Inside My Neurodivergent (Commonly nicknamed AuDHD) Brain

The Post I Never Imagined I'd be Writing

For years, I had no idea that I might have both ADHD and autism — it never even crossed my mind. But recently, as I started learning more about neurodivergence, it became clear that I’ve probably been living with both for most of my life. It’s like everything clicked into place, and suddenly, so many struggles and experiences I’ve had in school, work, and everyday life started to make sense.

I’m still in the process of figuring this all out, but I wanted to share what I’m learning, in case it resonates with anyone else. There are so many women out there who, like me, might be going through life undiagnosed, not realising that what they’re experiencing is connected to something bigger.

This post is the start of my journey to understanding what AuDHD means for me, and I hope it sparks a conversation that helps raise awareness for others who may be going through the same thing.

What’s Going On? Perimenopause, or something else?

Many gifted or highly intelligent people (especially women) fly under the radar because they’ve unconsciously developed coping mechanisms like masking, perfectionism, people-pleasing, or becoming "the high achiever" in certain areas. Intelligence can help compensate for executive dysfunction—but it doesn’t remove the struggle. Instead, it often just hides it… until burnout, overwhelm, or adulthood make it unmanageable.

The result? Decades of internalising the idea that you’re lazy, inconsistent, scattered, too sensitive, or just anxious, when the reality might be an undiagnosed neurodevelopmental condition like ADHD or autism.

For many women, neurodivergent traits (especially those related to inattention or difficulty with focus and regulation) have flown under the radar for years, often unnoticed until perimenopause hits and hormones begin to shift. As oestrogen plays a crucial role in regulating key brain chemicals like dopamine and norepinephrine, which are involved in:

• Focus

• Mood

• Emotional regulation

• Working memory

• Executive function

The fluctuations and decline in oestrogen during perimenopause can amplify these traits, leading to:

• An increase in brain fog, forgetfulness, overwhelm, and emotional sensitivity.

• Coping strategies that once worked suddenly stop being effective.

• A growing feeling of “Something’s wrong with me — I used to manage all this!”

But this isn’t a personal failing — it’s biology and a lifetime of adapting to challenges, only for those coping mechanisms to finally reach their limits. The result is a perfect storm where long-standing neurodivergent traits become more pronounced, often mistaken for the normal effects of perimenopause.

My Story

Here is my (very) personal story – a (long) list of ‘traits’ that I’m only just now realising is a solid list of symptoms for ADHD, Autism, along with High Intelligence.

• 1-1 interactions - Even when I know I’m doing well, I often feel the need to over-explain or fill the silence, driven by a fear of not meeting expectations. This can leave me exhausted, even if the other person is engaged and enjoying the conversation.

• Anxiety - A constant undercurrent. Once one worry resolves, the anxiety shifts seamlessly to something else.

• Black-and-white thinking – Grey areas feel uncomfortable. I need to bring clarity, consistency, and clearly defined expectations into my work—through rules, documents, and procedures. Ambiguity stresses me out. I need to know what's expected so I can relax, without second-guessing or misinterpreting. (Probably why I excel at roles like Quality and Internal Auditing.)

• Burnout from masking - Acting how I “should” in social settings is exhausting, it can be deeply draining and lead to shutdowns or emotional fatigue.

• Chronic disorganisation - I try every system, planner, and app, but life still feels chaotic and cluttered – even if it looks fine from the outside.

• Cognitive Flexibility and Lack of Focus – I can leap from idea to idea, but that mental agility often means unfinished projects, mental fatigue, and regret.

• Constant background music - A song (or three) playing on a loop in my head, all day, even when I’m trying to sleep. Why I can’t often tolerate music, especially bad music, even if it’s in the background, and absolutely HATE when I hear a snippet of a song I despise, like Dance Monkey – it drives me CRAZY. Just typing this means it’s now in my head!

• Creative and intuitive - I see connections and solutions others miss, often in brilliant ways. But it’s isolating when no one else sees what I see. I’m great at streamlining systems, yet frustrated when others can’t follow.

• Creativity vs precision in music / dance – I want to express freely, but I get stuck in the need for exactness—the beat, the rhythm, the syncopation. My brain won’t let go unless it’s mathematically perfect, which stifles the creative flow I’m craving. I can play by ear. I buy another instrument. Learn it. Give up. Repeat!

