Writing with ADHD
When the words don't fall out: an inexhaustive list of ADHD traits that can make writing harder than it needs to be
Writers love to say writing is like wrestling alligators. If that’s true, writing with ADHD is like wrestling an alligator with one hand—sometimes both—tied behind your back.
Maybe this is where you want to stop me to ask, “Wait, isn’t ADHD a creative superpower?”
While I don’t go so far as to call it a superpower, I can’t deny we ADHDers may have a leg up on others when it comes to some aspects of creativity, like out-of-the-box thinking. But there are characteristics that can impede our creative capacities.
I also can’t deny it’s more important to lean into the strengths than to bemoan the difficulties. But to really lean in and make the most of the advantages, we have to recognize and name the difficulties to better understand and address them.
If you scan the list of creativity busters that follows, you might say all writers have these problems. No question. I don’t know many writers for whom writing comes easily. It’s not only those with ADHD who stare down the blank page or anxiously watch the cursor blinking as if it’s impatient for their next words, as if it’s taunting them, mocking them. So sure, if you asked neurotypical writers to compile a list of the hard stuff—what they struggle with—the items would likely overlap significantly with those on the lists neurodivergent writers would tally. Still, and not that it’s a contest, it’s a good bet ADHD writers’ lists would be longer and have more than a few issues unique to them. But the worst part is that what might merely trouble other writers can overwhelm and frustrate us to the point that we’ll give up—perhaps temporarily but, sadly, sometimes, forever.
In future posts I’ll look more closely at these difficulties, talk about workarounds, and invite readers and experts to weigh in on what helps and what doesn’t. But for now, here’s a menu of some common creativity disruptors. These problems are fluid and blur and blend, one causing another. And to complicate things further, some of these challenging characteristics are also the traits that, in certain circumstances, can be assets.
You may have other issues (and I’d love to hear about them!). This is just my personal top 10. (Tomorrow, my top ten might be entirely different.) And while this content is skewed toward writers, much of it applies to artists of all kinds. More than a few of the issues that follow are manifestations of obstacles related to executive functions—cognitive processes involved, for example, in planning, organizing, prioritizing, regulating emotions, working memory, staying on task, mental flexibility, and impulse control.
Task Paralysis
You might have a great idea, but you can’t make the leap from inspiration to execution. That can happen for lots of reasons, but one is that people with ADHD simply have trouble getting started. Faced with difficulty—even when we want to do a task—we feel overwhelmed and simply go blank. It’s as if our brains shut down. We don’t know how or where to start and so we zone out, procrastinate, or distract ourselves with something else. It’s a consequence of perfectionism, executive dysfunction, overwhelm, and more.
Difficulty Rebounding from Interruptions
Once we manage to get on task, a simple interruption can throw us far off course. Whereas others might jump right back into whatever they were doing before an interruption, we find it hard to snap back. And if we can’t return to the groove we slipped out of, our progress stalls or, worse, we give up.
Decision Fatigue
Have you ever stood in the frozen food aisle at the supermarket trying to decide which vegetable to buy when your brain freezes and you end up walking away empty-handed? Difficulty making decisions is a common feature of ADHD, one that’s made all the worse by mental fatigue. It’s a problem for writers because writing is all about decisions: which story to tell, what angle to take, which point of view, what structure, what words to use. There isn’t one aspect of the writing process that isn’t driven by decisions. So we may never get out of the gate because we can’t choose which way we’re going let alone pick which words to string together to tell a coherent story. This is where frustrated writers often stop before they get started.
Impulsivity
Acting impulsively can damage a writing practice and torpedo a career in more than a few ways. We start a project, maybe make headway on a novel, for example, and then become attracted by a shiny new idea, tossing the novel in the bulging trashbin of neglected manuscripts. It’s hard for everyone to sustain the same level of enthusiasm at all times when working on a book or an essay, but as soon as we even momentarily lose the spark, we can be more prone to bail than to persevere.
