3. I’ll consider your feedback even though you seem to want to present it with as little substance and kindness as possible. I’d also be more impressed if you didn’t cloak that attitude behind anonymity.
If I had to break down my ADHD and symptoms that arise from it, I'd say it's more similar to an addiction to shame; an emotion that I felt as a kid who procrastinated or didn't live up to his potential. It's definitely a habit that can be changed, but I'd say that it's a 3rd dimension that requires a different approach than better systems or willpower. In fact, it's narratives like this that cause many undiagnosed people to burn out or have worse things happen to them.
I don't deny that shame is part of the equation. But it's hard for most people to cultivate self compassion without also trying to improve on the object level problems. Most people need to demonstrate progress to themselves in some way, shape or form. Shame is also accompanied by anxiety and the anxiety is primarily a cue that something is not right, which can be hard to shake away without actually acting on it. Which narrative precisely do you think counterproductive?
Thank you for your thoughtful reply. I agree that progress on “object-level problems” can be motivating and help counteract shame, but I think the narrative that may be counterproductive is the emphasis on ADHD as fundamentally a matter of low conscientiousness or willpower. This framing risks oversimplifying the condition and placing undue weight on personal agency while overlooking the broader interplay of neurobiology, environment, and emotional health.
The issue with this narrative is that it can perpetuate the belief that ADHD is primarily a failure of effort or character, even if unintentionally. For many, this belief fuels cycles of shame and anxiety because it suggests that struggles stem from moral failings or lack of discipline, rather than being rooted in a neurological condition that requires tailored strategies and support. While systems and habits are valuable, they can’t fully address the emotional dimension or the structural barriers many people with ADHD face, such as misaligned work environments or lack of access to accommodations. The book ADHD 2.0 (written by two Harvard MD's who both have ADHD) acknowledges this beautifully.
My concern is that framing ADHD as a problem of low conscientiousness might encourage self-blame and discourage people from seeking the external supports or reframing their internal narratives in ways that allow them to thrive. Encouraging a more nuanced view—one that balances personal agency with understanding the broader context—may lead to better outcomes.
Like the mantra I repeat to my increasingly frustrated partner: my ADHD is not an excuse but it is a reason.
Here are two things that make me, as an ADHD person, more passionate: Food and history.
1. Lack of human connection and loneliness worsens executive function.
2. You need to edit better. Not every single thought passing through your head needs to be written down.
3. I’ll consider your feedback even though you seem to want to present it with as little substance and kindness as possible. I’d also be more impressed if you didn’t cloak that attitude behind anonymity.
If I had to break down my ADHD and symptoms that arise from it, I'd say it's more similar to an addiction to shame; an emotion that I felt as a kid who procrastinated or didn't live up to his potential. It's definitely a habit that can be changed, but I'd say that it's a 3rd dimension that requires a different approach than better systems or willpower. In fact, it's narratives like this that cause many undiagnosed people to burn out or have worse things happen to them.
I don't deny that shame is part of the equation. But it's hard for most people to cultivate self compassion without also trying to improve on the object level problems. Most people need to demonstrate progress to themselves in some way, shape or form. Shame is also accompanied by anxiety and the anxiety is primarily a cue that something is not right, which can be hard to shake away without actually acting on it. Which narrative precisely do you think counterproductive?
Thank you for your thoughtful reply. I agree that progress on “object-level problems” can be motivating and help counteract shame, but I think the narrative that may be counterproductive is the emphasis on ADHD as fundamentally a matter of low conscientiousness or willpower. This framing risks oversimplifying the condition and placing undue weight on personal agency while overlooking the broader interplay of neurobiology, environment, and emotional health.
The issue with this narrative is that it can perpetuate the belief that ADHD is primarily a failure of effort or character, even if unintentionally. For many, this belief fuels cycles of shame and anxiety because it suggests that struggles stem from moral failings or lack of discipline, rather than being rooted in a neurological condition that requires tailored strategies and support. While systems and habits are valuable, they can’t fully address the emotional dimension or the structural barriers many people with ADHD face, such as misaligned work environments or lack of access to accommodations. The book ADHD 2.0 (written by two Harvard MD's who both have ADHD) acknowledges this beautifully.
My concern is that framing ADHD as a problem of low conscientiousness might encourage self-blame and discourage people from seeking the external supports or reframing their internal narratives in ways that allow them to thrive. Encouraging a more nuanced view—one that balances personal agency with understanding the broader context—may lead to better outcomes.
Good article. To Syrian and Palestinian readers: you too have agency. Your habits of playing the childish, irresponsible victim are wearing thin.