Here's the reality of RSD & ADHD
2 weeks ago, I genuinely believed it was perfectly achievable to sell & run a 20 person retreat in 1.5 months. And write and publish a book in 1 month. And launch an ADHD course in 2 months. And train 35 coaches at the same time. And create a new Level 2 Coaching Course.
I probably could have done these things if I continued to not leave the house and do nothing at all except work. However, I've now got a team of people who I quickly recognised would struggle to do this all at the same time, because they are not robots. I didn't want them becoming workaholics as well, or blaming themselves for my lack of self-awareness.
So I realised I had to take something away, starting with the retreat, despite how incredibly awkward this is to do after launching it one week ago.
I launched all of these things at the same time, high on adrenaline and stress and dopamine. I wrote a book in a month, by not leaving the house at all.
The bizarre thing is that no one told me to do any of this. There's no investors, no managers, no people standing over me, nothing that I even want to spend money on - I am just my own worst boss. And I have ADHD, which isn't going away, no matter how many books or retreats or courses I create.
I am excellent at advocating for other people, but this is still something I struggle with myself. I just wrote an entire book about how ADHD can be a disability at work, but I still forget that this applies for me too.
This is because disability is naturally associated with the sense of not being able to do something. Not the opposite: a wild determination to do anything and everything, despite this all literally being impossible unless you work until exploding into fire.
I am a big fan of recognising mistakes as quickly as possible, and taking responsibility for them. However, it's hard to do this without also recognising the reasons behind them, so you can aim to stop this from happening again. Accepting that this is because I have ADHD is a very difficult thing to do, because I don't want it to be an excuse. More than anyone, I should be able to manage it - this is what I do all day, every day, after all.
This is where the Rejection Sensitive Dysphoria can show up, interlinking with this mess in the most excruciatingly painful way.
It's not a 'fear of rejection': it's an overwhelming sense of anxiety and self-hatred. It's wanting to crawl into a hole, preferably in Antartica. It's feeling an immense sense of guilt and humiliation towards everyone you have confused and having to explain to them that you've changed your mind, despite their brilliant and wonderful hard work that you asked them to do.
It's the cycle of beating yourself up for things you have done, with nobody to blame but yourself. It's the feeling of shame as you work backwards from Level 100 towards where you should have started in the first place, returning to reality as you identify what is actually realistic for yourself and other people to follow without you all burning out.
Worst of all is the knowledge of how irrational it all is. Nobody actually cares as much as you do. You know this is the rational thing to do, and that it's actually a kind thing to relieve the pressure off everybody else. Even so, you can't stop beating yourself up for how you have wasted their time. Especially when they give you the kindness, understanding and support that you feel so incapable of giving to yourself.
Ultimately, experiencing RSD feels like you are trapped in a cycle of shame, which impacts your ability to trust yourself.
You don't want to tell anybody about this, because then they might not trust you either. It can also feel impossible to get this out of your brain, to climb down from the tornado of overwhelm and anxiety, and to pick it apart.
However, to do so is an act of kindness towards yourself. Explaining how you feel to somebody else (even if it happens to be 21,000 newsletter subscribers on LinkedIn) helps you to understand how you got to this place and to rationalise it for yourself.
For me, writing feels like making sense of it all. Sharing it with others helps me to reduce this overwhelming sense of RSD, because the darkness of shame can't live in the light.
The loneliness it tricks you into experiencing can't survive when other people resonate with this: from my work, the one thing I know above all else is that I am not the only person who experiences this, which makes it so much easier to accept.
Yesterday The Two Mountain Metaphor shown above was shared in our ADHD Coaches community by Nicola O'Brien as the perfect reminder for me:
When you accept who you are, including a brain that moves way too fast and wants to do everything, objectivity becomes easier. Reminding yourself of the kindness and acceptance you show others in the same position helps you to do the same towards yourself.
You are not alone, despite how lonely things might feel. You are not a terrible person. One mistake does not undermine your entire existence. You do not have to quit your job and life and run away. Everything will be okay.
I know how scary it is, but recognising and taking responsibility your mistakes makes you trustworthy, instead of ignoring them and hoping for the best.
So here's the Level 1 I've reached: if you'd like to join our self paced Make ADHD Work you course, head here.