🦄 I almost don't want to write this post at all, but my brain apparently decided this is one thing I’m allowed to finish today. So, fine—here we are with another completely random topic. I was diagnosed with ADHD in my mid-twenties during my second collegiate sprint—long before ADHD was a trendy meme (or a million chaotic ones).
Currently, I’ve got at least three half-written posts sitting around in various stages of “almost something,” but eventually I realized they're just not meant to be published right now, or possibly ever. If you add up everything between the “research phase” experiments and the “I should probably go check on that guy” projects, I’ve got close to twenty previously-categorized-as-active things in the works.
The problem? I’m done. Temporarily, fully, and without any dramatic collapse—just that familiar shift where something in the ADHD spark cycle powers down. There are things I want to do that I normally enjoy—plenty of them—but right now everything is grounded. However long the spark stays gone, that’s where it all stays: in a temporarily indefinitely hibernating state. It could shift tomorrow or next month or whenever the internal reboot finally happens, because that’s the pattern with ADHD motivation cycles. 🚦
So I’m trying to finish this post without making myself sound crazier than usual—since a certain baseline level of insanity is to be expected from me at this point—and hoping the spark gives me enough runway to make it to the end this round. ✨
The Myth of the Deficit 🧩
Before getting into the spark part, I need to address the language problem, because the way ADHD gets defined and talked about almost never aligns with the way it really works. So let's take apart attention deficit hyperactivity disorder, piece by piece.
First, “disorder” implies brokenness and nothing in this system is broken. It may be inconvenient for conventional workflows, sure, but not broken. So that term gets dropped immediately as completely irrelevant.
Then there’s “attention deficit,” which feels like the world’s most inaccurate label. I don’t lack attention; if anything, I hyper-focus on ten unrelated, equally compelling things at the exact same time. I didn’t not hear you—most of the time—but the top ten list in my head tends to reorganize itself faster than I can translate it.
The delay between “I processed that” and “I can form a response” is just my internal synchronization doing its job. Sometimes that takes a second—it’s normal, though, so please, just give me a sec... Longer than that? Feel free to assume I went after a runaway train and take over as you please. Although, I reserve the right to interrupt when I get back—because that’s also normal. ⏳
“Hyperactive” is just as inaccurate as everything else. I’m not bouncing off the walls randomly. I’m just someone whose brain cannot sit idle inside a boredom vacuum for more than a fraction of a second. If my forward momentum stops, I'll likely drift into a state of accidental suspended animation—which typically means I'm either asleep or daydreaming—and neither ever happens conveniently. That fact has far more to do with attention regulation than with hyperactivity.
Most people never see the inner workings of ADHD—the cycles, the patterns, the weird drift between hyper-focus and complete stasis. I've seen a lot of people experience similar cycles and mask the effects to fit in or seem normal, but I've stopped prioritizing the appearance of "normal" over my own well-being. Sometimes, dropping the mask looks exactly like this. 🎭
The Selective Spark–Resonance Circuit 🔄
So if the standard definitions don’t match, what does? There are plenty of ADHD rebrands hanging around the internet, but none of them feel quite right for the way my internal systems behave. So I'll stick with what actually makes sense to me: the completely made-up selective spark–resonance circuit.
This is the thing that picks and chooses both the most interesting current topic and exactly how long it will occupy the space in my head, which could be anywhere between thirty seconds and most of the year. This is that all-or-nothing mode lacking any sort of dimmer switch at every possible point in the workflow. I’m either running wide open or I’m out of order entirely.
It’s sort of like having railroad tracks running in every direction, all with different trains, different speeds, different destinations, and all of which require fuel that the spark provides—and that spark is not infinite. A lot of people are quick to call the quiet phase burnout, but I disagree. Burnout feels destructive—I’m just done.
The fuel that powered whatever project, hobby, obsession, or mission I was on yesterday simply flickers out. No questions asked, no negotiations, it didn't bother giving me a heads up at all—it just stops. The moment that happens, every single one of those ten automatic lightning-speed trains simultaneously runs out of fuel, and trying to push any one of them manually feels awful. 🫸🚂
Years ago, I actually made a list of all the reasons I was forcing myself through the done-phase, and not one of those reasons mattered to anyone except me. I was trying to be some imaginary version of “normal,” and it was miserable. So, I stopped.
For the record, “done” isn’t depressed or apathy. I still want to finish everything on my list, but the spark—the thing responsible for consistently ignoring clocks and turning multitasking into an Olympic sport—is gone for the moment. “Done” is a reset state filled with calm, drifting, random sleep cycles, and without any pressure or attempts to force myself into motion before the spark returns. 🪫
And the spark always returns. It never comes back in the same form and I don’t control when it does or which trains it wakes up, but it always comes back.
In the meantime, boundaries are the first thing to snap into place. I protect my time so that “done” doesn’t collapse into real apathetic burnout. The music gets louder, song loops rotate more frequently, breaks become a sudden requirement, and the drive to be constantly on hibernates naturally. And since I need a certain level of interest and novelty to function, I let the off-schedule naps happen when they need to. And honestly, after a spark cycle has run its course, I probably need those naps anyway. 😴
If You’re in the Pause Too 🌘
So this post has two purposes: first, I didn’t disappear—I’m still around, just posting less for a while. Second and more important, if you’re going through your own version of this cycle and you’re convinced something is wrong or that you’re stuck or failing—it’s absolutely okay to stop and allow yourself to be off for a bit. 🛌
The world doesn’t explode when you don’t finish a project and work will survive if you take a mental health day. Remember, the spark always comes back and the trains will start to move on their own again. 🚂✨
The direction might shift, it might be a new hobby, a new purpose, or a new goal, but the energy will return when it's good and ready to be on again. It might not look like a version of normal the rest of the world understands, but it doesn’t have to make sense to the rest of the world.
It only needs to make sense to you. 🫶
🛡️ Off-Cycle Notes
ChatGPT helped stitch the wording together and composed this footer after not-at-all-calmly redefining the rules again. The spark, the stall, and the reboot are all mine.
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