TL;DR: ADHD isn’t really about not paying attention. It’s about regulating when and how we pay attention, how we manage emotions, and how we notice what’s happening inside our bodies. Forgetting meds, skipping meals, or feeling overwhelmed aren’t failures, they’re signals. Instead of shame, think of these moments like a GPS that simply says “rerouting.”
The official name Attention Deficit Hyperactivity Disorder feels like calling your cat “Goldfish.” Sure, it’s a label, but does it actually describe what’s happening? Most of us with ADHD don’t lack attention at all. We can lock onto a hobby or project like it’s a NASA launch sequence. The challenge is regulating where attention goes, how long it stays there, and how emotions and body signals fit into the mix.
Recently I forgot to fill my pill container, which meant I missed a dose. In the past, I would have spiraled into shame: “I can’t even keep track of my meds!” But now I see it differently. That moment was a signal, not proof that I was failing. It was like a blinking fuel light in a car. The light doesn’t mean the car is broken, it means the car needs gas.
Back in 2015, a therapist gave me two simple questions that still ground me today:
How do I feel?
What do I need?
At first, I had no idea how to answer. It felt like asking a goldfish to solve algebra. But with practice, those questions became game-changing check-ins, like pressing pause on chaos and scanning my internal dashboard.
Interoception is our sense of what’s happening inside the body. For people with ADHD, that sense is often inconsistent. Sometimes the signal is strong, other times it drops out entirely.
That’s why you might forget to eat until you’re cranky, or miss the moment when you are tipping into overwhelm. It’s not laziness or carelessness. It’s patchy reception. And just like with Wi-Fi, getting mad at yourself for bad service doesn’t actually fix the router.
If this sounds familiar, you are not alone. Many of us are learning to notice these signals later than we’d like. That’s okay. Awareness, even delayed, is progress.
Here’s where things often go wrong. When we forget, or slip up, shame sneaks in and takes over. It says:
“I can’t believe I forgot again.”
“Other people don’t struggle with this.”
But shame is like downloading a virus instead of the update you needed. It slows your system and makes it harder to function. Forgetting or missing a signal isn’t proof of failure. It’s information.
What if we treated these moments as data? Instead of saying, “I messed up,” we could say:
“This is feedback.”
“My brain is giving me a status report.”
“I don’t need punishment, I need compassion.”
That’s the shift from shame into signal, and it changes everything.
Think of these as external battery packs for your nervous system:
Mindfulness and body scans: quick system checks like “Am I tired? Hungry? Buzzing with energy?”
Journaling: your own evolving user manual.
Reminders and timers: external storage for your memory.
Digital tools: therapeutic apps or trackers that act like little co-pilots.
And here’s the reminder that matters most: some is better than none. A five-second check-in is still a check-in. One journal entry this month still counts. Even a “failed” reminder teaches you something.
Research is catching up. Therapies that mix mindfulness with CBT, music-infused practices, and real-time apps are all being studied. But the biggest shift might not be in the science. It might be in how we speak to ourselves.
Because here’s the truth: we are not broken devices. We are running a different operating system. And like any good OS, we run better when we understand our quirks, use the right tools, and skip the shame updates.
The next time you feel scattered, overwhelmed, or staring at an unfilled pill box, pause and ask yourself:
How do I feel?
What do I need?
Not as judgment. Not as proof of failure. But as a reminder that your brain and body are sending signals.
Your humanity is not measured by perfection. It’s measured by how you respond to your signals, one choice at a time.
🤍 Heather
Updated: 8-7-25