• Deep insight into others - I sense people’s feelings easily, even if I can’t always access or name my own.

• Deep thinking and over analysis - I don’t just have thoughts—I deep-dive into them from every angle until I’m exhausted and stuck in indecision.

• Difficulty with small talk - I crave meaning. Surface-level chit-chat feels awkward or pointless. If I sense a real connection, I’ll dive straight into deep-and-meaningfuls—even with someone I’ve just met—until I realise they’re uncomfortable with that level of depth and I feel like I’ve overshared (again).

• Easily bored - Repetitive or routine tasks feel like torture. I crave novelty and mental stimulation.

• Emotional dysregulation - Intense emotional responses that feel out of proportion to the situation and are hard to calm down from.

• Emotional Sensitivity vs. Intellect – Despite my intellectual strengths, I often find myself emotionally overwhelmed or overstimulated by situations that others may not even notice. I feel things deeply and am incredibly empathetic but balancing these is overwhelming.

• Emotional shutdowns - When overwhelmed, I may suddenly go numb or shut off entirely.

• Executive dysfunction - Trouble with planning, initiating, sequencing, switching tasks, and following through. I haven’t overcome it, but I’ve learned to work around it. I can hyperfocus and power through tasks I’m passionate about, but if something becomes mentally draining, boring, or hits a wall, it feels impossible to continue. I either dive in obsessively or avoid it completely — there’s rarely an in-between.

• Exhausting self-management - Daily functioning feels like juggling flaming swords—blindfolded.

• Forgetfulness in daily tasks - Losing keys, walking into a room and forgetting why, putting down my glasses 2 minutes ago and can’t remember where —  I completely freak out if it’s my glasses and everyone has to drop everything to help me find them.

• Giftedness and Isolation – Being intellectually ahead made school boring. I rebelled. Now, I often feel out of sync with others and misunderstood. I feel like THEY think I’m stupid.

• High expectations - For myself. For others. When reality doesn’t meet them, it’s frustrating and often disheartening. Feeling like I’ve not met expectations leads to guilt, withdrawal, and burnout.

• High Intelligence and Overthinking – My brain is constantly processing, analysing, and connecting ideas in ways that others often don’t see. This leads to deep, complex thinking but can also result in overthinking, which makes it hard to focus on one thing at a time. When things feel too simple or unchallenging, my mind quickly loses interest, leading to boredom and procrastination.

• Highly empathic and emotionally porous - I absorb others’ emotions like a sponge, even when I don’t want to. I can feel your discomfort even if you haven’t named it.

• Highly sensitive - To noise, criticism, bright lights, pressure, expectations, and more. Everything feels louder, sharper, more intense.

• Hyperawareness - Micro-expressions, smells, ambient noise, tension in a room—I notice it all. Others filter it out. I can’t.

• Hyperfocus - When something captivates me, I dive in obsessively… until I suddenly burn out or lose interest.

• Impulsivity - I make quick decisions, thinking I’ve considered everything. But often, it's because I’ve become overwhelmed by overthinking and just want to make a choice. Unfortunately, it’s often the wrong one when I look back. It’s incredibly common in undiagnosed ADHD, especially when there’s a craving for stimulation, autonomy, or a mismatch between the environment and how their brain works.

• Intellectual boredom - Shallow conversation and mindless tasks feel physically uncomfortable.

• Interest burnout – Something I once loved, hobbies, goals, or even jobs, can suddenly feel dead to me.

• Interest-based nervous system - I’m not lazy. I just can’t engage unless it’s novel, urgent, or deeply interesting.

• Interrupting in conversation - My brain’s already raced ahead in the conversation. I know where it’s going and I blurt.

• Intolerance for harmful or illogical behaviour – Cruelty, conspiracy thinking, racism, sarcasm used to belittle—it’s not just wrong. It hits me in the gut. I can’t ignore it—especially when it harms women, children, animals, wildlife, or the environment. That stuff physically hurts to witness.

• Low tolerance for inefficiency or incompetence - I get deeply frustrated when things are clumsy or poorly designed. Not because I’m arrogant—but because better solutions seem so obvious to me.

• Mental time travel - Constantly replaying the past or rehearsing the future, worrying about what can’t be changed.

