My "Chaos"-Brain and Me
Forced into structures I didn't choose, just to function and then left alone to deal with the fallout. Stick with me, this one is going to be a journey...
I suffer from severe executive dysfunction. That means it’s not only difficult for me to get things done — or even to start them — but also to stick with tasks that don’t offer immediate rewards. And it’s a pain in the ass. All I’ve ever known is chaos, instability, and impulsive confrontations with reality.
When I was a teenager, I asked myself a question: Is it me? Am I the chaos?
That question followed me through my entire life, making me overthink every move and decision. I felt like I could only get things wrong. I’d give up anyway. Most likely get hurt, or let others down in the process.
This shaped my core beliefs and wrecked my social life from the get-go. Social isolation can sometimes be nice to have some time alone with my thoughts, but like many probably know all too well after the pandemic, it can also suck really, really bad. And the long-term effects on social life and mental health are no joke.
Chaos ruled my life. Every time I tried to tame it with plans, structures, or self-help advice, things just didn’t work out. After all that effort, I’d always fall into an even more chaotic headspace. On top of that came the labels: lazy, loud, unfocused, “unwilling” to learn or work with a team. All judgments based on actions I often couldn’t control, and never intended. Neither I, nor anyone else knew why it happened. So those “flaws” became part of my identity. Even after the diagnosis, nothing magically got easier. It didn’t heal me or make others less frustrated with my behavior and forgetfulness.
Going down this rabbit hole of what ADHD means, not just in science, but truly for my life, I thought: Will there ever be a moment when I can truly be calm and get things done the way I’m “supposed” to?
Chaos?
It has a clear negative connotation: The absence of order, a whirlpool of disaster, total anarchy — your first instinct is to smash it with a sledgehammer. I’ve swallowed that bitter pill before. It never worked.
Maybe chaos isn’t meant to be tamed. Perhaps tearing everything down isn’t the path to positive change. Rigid routines might work briefly, but chaos always returns, often causing more harm than good.
Every time. All at once.
Let me tell you… it’s been a damn long journey. As I struggled to stay focused and stick to routines I both craved and hated, I felt capable of so much more. Writing about mental health wasn’t the only thing I wanted to put in words. So I created two blogs. Mental health and deep-dive commentary on controversial topics wouldn’t mesh well, so I split them for my readers’ peace and my own control over content. That duality felt good — at least at the beginning — though I couldn’t split my attention as well as I hoped. Yes, I wrote a long, well-researched article on my other blog. But if you’re reading this newsletter, you know I haven’t posted here in a long time.
I beat myself up over it, but then I identified my nemesis yet again: Perfectionism.
I tried playing table tennis while gaming on my phone; holding the paddle in one hand, the phone in the other. That’s what writing my mental health blog and my commentary blog,
, felt like: juggling both at once. I tried scheduling posts, but that failed too. Ideas piled up, and my dopamine crashed as days, weeks, and months passed. Sure, I published here and there, but I spent way more time hunting for sources than actually writing, publishing, and sharing knowledge.I favored the false security of “just one more time and it will work for me for sure, because I have this… or that… thing I did not have before” over accepting, that this would fail again. I aimed for perfection: one post here, one post there, plus marketing. It didn’t work. Blogging takes time and effort for me and I couldn’t do both blogs at the same time. If you’ve mastered this balance, congrats and please share your secrets in the comments! I would love to hear how the dual bloggers here handle this. 😅
The Beauty of Chaos
What’s the alternative? Is my life now just a loop of attempts, failure and repeat? No. There’s a strange beauty in chaos if you can make peace with it. If you have the time and privilege to say, “This happens.” Not as giving up, but as acceptance that life can be more exciting than expected. And I am telling you this as a person who went through a lot of tough times, experienced loss and still struggles with anxiety. However, if you suffer from executive dysfunction in a world not built for neurodivergent minds, you might define “excitement” a bit differently. You don’t have to love chaos. I certainly don’t all the time. I sometimes wish for the blue pill like in The Matrix to make everything “normal” so I don’t have to fight freaking AI bots with mechanical tentacles trying to kill off the last humans who are aware of the AI overlord presence. Yea, some days I rather want my brain to be used as a battery like in the movies to live a comfortable life in the matrix and enjoy blissful ignorance!
But reality isn’t that simple. It can be terrifying if you had dreams and imagined a different life. Whether you’re neurodivergent or not, life doesn’t bend to our will, though. People build plans B, C, D, and E — and you should probably too. Having a safety net in this mess is wise, however not for everyone. If you’re anything like me, you should say goodbye to the idea of ever becoming “normal”. Clear, certain and secure aren’t meant for you. Positive chaos could be your clarity.
I found a certain beauty in this. I’m not who I thought I was, nor who others said I had to become to belong. I had to fight through chaos inside and out, from total isolation to bending the bars of my mind’s prison. I was a victim of my own propaganda: Countless experiences pieced together into a “WANTED” poster of myself that appears every time chaos strikes right after normality failed. It’s a safety mechanism to shield me from harm, but it also blocks progress and keeps me from doing the things I truly and deeply love.
This is my experience, but maybe it resonates with you, or you’re curious how others navigate life with ADHD as a late-diagnosed 30-year-old. It’s easy to dwell on what I’ve missed out on, or the mistakes I made. After all, research shows neurodivergent people often suffer more from perceived criticism and experience more negative feedback than neurotypicals, influenced by gender, upbringing, school, and work. So this isn’t just in your head, if you thought its that way. This doesn’t define you. What you decide defines you.
