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This one feels like it’s hitting home for me right now and I thought, “what better time to write about how people with ADHD avoid grief then when you are doing it yourself….” Thanks for that, brain.
If you’ve ever found yourself diving into work after a loss, scrolling endlessly instead of sitting with your feelings, or keeping yourself so busy that you never have time to think, you’re not alone.
Many people with ADHD struggle with grief and sadness, not because they don’t care, and not because they aren’t affected by loss. In fact, the opposite is often true. For many ADHDers, sadness and grief feels so overwhelming that avoidance becomes a way of coping.
Over the past two months, I have lost a pregnancy and my two senior dogs (my first two babies) back to back. While I could feel the sadness under the surface, it almost felt too deep and I feared (though didn’t identify this at the time) that if I sank into it and really felt it, I would never recover or return from it.
When people say things like “you’re handling it all so well,” what they don’t see is the amount of DIY projects I have started and are half done in true ADHD fashion as a way to keep myself moving. What they don’t see is my irritability because I feel like I am fighting my own emotions that feel like they are creeping in. What they don’t see is how my body collapses at the end of the day.
Masking our big feelings is often ADHD second nature and what seems like a compliment to some, often keeps us in the cycle of not being able to fully express what is going on inside.
One of the aspects of ADHD that feels most impactful is emotional regulation and distress tolerance.
Many people with ADHD describe emotions as feeling intense, immediate, and difficult to turn down. When sadness or grief enters the picture, it can feel all-consuming.
It can feel like:
Avoidance often isn’t about not feeling enough, it’s about feeling too much and not wanting to drown in it.
Grief is slow.
It asks us to pause, reflect, remember, and sit with discomfort.
The ADHD brain, however, is often wired to seek stimulation, novelty, and dopamine. When faced with painful emotions, the brain naturally searches for something that feels better.
That relief might look like:
These behaviors aren’t signs that someone isn’t grieving. They are often attempts to manage emotional overwhelm.
Executive functioning doesn’t only help us manage tasks and schedules. It also helps us organize our internal experiences and grief can feel messy and confusing when you are neurodivergent.
Instead of experiencing emotions in a clear sequence, you might experience:
When emotions feel chaotic, avoidance can seem easier than trying to sort through them.
By the time you reach adulthood, you are likely conditioned to believe that your emotions are too much. Over time, you learned to suppress difficult emotions rather than process them.
As adults, we automatically move into problem-solving, caretaking, or productivity whenever sadness appears.
The habit of pushing through can become so ingrained that slowing down to grieve feels unfamiliar or even unsafe.
Many people with ADHD experience rejection sensitivity, a heightened emotional response to criticism, exclusion, disappointment, or perceived rejection.
Because of this, grief can carry additional layers of pain.
A loss may not only bring sadness about what happened. It may also activate deeper feelings of abandonment, loneliness, inadequacy, or disconnection.
What looks like “avoiding grief” may actually be an attempt to avoid the intensity of these overlapping emotional experiences.
Healing doesn’t require forcing yourself to feel everything all at once. Sometimes healing begins by simply noticing when you’re reaching for distraction.
It might sound like:
Grief isn’t something we get over. It’s something we learn to carry and for people with ADHD, that process may look different than it does for others.
If you’ve been avoiding sadness, it doesn’t mean you’re doing grief wrong. It may simply mean you’ve been carrying more than anyone realized…and perhaps more than you’ve allowed yourself to acknowledge.
If you can, take some time to pause and reflect on the grief or sadness you haven’t allowed yourself to feel. What freedom could you experience if you didn’t feel like you had to outrun it all the time?
With lots of love and solidarity,
Rachel
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Join my Substack Community, The Late Diagnosis ADHD Club
Work with me: I offer virtual counseling in NC and SC as well as coaching for executive functioning support to those outside of NC & SC.
Email: rachel@racheltenny.com for more information.
Resources for ADHD: I have a library of mental health resources and a section just for ADHD and Women with a Late Diagnosis!
Are you a therapist? I offer supervision and consulting for therapists as well as The Therapist Toolbox Resource Library for other providers.
Women with ADHD aren’t “too emotional”, we just feel things deeply and all at once.
If you’re a woman with ADHD, there’s a good chance you’ve been described as “too sensitive,” “dramatic,” “reactive,” or “a lot.” And if you’re anything like the women I work with in my therapy practice, you’ve internalized that narrative for years.
For many people, receiving an ADHD diagnosis later in life comes with a wave of relief.
Finally, there’s an explanation. Finally, things make sense.
But relief is often only part of the story.
What doesn’t get talked about enough is the grief that follows — quiet, heavy, and sometimes unexpected. Late-diagnosis ADHD grief isn’t dramatic or indulgent. It’s a normal response to understanding your life through a new lens.
And it deserves space.
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