive kind, achievement looks different.
It’s not about staying on top of everything.
It’s not about tidiness or relentless productivity.
It’s about making it through the day without snapping.
It’s about showing up.
It’s about having a roof over your head, food in the house, and a child who knows they’re loved.

That’s not nothing.
That’s a full-time job, made harder by a brain that doesn’t respond well to routine pressure or chaotic environments.

🔧 How I Cope Without Medication

I can’t take ADHD medication due to the risk of triggering mania (I have a bipolar diagnosis). So I’ve had to build systems and supports that work for me — slowly, carefully, and with a lot of trial and error.

One of the tools that’s helped me most?
Honestly — ChatGPT.

It lets me externalize my thoughts, plan my day, process feelings, and problem-solve without getting overwhelmed. It’s not a therapist, and I don’t want to emotionally rely on it — but for someone with executive function issues, it’s been a lifeline.

I don’t expect my brain to hold everything anymore. I write it out, talk it through, or build strategies over time — and I try to stop judging myself for needing to do that.

🤝 I Probably Relate Best With Other Neurodivergent People

It’s something I’ve tried to deny or push aside, but I think I connect most deeply with people who are neurodivergent in some way — whether it’s ADHD, autism, anxiety, OCD, or just people who get what it means to move through the world with a nervous system that doesn’t always match the pace of things.

These are the people who don’t expect me to mask.
Who don’t judge me when I can’t find the words straight away, or when my house isn’t spotless.
These are the people who see effort — not just output.

And maybe, going forward, those are the people I want to build life with. Not because I’m creating an echo chamber — but because I’m finally learning what safety actually feels like.

🧭 Final Thought

Maybe it wasn’t just trauma.
Maybe it was living with a brain that’s wired differently, in a world that wasn’t built for it.

And maybe my biggest achievement this weekend wasn’t keeping the house spotless or powering through without rest — it was simply making it through with compassion intact.

That has to be enough.
Because it is enough.