As my children have grown older, I’ve watched them face struggles that mirror my own experiences from the late ’80s and early ’90s. This led to a depressing realization: despite decades passing, not much has fundamentally changed.
Yes, we understand neurodivergent conditions better now. Yes, we have more tools to help. But the general population’s perception? That hasn’t shifted nearly enough in 40 years.
I’m tired of ADHD symptoms being treated as moral failures. We literally know that ADHD brains are structurally different. The science is clear on this. Our executive function, our reward pathways, our attention regulation systems – they’re wired differently. This isn’t opinion; it’s neuroscience.
My Quiet Storm
I have the inattentive subtype of ADHD. Most of my struggles happen invisibly, inside my mind. Getting diagnosed was what I call “having my hurricane named.” (I’ve always had an intense interest in weather, especially tornadic storms and hurricanes.) I’ve called this internal struggle my quiet storm and my butterfly mind. That point in space I’ve stared at since first grade? My daydream satellite.
People with ADHD navigate life under a cloud of misunderstandings – from teachers, managers, peers, even ourselves. This is especially true for those of us with the inattentive subtype since it’s less outwardly disruptive. It’s far too easy for others to interpret our symptoms as mere forgetfulness, lack of effort, or outright laziness.
Some places are really trying. The special education staff who worked with my children have been universally awesome. Truly some of the best people. But I still see countless people, young and old, dealing with the same situations I faced years ago.
Both Sides Now
As a father to diagnosed children, I can honestly feel empathy for neurotypical people, too. When you don’t understand what’s happening inside our minds, it genuinely looks like we don’t care.
But we do care. Really, we do. Especially when we feel we’ve let someone down, even if we don’t know those people well – or at all. No one is more disappointed with us than ourselves. I’ve been labeled “irresponsible” and “unreliable” many times in my life. I promise it isn’t on purpose. Since the inattentive parts aren’t as visible as physical hyperactivity, we just look passive and uncaring.
But I’m crying inside. And typically, my urge has been to keep that inside. I’m supposed to be a manly-dude-man-guy. While I think that old way of thinking is out of place now, it’s still the society I grew up in, another layer to this cake I’m still working through.
Why I’m Doing Something
This is why I want to try to do something. I’ve never really been good at the doing part, but I’m tired of watching people I love struggle. I’m tired of watching people I feel a direct connection with struggle. I’m tired of struggling myself. And if you’re reading this – maybe you’re tired of the struggle too.
The chronic stress and anxiety about underperforming. The persistent feelings of frustration, shame, or guilt about not managing “adulting” as smoothly as we feel we should. The fear of judgment from those who see disorganization as carelessness or lack of respect – or who think “ADHD” is just an excuse to be lazy.
The trouble of keeping a clean living space. Paying bills late, resulting in unnecessary fees. All of the forgotten appointments or arriving late. The constant drifting off and struggling to keep track of conversations. Forgetting to respond to messages.
Constantly feeling the need to hide just how overwhelmed we feel because we can see other people successfully doing the same things. And with that, the persistent feeling of not living up to our potential, fueling cycles of deep, dark depression.
Breaking the Cycle
And then we blame ourselves for these struggles. You know, the struggles that directly relate to the different way our brains work – something we literally cannot control. Yet we and others blame our willpower, our dedication, or if we truly care. This perpetuates cycles of guilt and shame. And for many of us, we can’t even articulate why we keep dropping the ball.
The systems at our disposal don’t work for most of us. We seem, as a society, desperate to create one-size-fits-all solutions. Schools that require sitting still for hours. Workplaces that value consistent output over creative bursts. Medical appointments scheduled months in advance that we’re somehow supposed to remember. Bills due on arbitrary dates that don’t align with how we process time.
A Space For Us
Do I know what I’m doing? No, not really. Will what I’m doing here help anyone? I don’t know. It may sound cliché, but if all the effort I put into this helps just a single person, I feel it will have been worth it. I want desperately to help, or at least minimize, the pain others might be feeling. Especially the unseen, the unheard, those just beginning this journey of self-discovery, people who have lapsed back into negative spirals of self-doubt and self-criticism.
I’m creating “Butterfly Mind” as a self-advocacy resource – for others and myself – in hopes that we can find a way to carve out a space for ourselves in society. Our butterfly minds deserve to fly.