Why the ADHD Brain Is Overwhelmed (But Brilliant)
- Casie Johnson-Taylor, LMFT

- Aug 9, 2025
- 4 min read
Let’s start with the obvious: life with ADHD is a lot. Not just metaphorically. Literally. Our brains are like an internet browser—with 500 tabs open at once—while someone asks us to “just focus.”
Here’s the thing most people don’t get: people with ADHD don’t have a deficit of attention. Nope. We have too much attention. It’s just...not always pointed in the direction society wants it to be (like toward taxes, or cleaning out the fridge, or that one email we opened four days ago and still haven’t answered because “respond to email” fell into a memory black hole).
Sensory Overload: Why Everything Feels Like Too Much
Imagine if your five senses were all turned up to 11 all the time. That’s what it’s like for many people with ADHD. The world feels like a loud, flashing, scented rave—and we’re supposed to “relax” and “concentrate” in that? Please.
The tiniest sound keeps us from falling asleep.
A flicker of movement across the room hijacks our thoughts.
A whiff of someone’s perfume can send us running like we just got sprayed with bear mace.
Our nervous systems are busy. Always. Even when we’re sitting still, we’re not truly at rest. Our minds are like five people talking at once—only you don’t get to pick the topic and there’s no “mute” button.
Hyperfocus vs. "Why Can’t I Start Anything?"
Here's the ADHD paradox: when something lights up our brain—BAM—we're in The Zone. Hyperfocus mode. We lose track of time, space, and bodily needs (raise your hand if you've forgotten to pee for 8 hours during a project... just me? Cool).
But ask us to do something boring, like fill out a form or schedule a dentist appointment? Suddenly our brains are holding a protest march, chanting “We won’t go! We won’t go!”
ADHD is not a “knowing” disorder it’s a “doing” disorder. We want to get things done. We try. But unless the task sparks interest, novelty, or a last-minute crisis? It feels like pushing a car with no wheels through wet cement. Which is why many of us become “masters of disaster”—unintentionally creating chaos to jumpstart our productivity. (Procrastinate until 11:59pm, then unleash a genius-level burst of energy. Classic ADHD.)
Why Our Motors Never Turn Off
Even if we're not physically hyperactive anymore (thanks, adulthood!), the internal motor is still revving. Many of us look calm on the outside—but inside, it's a ping-pong tournament between 17 tabs of thoughts, emotions, and ideas. Relaxation is...a challenge. Listening quietly? Even harder. And don’t even talk to us about falling asleep. Unless we’re exhausted from having 500 tabs open all day.
We often look like we’re paying attention. We nod. We smile. We even say “mmm” at the right moments. But then the conversation ends and we’re like, “Wait… what just happened?” because we were lost in a vivid daydream about...the popularity of the novel we have yet to write. Or rebranding capitalism.
The ADHD Library: Brilliant But No Dewey Decimal System
Think of an ADHD brain like a vast, magical library—but without a card catalog, a filing system, or shelves. Just piles of random books, quotes, videos, thoughts, and to-do lists scattered across the floor.
Need a genius idea in the middle of the night? No problem. Need to remember what time your dentist appointment is, or where you left your wallet? Oops. That file is...missing. Possibly under a stack of hyperfixation facts about medieval weaponry or that TikTok recipe you’ll definitely try someday.
This is why we lose track of time, keys, socks, emails, birthdays, and sometimes our own train of thought mid-sentence.
Shame, Frustration, and Feeling “Too Much”
Most people with ADHD are exhausted from trying to keep up with expectations that were never built for brains like ours. We know we’re capable—when the interest and the stars align. But we never quite know if we’ll be able to engage when it counts. That unpredictability breeds shame. “Why can’t I just do the thing?” is our daily internal monologue.
Others might call us disorganized, moody, or dramatic. What they don’t see is the incredible effort it takes to function in a world that doesn’t come with built-in accommodations for sensory sensitivity, executive dysfunction, or time blindness.
We don’t want to be unreliable. Or high-maintenance. Or late. We want to feel like we can trust ourselves. And if you’re reading this and nodding along—you’re not lazy, broken, or failing. You’re navigating a different neurological operating system. And honestly? It’s a powerful one.
TL;DR: Living with ADHD means...
You feel life more intensely—sounds, smells, sights, and feelings.
You may struggle with organization, not because you're careless, but because your brain library has no map.
You’re brilliant in crisis, but bored by the mundane.
You’re wired for creativity, not calendars.
You’re not alone. And you're not doing it wrong—you’re just doing it differently.
Want more ADHD-friendly metaphors, psychoeducation, and permission slips to be your beautifully wired self? Subscribe to my blog, or if you're in California, book a therapy session. I’ve got snacks. And empathy. And probably a Post-it stuck to my sleeve.



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