Am I asking you to embrace full chaos? No.
Am I proposing to you to question how you “should” be and find ways to become yourself in a healthy way? Yes, 100%!
Some Things Are Meant to be Chaotic
You are living your life. Whatever your circumstances or how much freedom you have, be yourself. Easier said than done, of course, and I don’t offer a one-size-fits-all solution here. But let me share a few ways I’ve embraced parts of myself that once were rejected or repressed:
#1 Hyperactivity, Shaking Legs & Busy Hands
I used to force my leg or foot completely still, and pretended my hands didn’t need to fidget with something to be occupied, squeezing my hands until it hurt. This only made it all worse. What helped even less was expecting others to just accept it, or hopefully not notice. Then this happened:
“Did you know your shaking leg could stress out people around you?”
That line from my former psychiatrist stung, especially because the real problem wasn’t my leg, but my discomfort, sitting tense in that office, laying my fears bare. Even without that discomfort my legs shake, or move around a lot — even in a good mood, while writing this post just now. However, instead of forcing that behaviour away when I am around other people, I do the following:
Move on purpose. I let my leg bounce, move my foot around purposefully instead of holding it back.
Carry fidget tools in plain sight. No hiding. If anyone asks, I say, “I need these to focus and really listen.”
Use every bit of space. Whether I’m in line at the bakery, waiting for a bus, or stuck at a red light, I’ll pace a few stops, rise onto my toes up and down, or shift my weight. It isn’t rude — it has become my personal self-care.
Make use of “training grounds”. I treat public and formal spaces as chances to receive feedback and practice how I communicate my behavioural traits. I started small, in low-pressure places, and worked my way up to more intense situations. Far from done training, though. Still lots to learn.
By the way, if you’re looking for some cool fidget tools to keep your hands busy, check out this list:
#2 Losing my Train of Thought
I used to beat myself up, apologising and feeling ashamed for forgetting things or losing my train of thought. Then I gave myself permission to say “fuck it,” and built this little roadmap:
If it’s not essential, move on.
Instead of letting it throw me out of the conversation I move on, and trust that if it really mattered, I will remember it.If it matters, ask for a hint. “I lost my thought, could we revisit the last points together?”
Switch gears or hand back the mic. I switch topics, hand over the lead, ask questions like: “Your thoughts?”
Pause & revisit: “Give me a sec. Let’s pick this up later/ another time.”
Most people—even in formal settings—understand once I explain how my brain works. I also skip small talk or save it for when I have the energy.
My brain acts like a sponge that won’t hold soap unless there’s bubbles to play with. I have all right to stop, breathe and communicate to receive support instead of blaming myself. Maybe that is useful for you too.
#3 I Learned to Take Responsibility for My Mishaps Without Beating Myself Up
I have ADHD and it shapes my behaviours, yes, but it doesn’t mean its out of my control to own up to mistakes done, or apologize for feelings hurt. It’s tough because there is no one size fits all. But a few steps helped me so far, to deal with this in communication with others:
Acknowledge it. “Sorry I cut you off.”
Hand back the floor. “Your turn — please continue.”
Explain briefly. “My brain jumps around — thanks for bearing with me.”
This stops misunderstandings and spares me a shame spiral. It’s not my fault, but my responsibility to find ways to acknowledge others and not accept shame and guilt to define my self worth. It’s scary. Sometimes simple conversations can be very exhausting, that’s why I search for tools to not carry the full load and allow myself to excuse myself from conversations, when I need to recharge or collect my thoughts before continuing.
#4 I learned to take some time for decision making
Growing up, I faced two extremes:
All no’s: I refused everything to avoid overwhelm, only to feel stuck.
All yes’s: I piled on scary projects and burned out.
It’s classic ADHD all-or-nothing thinking. Not knowing when things will be too much, trying to please others or genuinely believing I can manage this, or not taking on projects at all because of past traumatic experiences of failure.
My hack? Buying time.
“Sounds good! When do you need my answer?” or “Is there wiggle room?”
That buffer lets me check my energy, priorities, and whether I actually want to say yes or no.
It’s not perfect. I still stall sometimes. But a little breathing room beats instant overload at least for me more than half the time. But hey, life is a long journey full of learning.
There is no perfect solution, only your personal journey — individually and collectively.
I want to share one last thing I realized for myself, something about my deeply rooted needs and wants:
I’m tired of having to pretend to be neurotypical, and only allowing myself moments to be my neurodivergent, chaotic, but wonderfully unique, creative, and wild self. I want to be myself most of the time, not someone I’m supposed to be.
If you liked this post, please let me know by pressing that heart button. And if you have thoughts to share about it, feel free to comment down below or join my subscriber chat for this blog. It would mean a lot to me.
Do you agree with my views? Did you take anything from this post with you to think about? Learned anything new? Let me know down in the comments!
Stay wild, and diverse — I see you around!
Lots of love and Lídiant Wíalë ❤️
JayJay out! 🎤
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Thanks for reading, commenting and subscribing to my blog
. It’s been a journey and I am very thankful for everyone who joined me on this adventure. I will continue to upload and write new articles. See you around and stay crazy. ^^Special Thanks goes out to my local ADHD group, where I am accepted just the way I am and supported to show more of my chaotic self in an authentic way.
Hi JayJay, I came across your post over on Mika’s call out. Thanks for being your brave self and writing about your ADHD and mental health. Your self care strategies were powerful to read and so helpful to me as I work with children with ADHD.