Difficulty Tolerating Boredom
Being able to sit with boredom may sound anything but desirable, yet boredom can be a beneficial passive state in which creativity can bloom and ideas can flourish. People with ADHD tend to experience boredom, however, as excruciating—as something like actual pain—so we’re likely to do anything to resist the idleness that gives rise to it. It’s to our detriment, because it’s often in the quiet moments when imagination sparks, when ideas and insights gather and are incubated. If we can’t become comfortable with brief periods of boredom, we miss an opportunity to daydream—to let imagination roam.
Hyperfocus
It might seem that hyperfocus—the ability to stay at something for hours with unflagging enthusiasm—would be good for writers. And it is, when it happens while we’re writing. But often we laser drill our attention on other things instead of our writing. Wrapped up in that stranglehold of attention to something other than our work in progress, we blow right by the time we set aside to write.
Memory
Writers are often advised to write longhand, but it can be a bad advice for those with ADHD. For one thing, many of us have dreadful handwriting (dysgraphia) and so what seemed so brilliant today will be entirely illegible by tonight. But the more important reason is that because we struggle with working memory, we might have a great idea but as soon we put pen to paper to capture it, the words are like kites drifting off in the wind, already too far away to rein in. Or we have a train of thought that gets horribly derailed and what seemed like an epiphany suddenly sounds like word salad.
Inattention and Distraction
This is a big one. Attention deficit is part of the name, but ADHD isn’t characterized by a deficit of attention. Rather, it involves an inability to regulate attention. We can pay attention like nobody’s business when we’re interested enough, but other times, not so much. Henry James famously advised writers to “be someone on whom nothing is lost.” Driving on a local road this morning, I pointed to a building and asked my husband if it was new. Turns out, it’s been there for years. I drive by it regularly and somehow never noticed or remembered it. And chances are next week I’ll ask the same question about the same building. Writers need an ability to observe—to be sponges, soaking up our surroundings, noticing the details so we can incorporate them in our work or let them drive our curiosity. But that doesn’t come naturally when our attention is like a wildly ricocheting pinball.
Perfectionism
A need to get everything perfect is a coping tool used to alleviate anxiety about failure, embarrassment, criticism, and disapproval. It’s what might drive us to revise and revise and revise, sometimes before we’ve even finished a sentence. It makes us believe that if our writing isn’t perfect, it should never see the light of day. Perfectionism thrives due to a lack of confidence, shame, imposter syndrome, and the ADHDer’s tendency toward all-or-nothing, black-or-white thinking. Like task paralysis, perfectionism can stop us before we get started. Fear of making mistakes or doing poorly can make it feel too risky to even try.
We’re Just No Good
This is a twin to perfectionism, and it comes from a massive rolling ball gathering self-doubt, negative-self-talk, imposter syndrome, and rejection. I’m sure there aren’t any writers who don’t have moments when they tell themselves they’re talentless hacks. But those of us with ADHD tend to suffer from what’s known as rejection sensitivity dysphoria—which means, thanks to the way our brains work, that rejection bites us harder than it bites others. It can feel shattering and send us spiraling, so much so that we may not want to take the chance of inviting shame and humiliation. And that’s tough in a business in which rejection is the norm.
If you feel shame or grief or regret about what you perceive as failures with respect to your writing (or anything!), it’s understandable. But unless you’re not trying at all, you’re not failing. You’re not lazy. You’re not incapable. You’re not untalented. You have a brain that works differently. Noticing the differences isn’t whining or making excuses. It’s recognition of the simple truth that aspects of your chosen profession or avocation may be more difficult for you than for others. Acknowledging the issues is the first step in learning to work with the neurodivergent brain you have instead of trying to do the impossible—to work as if you’re neurotypical.
Okay…your turn. Does ADHD make it hard for you to show up and do your best writing, and if so, how?
This is fascinating, Kate. I don't have ADHD, but this makes it so clear. Especially: "ADHD isn’t characterized by a deficit of attention. Rather, it involves an inability to regulate attention. We can pay attention like nobody’s business when we’re interested enough, but other times, not so much." Thank you!
Great post, Kate! I don’t have ADHD, but I can still relate to much of what you say. Writing is a hard, lonely business for us all!