Emotions & Shame

ADHD Is Not My Fault — But It Still Makes Me Feel Like a Failure

“I’m so stupid, I’m so dumb,” I tell myself far too often. When I feel like an idiot because of an ADHD screw-up, it’s important to remind myself to knock off the negative self-talk.

A dunce cap in a classroom represents the shame many children with ADHD feel over being called stupid.
A dunce cap in a classroom represents the shame many children with ADHD feel over being called stupid.

I left my brand-new ATM card in the machine while I was activating it. It just happened. I didn’t realize it until I told my husband I activated the card. Then I morphed into total freakout mode, ransacked my purse, ransacked the car, and burst into tears at what an idiot I was.

“It’s just a mistake,” he said. “The ATM will eat the card.” I cried for a half hour, and, based on my ranting, my seven-year-old drew me a card that read: “Mama, your are not an ideot.”

The next morning, while stopped at a red light, I found my ATM card turned upside down under three pairs of sunglasses on the center console of my car. I’d looked there at least twice. I would have cried again if I weren’t so grateful.

[Free Download: 15 Ways to Disarm (and Understand) Explosive ADHD Emotions]

ADHD and Emotions

They’re upsetting, incidents like these. No matter how often people remind you that ADHD is a disorder, that it’s not your fault, ADHD affects every aspect of your life — and every one of your emotions. You lose things, you forget things, and you feel guilty. If you can’t read contempt on other people’s faces, you imagine it. You are the “wifty” one, the flighty one, the one who can’t be trusted to arrive on time. Your impulsivity and awkwardness make it difficult to interact with others, and your social skills are like those of a middle-schooler. It’s hard. Yet this is the reality we women with ADHD live with every day, especially those of us with the inattentive variety of the disorder.

I felt guilty again this week, when I forgot an important appointment. I want to adopt, and to do that, I need a physical. To get a physical, I need a TB test. I felt so proud: I got to the doc’s on time; I remembered my paperwork. All that remained: Return in 48-72 hours to have a nurse look at my arm. But days passed, the TB test drifted out of my mind, and I had other things to do. I woke bolt-upright from a nap at 6 p.m., weeping, because I couldn’t manage the basic skills of “adulting.”

Dissing Myself

The spiral of negative self-talk began, the kind that had my seven-year-old drawing me pictures. This is usual with women with ADHD, especially those diagnosed late. We’ve spent a lifetime being berated: about our disorganization, our lack of common sense, our in-and-out memory. We’ve been berated so often, in fact, that we’ve internalized it. We don’t need a parent or teacher to tell us any more; their words have become our own. I’m so stupid, I thought. I’m so dumb. Why can’t I be more organized? Why can’t I remember things like everyone else? The knowledge that I suffer from a neurological condition doesn’t help. Society has expectations for adult women, and often, I don’t fulfill them.

[Step Up to the Plate: Finding Success With ADHD]

Those expectations extend into the social realm as well. People expect adult women to act a certain way. When you say you’re going to a friend’s poetry reading, they expect you to be there. But you have an anxiety attack, because you can’t figure out how to fit it into your day, and you stay home. You are missed, and no one understands why you didn’t make it. You’re a flake. Your word can’t be trusted. You know your friends are thinking this, and yet you couldn’t get to that reading. The negative self-talk starts again.

I’m Not Rude — Really!

ADHD also creates trouble with face-to-face interaction. I often seem rude, because I play on my phone while another person talks. I’m listening, but I look like a rude Millennial. Sometimes I get so excited about something that I have to voice it, no matter what’s going on in the conversation, or whose turn it is to talk. I seem rude again — as if I’m not paying attention to the other person’s contribution, as if I don’t care what they have to say. I do. I just have to talk about what I have to talk about, and I have to do it now. Right. Freaking. Now. Later, I realize what I’ve done; I feel rude and stupid. I worry that the other person won’t want to be friends with me. Sadly, sometimes I’m right.

It’s difficult to be an adult woman whose brain, by its very nature, doesn’t want to “adult.” Of course, medication helps. But when you can’t meet the basic expectations of adulthood, it’s hard to respect yourself, let alone earn respect from others. The best we can do is to stop the negative self-talk, realize that we have a neurological condition, and forgive ourselves for its manifestations. After all, none of this is our fault.

[The Fear of Failure Is Real — and Profound]

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  1. Thank you for sharing- it feels relieving to know that I am not the only one with this struggle…
    I am blessed that my Husband gets it. Others don’t get it – ADHD.
    Keep your head up and remember that you are you for a purpose.

  2. You couldn’t of explained it any better! The blurting out right in the middle of someone else talking, looking at my phone but I’m still totally listening, the spiral of negative thoughts starting with the “I’m so stupid” thoughts, and not being able to read peoples faces ( a big problem for me). Thanks for making me feel like I’m not alone.

  3. This SO resonated with me, even as a 50-yr old male. While there certainly must be nuanced manifestations for both men and women, I think the general tone of this impacts most of us with ADHD. And BTW – I beat myself up (again!) just before posting, as I had 4 failed logins before I remembered my password here! 🙂

  4. D@mned good writing, Lady!! You PERFECTLY captured & disseminated the very essence & (mal)functions of my life since I could remember being cut down & berated for my ADHD mistakes or screw-ups as a small child, even tho back then such children were “Special”, “Troubled/Problemed Child”, “Hyperactive” or just plain lazy & disobedient & unwanted in social circles (didn’t learn what that was until I was in my 30’s…sadly) AS a Male, when we do things like that, we’re considered less than “Real Men”. Yeah, Thx American Society! WHile it’s good to know that I’m not alone in this, in my family life growing up, in my marriage, School & work, I AM ALONE! If another ADHD, Male of Female is around me, they seem to be too busy to connect (and I certainly can’t do that with Females; not good for marriage I found out..) So, it does my heart good to read how others cope or have loving support… Guess I can dream & hope..

  5. OMG, this is so true. My mask has helped me immensely to hide my ADD. Unfortunately, it has become such a part of me that I don’t really know the true me. And I’m now in my mid-50s, recently diagnosed. What a wasted life of being a fraud.

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