• Micromanaging or over-preparing - Obsessively planning or triple-check everything to calm the chaos.

• Mood swings – Extreme emotional highs and lows that can change rapidly, often triggered by overstimulation or frustration.

• Object permanence issues - “Out of sight, out of mind.” If something isn’t right in front of me, I often forget it exists. That’s why I’m always searching for the perfect planner to keep everything visible and remembered — but I can never quite find one that works exactly the way my brain needs it to.

• Obsessive research and knowledge-seeking – Whether for work, study, coaching, creating content, or for my own health, I deep dive into a topic until I’ve learned everything I can (and I don’t just mean googling). If I hit a dead end or can't find the information because it hasn't been discovered or connected yet, I’ll suddenly switch to something else.

• Overcommitting – I say Yes, then get overwhelmed. Following through becomes difficult.

• Past mistakes haunt me - Something I said or did 5, 10, even 30 years ago can pop into my head like it was yesterday.

• Pattern recognition – I see what others miss - in behaviours, conversations, or abstract concepts.

• Perfectionism - Everything has to be just right, so tasks that should take 10 minutes can take hours – it’s exhausting.

• Perseveration – Getting stuck in a loop of thought, emotion, or behaviour that's hard to break out of, often involving repetitive thinking, over-analysing (rumination), or intrusive thoughts that are difficult to control or shake off.

• Poor working memory - I forget what I’m doing mid-task because I’ve gone off on tangents yet recall obscure facts from 30 years ago.

• Procrastination - Tasks or projects can feel like mountains, I often can't start until the last minute, if at all.

• Racing thoughts - My mind never stops. Like dozens of browser tabs all auto-refreshing at once-even at 3a.m.

• Rejection Sensitivity Dysphoria (RSD) - A small comment, a look, or a tone can trigger a spiral of self-doubt and emotional intensity. Feeling like an outsider - I’ve often felt “different” or misunderstood, even in spaces where I’m included.

• Sensory overwhelm / sensory seeking – Too much noise, light, wind, crowds, or chaos can quickly become unbearable and leave me feeling overstimulated, as my brain struggles to process the excess input, leaving me frazzled and drained. But there’s also the other side of it. Sometimes, I actively seek out sensory experiences to help my brain feel more engaged, grounded, or present. It could be the soothing sensation of sunlight on my face, or feeling a gentle breeze through an open window, with the curtain softly moving. It could be indulging in a snack even when I’m not hungry, just to feel the satisfying crunch or savour the taste. These moments are a way for my brain to self-regulate and find that much-needed dopamine reward — especially when I’m feeling disconnected, or under / over-stimulated. Let’s not even get started on clothing labels! That one little tag against my skin can drive me absolutely mad — it’s like an instant irritant, demanding my attention until I can get rid of it.

• Sleep struggles - Racing thoughts keep me from falling asleep—or from falling back to sleep. It’s usually just random thoughts out of nowhere, but I’m very creative in problem solving in the middle of the night.

• Social anxiety - Replaying and overanalysing everything I said or did, long after the interaction ends.

• Stimming or cognitive self-regulation – counting everything in my head - Whether it’s counting the number of times I slice the banana, repetitive tasks, the number of steps to the clothesline, or how many stirs of the spoon.

• Struggling with Self-Recognition and Ego – My whole life, I’ve downplayed my intelligence or intuition, unsure how to own it without sounding arrogant—or because I’ve been made to feel I shouldn’t. It feels ego-driven or arrogant. This internal struggle is common for many highly intelligent people who battle with imposter syndrome.

• Task paralysis - Simple tasks can feel impossible to start, especially when there’s no clear beginning or too many steps.

Intelligence, School, and the Confidence Gap

Looking back, I can see how my intelligence showed up in school — but it didn’t always feel like a strength. I picked things up quickly, often faster than those around me, but instead of being supported or challenged in a meaningful way, I was mostly left to coast. There was one teacher who recognised it — he’d give me extra work at a higher level — but instead of feeling encouraged, I resented being singled out. At that age, I just wanted to blend in, not be made to feel even more different. Funnily enough, I hated him at the time, even though he might have been the only one who saw what I needed. In classrooms with 30-40 kids, the rest of the system didn’t know what to do with someone like me.

