28/10/2025
AuDHD is Horrific
AuDHD — the combination of ADHD and Autism — isn’t just a label.
It’s a lifelong tightrope walk between chaos and exhaustion, between feeling too much and nothing at all.
People don’t understand what it really feels like to live inside an AuDHD brain.
They think it’s just being quirky, distracted, or socially awkward.
But they don’t see the daily war — between your ADHD pushing you to go faster, louder, bigger…
and your autism begging you to slow down, shut out the world, and breathe.
It’s like having one foot on the gas pedal and one on the brake — all the time.
You’re either overstimulated, under-stimulated, or both at once.
Your mind races with a thousand ideas but your body freezes.
You crave connection yet get drained by the smallest interaction.
You want structure but your ADHD rebels against routine.
You want freedom but your autism needs predictability.
It’s not just confusing — it’s exhausting.
You wake up already overwhelmed.
The world feels too loud, too bright, too demanding.
The sounds, the textures, the expectations — everything presses on you at once.
And while your ADHD wants to start ten things, your autism panics because nothing feels “right” or “safe.”
You try to mask it — force yourself to appear “normal.”
You smile when you want to cry, you pretend to listen when your mind is spinning, you say “I’m fine” when you’re not even close.
And that masking… it costs everything.
It drains your energy, numbs your emotions, and chips away at your sense of self until you can’t remember who you are beneath the performance.
People don’t see the aftermath of surviving a day like that.
They don’t see you collapse in silence afterward — unable to talk, think, or move.
They don’t see the shutdowns, the meltdowns, the guilt that follows.
They don’t hear the internal voice that whispers, “Why can’t I just be normal?”
AuDHD is horrific because it’s constant contradiction.
Your ADHD says, “Let’s go have fun, explore, take risks!”
Your autism says, “Please stop. This is too much.”
Your ADHD says, “Try something new!”
Your autism says, “No, it’s not safe.”
And you end up stuck in the middle — doing nothing — and hating yourself for it.
It’s horrific because no matter how hard you try, you rarely feel like you belong anywhere.
You’re “too much” for neurotypicals.
You’re “too scattered” for other autistic people.
You’re “too sensitive” for the world, but “too chaotic” to rest.
You spend your life searching for a space that doesn’t exist — a world built for your brain, your rhythm, your energy — but it’s nowhere to be found.
Even simple things are hard.
Starting tasks feels impossible.
Finishing them feels even worse.
You forget appointments, miss messages, lose focus mid-sentence — and then spend hours overthinking what you said, how you acted, or whether someone’s mad at you.
You crave validation but fear attention.
You want love but struggle with closeness.
You want calm but get bored.
You want excitement but get overwhelmed.
And through all of it, people still say —
“Everyone’s a little ADHD.”
“Everyone’s a bit autistic.”
As if that invalidates the chaos you wake up to every day.
AuDHD isn’t just about quirks — it’s about survival.
It’s trying to function in a world that demands consistency from a brain built for extremes.
It’s trying to find peace when your mind won’t stop running and your senses won’t stop screaming.
It’s trying to exist in a body that never feels at home — too restless to rest, too tired to move.
But you keep going.
You keep showing up.
Even when your brain betrays you, even when your emotions crash without warning, even when you feel like a ghost moving through noise and confusion — you keep going.
That’s the part people never see.
They don’t see the strength it takes to live with AuDHD.
The courage it takes to face a world that constantly misunderstands you.
The resilience it takes to rebuild yourself after every burnout, every shutdown, every disappointment.
So yes — AuDHD is horrific.
But it’s also powerful.
Because in all that chaos, there’s brilliance.
In all that contradiction, there’s creativity.
And in all that struggle, there’s survival.
You might never fit perfectly into this world — but that doesn’t mean you’re broken.
You are complex. You are layered. You are different — and that difference is not a flaw.
If no one told you today:
You are doing incredible things with a brain that makes every day a battle.
You are not lazy. You are not too much. You are not alone.
You are surviving something most people will never understand.
💛 AuDHD is horrific — and you’re still here. That’s not weakness. That’s strength.
