Relearning What Actually Helps

(Instead of Just Coping)

For a while, I lost myself in survival mode. When life felt heavy, I leaned into the easiest escape routes - drinking a bit too much, sleeping a bit too much, numbing out instead of actually feeling things. It wasn’t intentional, but it became a pattern. And the thing about numbing is that it doesn’t just take away the bad stuff - it dulls the good, too.

Lately, I’ve started remembering the little things that actually help my brain feel better, instead of just helping me check out.

Things like:

• Taking a hot bath and letting my body unclench

• Packing a flask of tea and stomping up a hill, even for just 45 minutes

• Making plans with the people who remind me I’m not alone

• Repeating the reminder: This feeling isn’t forever. It will pass.

I think I forgot, somewhere along the way, that I already have tools for this. It’s just that stress and exhaustion made me put them down for a while. And that’s okay. What matters is that I’m picking them back up again.

Overwhelm, Plans & the Intentions That Backfire

Something I’ve also started realising is that my default response to overwhelm is to plan something nice to look forward to - a nice dinner, a trip in the camper, a walk, a treat, anything that feels like an escape. When things feel heavy, I want to step outside of it, even just for a little while. And I love the idea of bringing people I care about along for that reset.

But here’s where I’ve been getting it wrong: when someone else is already overwhelmed, my attempt to “help” by making plans just adds to their mental load. Even though I mean well, it must feel like pressure instead of relief.

Which is hilarious (and frustrating), because I do get it - I’ve absolutely planned myself into shutdown before. Too many social things, too many workout bookings, too many projects, and suddenly I’ve built my own overwhelm trap. But when it comes to helping others, I forget that not everyone wants to be whisked away when they’re drowning - sometimes they just need space to breathe and get on with their own shit.

So this is a friendly reminder to myself to try to:

• Check in before making plans with my loved ones: Would this feel helpful or like another thing to manage?

• Offer an out instead of an invite - “Hey, if you want a change of scenery, I’ll be here.”

• Recognise when I need an escape and find ways to give myself that, rather than assuming others need or want the same thing.

The Push-Pull Struggle

The more I learn about my own brain, the more I notice patterns - not just in myself but in the people around me too. Apparently, us spicy-brained humans are drawn to each other, which explains a lot and also makes me very happy.

One thing that keeps coming up is the clash between ADHD shutdown and Rejection Sensitive Dysphoria (RSD). When someone with ADHD gets overwhelmed, they can completely shut down - mentally, emotionally, even physically. It’s like their brain just pulls the emergency brake and says, “Nope. Can’t do this.” And when that happens, they might withdraw, go quiet, or need space. My way of coping with this is often, to cancel all plans and have a nap!

What I’ve realised though is that for someone who is massively impacted by RSD (hi, it’s me), that can feel like a knife to the chest. If you’re wired to be extra sensitive to rejection (even when none is intended), then someone pulling away can trigger all kinds of spirals: Did I do something wrong? Are they mad at me? Do they not care? Even when you know logically that it’s not personal, it feels deeply personal.

I’ve realised I need to work on separating someone else’s overwhelm from my own self-worth and remember that it works both ways - I’m not mad at ayone if I cancel last minute - I’m just not in a good place and need some alone time. Their need for space doesn’t mean I’m too much ( I mean, the amount I talk and things I get excited about probably is a bit much at times but hey, that’s me). It doesn’t mean they don’t care. It just means they’re at capacity. And I need to trust that when they come back, it’s not because they were forced to - it’s because they chose to.

When I really reflect on this, I can see this pattern across so many of my relationships - both romantic and platonic. Some of my closest friendships are the ones where we can go months without catching up, yet nothing changes when we do. I love that about my mates, so it only makes sense that the same logic applies to other relationships too.

So, I’m trying to:

• Remind myself: Their shutdown isn’t about me. It’s about them regulating.

• Remember all the simple things that bring me comfort.

• Communicate my own needs without making them feel like an obligation.

• Accept that sometimes, giving space is the best way to keep connection.

The Takeaway: Remember What Helps

If you’ve been in a place where you feel stuck - where your coping mechanisms feel more like quicksand than actual support - I get it. And I guess I wanted to share my brain fart with you in the hope it shows you there are things that help. Even if you don’t believe it right now. Even if it feels like too much effort. Even if you have to force yourself to do one tiny thing at a time.

You don’t have to fix everything overnight.

Just start by remembering what helps YOU.

And if you’re not sure?

Start by moving.

Go outside.

Pack a flask of tea.

☀️