Why I’m Sharing This
I’m opening up about my neurodivergent journey for a rather simple reason: to build bridges of understanding. By sharing the unvarnished reality of living with co-occurring ADHD and Dyspraxia, I hope to gently challenge those well-meaning but rather oversimplified notions that seem to dominate social media feeds these days. My aim is to create both awareness and a bit of lightness around neurodiversity, while helping others see beyond the clichés and endless TikTok diagnosis videos. Because goodness knows, if I have to watch another “You might have ADHD if…” video featuring someone staring at an unfolded pile of laundry, I may just lose the plot entirely. Laundry has never been my issue 😉
In conversations about neurodivergence…
In conversations about neurodivergence, my experience with co-occurring ADHD with Dyspraxia challenges mainstream ideas about these conditions. Popular understanding is often limited by stereotypes that miss how these conditions show up in real life for me and many others. My own experience reveals the diversity within the neurodivergent community and shows why we need to think beyond conventional definitions.
My neurodivergence includes characteristics that highlight the complexity of these experiences:
- Heightened social sensitivity instead of social blindness: I notice subtle expressions, tone shifts, and interpersonal dynamics that others miss. Yes, rather inconveniently, I can tell when someone is fibbing about pretty much anything – and I cannot fib for toffee either (my face speaks even when I don’t).
- Effective multitasking abilities that help me manage multiple streams of information at once. Though I must confess, this doesn’t extend to remembering where I put my keys whilst simultaneously wondering if I’ve left the oven on.
- Multiple deep interests in people (inter and intrapersonal), animals (in particular dogs), arts, words, and music (rather than a single restricted focus). My dog has learned to tolerate my lengthy discourses on everything from Nirvana to deep behavioural psychology. And I can definitely read her boredom at times.
- Pattern recognition that works across both social and intellectual contexts, sparking creative thinking. This is brilliant for problem-solving but does mean I sometimes connect dots that others don’t see, leading to those blank stares that suggest I’ve grown a second head. I am very used to that reaction.
The Problem with Oversimplification
Social media has brought neurodiversity into public awareness, which is positive. However, memes and simplistic definitions have created a distorted picture of ADHD and other neurodivergences (dyslexia, dyscalculia, dyspraxia, and certain manifestations of C/PTSD). These representations reduce complex neurological differences to a handful of stereotypical traits that miss the true depth of neurodivergent experiences.
When we oversimplify these conditions, we create real problems:
- People whose experiences don’t match these simplified versions may go undiagnosed
- Those with valid diagnoses but atypical presentations may doubt themselves
- Stereotypes get reinforced rather than challenged
- Complex conditions get reduced to quirky traits, minimising real struggles
- False either/or thinking emerges when reality is far more nuanced
Balancing Strengths with Challenges
While my profile includes significant strengths, there are real costs that come with these neurological differences:
The Hidden Energy Cost: My social sensitivity lets me perceive subtle dynamics but requires tremendous mental energy. Regular social interactions that others take for granted can leave me depleted and sometimes trigger migraines that can take days to fully resolve, so impacting effective neurological function. Think of it as having a powerful but thirsty engine – strong performance, limited mileage.
The Multitasking Reality: While I can effectively juggle multiple streams of information, maintaining this ability requires sophisticated internal systems and considerable effort that isn’t visible to others. I can do it for periods of time, then I am completed depleted and need recovery time, usually just me and my dog, in a quiet and subtly lit room. My internal operating system is rather like a laptop running far too many programmes at once – impressive when it works, prone to the occasional spectacular crash.
Emotional Intensity and Shutdowns: I sometimes experience emotions more vividly than others, which enhances my creativity but can lead to emotional overwhelm. When sensory input, social demands, and emotional intensity become too much, I experience shutdowns where my typical capabilities temporarily diminish. Again, cue that room! It’s a bit like being a kettle that’s been left to boil too long – eventually, the automatic switch-off kicks in for safety’s sake.
When I’m well-rested, I can navigate social demands with apparent ease. But when tired, these carefully built adaptations begin to fail. I tend to speak and act too fast for myself, trip on my words, become clumsy and accident-prone. This triggers intense self-criticism, creating a negative spiral that further depletes my limited resources, and I want to run for cover. I am working on getting better at communicating to those in my circle that these are warning signs and when they present, I need reminding (strongly!) that I have to stop and rest.
These challenges point to specific supports that can make a meaningful difference:
Recovery Time and Space: Having dedicated periods to recover after demanding activities isn’t optional, it’s necessary maintenance for my neurological system, as essential as insulin is to someone with diabetes.
Environment Adaptations: Simple modifications to lighting, sound, and spatial arrangements can dramatically reduce my cognitive load and sensory strain. My ideal working environment falls somewhere between “cosy library” and a gentle evening at the proms – without the rest of the audience.
Recognition Without Stereotyping: I need support that acknowledges my unique profile without forcing me into stereotypical boxes. Because contrary to popular belief, I can both maintain eye contact and be autistic – I know! It’s more common than you might think.
Understanding diverse neurodivergent presentations isn’t just about accuracy, it’s about embracing the full spectrum of human cognitive styles. When we expand our understanding to include profiles like mine, we take an important step toward truly honouring neurodivergent experiences in all their complexity.
It’s crucial to understand that these neurological differences don’t diminish professional capabilities. With the right environment and practices in place, neurodivergent individuals often demonstrate exceptional dedication, creativity, and consistency. Our unique neurological wiring often translates to valuable professional attributes: attention to detail, creative problem-solving, genuine empathy, and seeing connections others might miss.
My hope is that by sharing these experiences, we can move toward a world where neurodivergent individuals aren’t forced to either deny their challenges or minimise their capabilities. This isn’t just about accommodating differences, it’s about truly valuing the unique perspectives and contributions that come from diverse neurological experiences.
Want to Learn More?
If you’ve found this perspective helpful and would like to bring this deeper understanding of neurodiversity to your organisation, my colleague, Rebecca Howard, and I offer neurodiversity awareness training designed to help teams appreciate and harness the unique strengths of neurodivergent thinking. We’ve helped companies move beyond the stereotypes to create environments where diverse cognitive styles can truly flourish – no tick-box exercises here, just practical insights and real-world strategies.
Drop a comment below if you’re interested in learning more, and we’ll be in touch. Together, we can create workplaces where everyone’s brains – quirky or otherwise – can do their best work.
