Recently, I had a heartfelt conversation with a family member who expressed feeling hurt by my actions—or lack thereof—during our interactions. She mentioned that I often forget to say goodbye when leaving and, at times, I don’t greet her when we meet. This revelation struck a chord with me, as I’ve always thought of myself as a warm and welcoming person. However, I now realise that my ADHD brain can sometimes create barriers to connection, particularly during transitions.
As a mother with ADHD, I navigate a world filled with multiple responsibilities and the added challenge of raising neurodiverse children. Each day, my mind is a whirlwind of thoughts, tasks, and worries, making it difficult to focus on the present moment. So, when I leave a gathering or encounter a family member, my mind is often racing ahead, already planning the next steps of my day.
For those who may not understand ADHD, it can be difficult to grasp how the brain operates differently. ADHD can cause a person to feel overwhelmed by the mental load of daily life. This condition often leads to what some refer to as “time blindness,” where I might not fully register the importance of saying goodbye or acknowledging someone in the moment because my thoughts are already in the future. I become so engrossed in the logistics of what needs to happen next—who needs to be fed, what tasks are still pending, and how to manage the unique needs of each of my children—that I unintentionally overlook the social niceties that keep our relationships strong.
I want to emphasise that I have never meant to come across as rude or dismissive. It’s not a reflection of my feelings toward my family; rather, it’s a manifestation of my ADHD and the mental load I carry as a mother. Each transition—whether it's leaving a family gathering or arriving at one—can feel like a juggling act where I’m trying to balance my thoughts and responsibilities.
When I don’t say goodbye, it’s because I’ve already mentally left the room, my mind spinning with a thousand thoughts. I am often preoccupied with ensuring my children are comfortable, happy, and taken care of, and in those moments, I lose sight of the importance of connection. I’ve come to understand that these small gestures, like saying hello or goodbye, are essential to maintaining relationships and showing that I value those around me.
This conversation has opened my eyes to the impact my actions—or inactions—can have on others. It has encouraged me to be more mindful of my interactions, especially during transitions. I’m learning to pause and ground myself in the present, reminding myself that those brief moments of connection matter immensely.
For anyone navigating similar experiences, I encourage you to communicate openly with your loved ones about the challenges of living with ADHD and the complexities of managing a busy household. Sharing our struggles can foster understanding and compassion, bridging the gap that our neurodiverse brains sometimes create.
In conclusion, while I may not always express my feelings in the way I intend, my love for my family is unwavering. I am committed to improving my communication and being more present in our interactions. Understanding the ADHD mind has been a journey, but it’s one that I hope will lead to deeper connections and richer relationships with those I hold dear. Thank you for your patience and love as I navigate this path of self-improvement.
Thank you for listening to my Sunday morning thoughts, I hope it helps others to reach out to family and friends, so they too can understand you a little more.
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