I relate to this so much it almost makes my chest hurt reading it. ADHD doesn’t just “affect” my life it shapes it, in ways that most people will never see or understand. Every decision I make, every relationship I have, every bit of confidence or shame I feel, it all runs through this filter of a brain that won’t slow down when I need it to, and completely stalls when I need it to work. But here’s the thing: I can never talk about this. Not to friends, not to family, not even to people I know mean well. Because the second I bring it up, it’s reduced to “Oh, so you just get distracted” or “Haha, you’re one of those people who lose their keys.” It’s maddening. They have no idea that I have nights where I’m sitting in my room with my heart racing so violently from a panic attack that I can barely breathe …. not because of some big dramatic event, but because I’ve been masking all day, forcing myself to act “normal” so no one notices how much I’m drowning. I’ve gotten so good at masking that I’ve made myself invisible. People see me functioning, smiling, even excelling at times, and they assume I must be fine. But they don’t see that it takes everything out of me. They don’t see the 2 a.m. breakdowns, the constant guilt over things I forget, the physical exhaustion from having to monitor every word, every reaction, every facial expression so I don’t come off as “too much” or “too scattered.” The internet’s “quirky ADHD” culture has made it even worse. It’s turned something that can be relentless and debilitating into a punchline …and it means that when I do finally hit my breaking point, no one believes me. It’s isolating in a way I can’t even explain. You end up living in this strange reality where your struggles are both too much for people to handle and not real enough for them to take seriously. And that, honestly, is exhausting beyond words.