The issue with living with AuDHD is that you are constantly at war with yourself. It is like the Gemini trope of simultaneously wanting to be a career woman and a homemaker, a social butterfly and a recluse, a New York apartment girl, and a country hobby farmer.
For a long time, I thought I was broken.
I would make systems, and never stick to them.
I would thrive with structure and routine, but never felt more alive than I did when I was travelling unprepared.
I would crave meaningful connections, and yet be unable to make them.
I would need complete and total silence to study, but I would blast my radio as loud as possible on a drive home from work.
I would need the music at the restaurant to be turned down to focus on my conversation, but I’d play a TV show whilst I cooked, because I would be bored cooking in quiet.
These are just some of the reasons why living with AuDHD feels like constant conflict.
I have been called hypocritical, inconsistent, ‘just making things up’, told my actions were ‘only when it suits you’, named flippant, needy, high maintenance and moody.
What I realise now is that I am simply running two entirely different programs at the same time.
Living with AuDHD: Two Operating Systems, One Screen
Ever tried to send a file from a Mac to a PC? Tried plugging in an external hard drive, only to get the error code because it is formatted for the other operating system?
Having AuDHD is like running a Mac and a PC simultaneously; they don’t work together, they don’t cancel each other out. They simply compete, and switch, and race, and change, and inevitably flash those error codes across the screen.
How Living with AuDHD Shapes Identity
I identify far more with my autism than my ADHD for a few reasons.
- The difficulties I experience with autism are more prevalent
- The social narrative is that autism is bad, and ADHD is just annoying
- My ADHD symptoms are often what make me happy, whilst my autistic ones are what make me sad
Did you know if you type into Google, ‘when did we find out AuDHD was a thing?’ it autocorrects to ADHD?
Prior to 2013, these conditions were what you called ‘mutually exclusive’, meaning that if you had one, you could not have the other. In 2012, there was a journal published that explained that the DSM-IV TR and ICD-10, which are all just fancy acronyms for the checklist required to be identified with a condition, needed to be changed to allow for those who experienced co-morbidity (having both).
In the world of medicine, where things move very slowly, just ten years ago (aged 20), I was being told by doctors to have a baby to cure my endometriosis, despite that being a barbarically outdated and incorrect cure; no wonder there is still not a lot of information on this particular brand of neurodiversity.
What Living with AuDHD Really Feels Like
Living with AuDHD is like battling two fully grown, highly capable brains. It is not two halves, it is not two sides of the same coin, it is two brains, two coins, two people fighting for dominance, all shoved in your one skull.
We need routine and novelty, stimulation and quiet, friends and peace.
Our autistic mind wants to process emotions systematically, whilst our ADHD brain brings everything up all at once.
We experience meltdowns and hyperactivity, sometimes at the same time, presenting as complete paralysis where our body does nothing, whilst our mind runs rampant.
But most especially, living with AuDHD means we often have to hide part of ourselves, either Autism or ADHD, wherever we are.
I know that when I am at work, autism serves me better, whilst when I am with my friends, ADHD makes me the life of the party. Unfortunately, because living with AuDHD means that although I have both, I often can’t satisfy both at the same time, when I get home, my autism is exhausted from the social interaction, so I sit on the couch comatose and unable to answer texts.
Living with AuDHD is the constant battle between desiring one thing and needing another, no matter which one you choose or which you desire. It feels like a permanent state of dissatisfaction, mostly within yourself.
Friendship & Community When You’re Living with AuDHD
I am sad. I have no close community, because I want people who really get me. So my AuDHD brain plans a wonderful party, I create schedules and menus and a full theme, and the novelty sparks my ADHD mind as I hyper-focus on it for weeks.
Then the party comes, and people are worn out from their busy week; they didn’t put the effort into dressing up, and I am disappointed. My face hurts from using facial expressions from memory, from thought, not from natural reactions, as I try to hide my disillusionment.
Someone brought their kid who is banging insistently on the table, and I am worried I am about to yell at someone else’s child. All whilst I cannot work out if the background music is too loud or too soft, and keep telling Alexa to change the volume.
Finally, everyone leaves. And I cry to my husband because all I want is meaningful connections, and every time I try, I end up shattered, still isolated, still unseen.
What People Living with AuDHD Need
We need our hardships to be acknowledged.
We can absolutely become more adaptable, more flexible, more structured, more, more, more. But what we really need is to be able to simply be more of who we are.
The harder we have to try to conform and fit in, the more exhausted we become, and the less our light, skills, and strengths can shine.
I am not saying we can’t grow and learn, but I am saying that it would be nice to be supported in the ways we struggle, so that we can be more of our incredible selves.
Stop saying to your friend ‘Don’t be late’ and start saying ‘Do you want me to text you a countdown so you leave on time?’. This isn’t doing the work for us; this isn’t accommodating for our inadequacies. It is simply being kind. Just as you would ensure the restaurant you went to with your friend in a wheelchair had ramp access. Extend that kindness to your neurodiverse friends.
And remember, living with AuDHD can be hard. Our neurodiversity is a challenge, but it is also an incredible way of being.
It is okay to feel at war with yourself if you experience both autism and ADHD, but being AuDHD can be a beautiful thing if we can manage the ways in which it is also a challenge.
Two Brains are a Blessing
It is a struggle managing what feels like two versions of yourself, but think of it this way: Most people have a 100% to work with; you have 200%. Yes, you can only use 100% at a time.
But think about it like a house. Most people only have one house they live their life from. That means one set of cleaning, one set of maintenance, and the simplicity, ease, and security of a single home.
You have two homes, that’s two gardens to maintain, two priorities to manage, that is, time divided between each, that is the mental load of deciding where you spend the weekend.
But realistically, even though it is more work, and you can only live in one house at a time, think about how much you can achieve or simply be by having two houses to work from.
Living with AuDHD is no small feat, but that doesn’t mean we can’t. We are such incredible people, different, but incredible. Yes, we find much of life more challenging than others, but that is what makes us the disruptors, the inventors, the entrepreneurs, the valued employees who are honest with their boss, the system changers, the outside-of-the-box thinkers. We simply need to be valued for who we are, and give ourselves some slack on what we aren’t.
For more information on AuDHD, check out my next article on how this particular brand of neurodiversity is often misunderstood. Or, to manage your social battery as an autistic woman, check this out.