Inside My ADHD Mind: A Life in Fast Forward

I tell myself today will be different. Today, I will focus. Today, I will stay on top of things. But within minutes, my brain is already off running—chasing thoughts, ideas, distractions I didn’t invite but can’t ignore.

People think ADHD means I can’t sit still, but it’s more than that. My mind is like a TV with someone else holding the remote, flipping through channels before I can catch the plot. I start a task, then suddenly remember something else I need to do. I pick up my phone to set a reminder but somehow end up scrolling through articles about deep-sea creatures. Twenty minutes pass before I even realize I never set the reminder.

Focusing is exhausting. It’s not that I don’t want to pay attention—I do. But my brain doesn’t filter things the way other people’s do. Everything feels urgent, loud, distracting. The tapping of a pen, the hum of a light, a conversation happening across the room—all competing for space in my head. And when I do manage to focus, I fall into a hyperfixation so deep I forget to eat, drink, or use the bathroom. There’s no in-between.

Then there’s organizing. My desk, my calendar, my thoughts—they’re all a mess, no matter how hard I try. I make lists but forget to check them. I set alarms but snooze them into oblivion. People say, “Just be more organized,” as if I haven’t spent years trying. I know what I need to do—I just can’t seem to do it consistently.

Impulse control? That’s another battle. I speak before thinking, interrupt when I don’t mean to, spend money on things I don’t need, start projects I’ll never finish. It’s not because I don’t care—it’s because my brain moves faster than my ability to hit the brakes.

And then there’s how people see me. Lazy. Careless. Irresponsible. Forgetful. They don’t see how hard I’m trying. They don’t see the lists, the timers, the self-lectures, the constant effort to “just be better.” They don’t see how frustrating it is to disappoint people when I forget something important—not because I don’t care, but because my brain didn’t hold onto it the way I needed it to.

I am not lazy. I am not careless. I am not irresponsible. I just have a brain that works differently. Some days, I embrace it—the creativity, the bursts of passion, the way my mind connects things in unexpected ways. Other days, I feel like I’m fighting myself just to get through.

But this is me. This is ADHD. And I’m doing the best I can.