When I got to high school, things only got harder. The environment wasn’t designed to stretch or engage students like me. I grew bored, restless, and eventually disengaged. I didn’t know then that this kind of disconnect — between potential and opportunity — was something many neurodivergent girls experienced, especially in an era when differences were often overlooked or misunderstood. I left in Year 11, and without a formal academic path or degree, I carried a quiet, deep insecurity that I wasn’t “educated enough.” But I had one skill that gave me a start — typing. I was the fastest in the class, and it opened the door to office work. From there, I taught myself bookkeeping, moved into office management, and eventually worked my way into leadership roles. I didn't take a traditional path, but I carved one out anyway — driven by curiosity, competence, and persistence, even if I didn’t always give myself credit for it.

Vocational study and the workplace!

That sense of not being “educated enough” has stuck with me through a long and relatively successful career. It wasn’t just about not having a degree — it shaped how I saw myself in professional spaces. I often struggle to find the words in meetings or feel like I can’t hold a proper conversation, especially when others seem so fluent and articulate. It’s not that I don’t have anything to say — I just can’t get it out clearly or quickly enough. Looking back, I think a mix of confidence gaps, unrecognised neurodivergence, and not having had the kind of education that encouraged me to find and use my voice all played a part.

• I have difficulty acknowledging my intelligence openly, because I’ve internalised shame around standing out. But I’m slowly learning to embrace that my brain — in all its brilliance and chaos — is not broken, just wired differently.

• Self-teaching and rapid skill acquisition – maybe it was different back when I started, but it often shows up in gifted individuals with ADHD or autism, especially when driven by curiosity or necessity.

• Rushing through training - when the content feels slow or redundant. It’s classic ADHD/gifted overlap. It’s not lack of care—it’s boredom and a desire to move at my own pace.

• Going deep when the topic matters - Like studying for my fitness certifications. I wasn’t in it for the piece of paper—I craved real knowledge. I studied full time for 10 months to complete two certs and was awarded Credits for my assignments. Most PTs finish in weeks—and these days, the requirements are so lax it’s honestly alarming. Many learn just enough to (unintentionally) hurt someone. But when something holds real value, I hyperfocus, commit fully, and need to understand it from the inside out.

• High competence and initiative – Being over-relied on once people see what I’m capable of. If I can do it, I do it—even when it’s well beyond the scope of my role. The downside? I get relied on more and more, and it starts to feel like being taken advantage of. After I left a Public Service role, a business manager had to step in when the person who replaced me was overwhelmed. They had to slash the workload I’d been carrying—because I’d taken on so much more than the role was ever meant to include. While much of this was due to my boss’s direction—he saw potential in me and actively asked me to take on additional responsibilities in preparation for a higher position—my neurodivergent traits played a major role. Particularly my ability to quickly understand complex situations and take initiative. I’m always willing and able to go above and beyond, understanding situations quickly and aiming to support my boss and the team. While that might sound like a normal approach, it often came with no extra pay, title, or recognition—just more pressure. This led to exhaustion, resentment, and burnout—making me wonder how I ended up stuck in that role again.

• Drawn to coaching or teaching roles – I naturally end up in positions where I help or guide others, because I can see what they need and come up with practical or intuitive solutions. But the truth is, I often need that same kind of support myself. With complex 1-1 clients, I can get so caught up in thinking of ways to help them — even outside of sessions — that it becomes mentally and emotionally exhausting. It’s hard to switch off, and I end up pouring energy into their outcomes while neglecting my own needs or boundaries.

Summary

Now, as more women are starting to recognise the signs of neurodivergence later in life, it’s becoming clear how many of us have been undiagnosed or unaware that we may have been living with these traits all along. It's only just starting to come to light how common it is, particularly for women whose experiences often don’t fit the stereotypical narratives of conditions like ADHD. This shift in awareness is essential, as it helps us understand ourselves better and finally makes sense of challenges we’ve faced for years.

Medical Disclaimer: The content shared in this blog is based on my personal experiences and observations related to sensory overwhelm and sensory seeking behaviour. It is not intended to be medical advice or a substitute for professional evaluation. If you suspect that you may have sensory processing challenges or neurodivergent traits, it’s important to seek guidance from a qualified healthcare professional or specialist. The information provided should not be used to self-diagnose or treat any medical condition. Always consult a healthcare provider for proper diagnosis and treatment options.