December is tough if you have ADHD

This is the time of year when having ADHD hurts the most.

Like many of us, I'm experiencing a difficult December this year. I'm feeling depleted, spending long hours in front of the computer doing the most trivial things, with no drive to focus on my smallest priorities.

The truth is, I'm exhausted from this year.

Not this year particularly. Every year is the same story, and if you have ADHD, it probably sounds familiar to you.

This exhaustion might be expected, because we are not machines. We feel, we dream, we desire. We are not just numbers on a spreadsheet, no matter how much society makes us believe otherwise.

For someone with ADHD, it’s incredibly hard to avoid the psychological pain of letting another year slip away.

Sure, I’ve had some impactful personal challenges. In the last two months, I endured a massive hurricane and, weeks later, had to move to another town because my landlord raised my rent, and I couldn’t afford it. Reconstructions, adaptations, resettlements. Even the U.S. elections, I can say they drained a bit of my energy too.

But my problems are neither bigger nor smaller than anyone else’s. We all have our own struggles. Fortunately, I’m well-fed, sheltered, and healthy, enough to sit here and write another article on Substack.

The thing is, the weight of the year—the unfinished goals, the unrealized dreams and tasks—feels like a massive burden for us.

The feeling of living 350 days and, in the last 10 days, realizing how much more we could have done if we’d been more organized.

This is the time of year when having ADHD hurts the most.

Because no matter how much we’ve lived, we all know life is limited. Whether we’re 30, 60, or 90 years old—45 in my case—it’s so hard to face the end of another year.

It’s hard to think about anything else. It’s hard to overcome this deeply personal sadness. It’s a sadness stored deep inside us, often invisible to those around us.

It’s the ADHD sadness of the end of the year.

And it took on a whole new meaning after I was diagnosed three years ago. But only this year have I been able to see how this melancholy has repeated itself during this time of year throughout my life.

We can try to address this in two ways:

First, by practicing the old and good gratitude for what we do have—our health, our lives. If you’re reading this, you’re fortunate enough to have your mental faculties intact, and most likely, the freedom to do what you want, whenever it’s possible.

Second, by understanding and accepting ourselves for who we are. Accept your ADHD. Accept that, to some extent, you will always procrastinate. Accept that you will always feel some dissatisfaction with your performance.

Accept that you will probably reach the end of the next year with this feeling of having been capable of more.

But most importantly, understand that we don’t need to achieve perfection in every endeavor we undertake.

If your sadness feels unbearable, my friend, take a break from your phone and computer. Today, I hit rock bottom—I cried a lot. But then I lay in bed for about an hour and a half. My cat came to snuggle between my legs, and he probably helped too.

I felt so much better afterward. Not magically better, but enough to get up and write this article. It was like a part of my sadness stayed in bed. And it worked—so much so that I’m now sharing this after 23 days of not publishing anything on Substack.

Which has never happened before. But it’s not the end of the world.

Nothing is the end of the world. I hope the next few days are kinder to you.

Don’t forget to be kind to yourself.

This isn’t the best time to push yourself too hard.

Stay strong!