There’s a rhythm to how I live my life—one shaped by neurodivergence, physical limitations, and the unique path I walk as someone who is late diagnosed with AUDHD. I’m constantly navigating the world as it is, while trying to help people understand how to work within my limitations. But sometimes, it feels like I’m speaking a language no one else wants to learn.
When I try to explain myself—my differences, my needs—and I hear “Quit repeating yourself” or “I know already,” it feels like a door slamming shut in my face. That dismissal cuts deeper than anyone may realize. It doesn’t just stop me in the moment—it pushes me to hide the things I shouldn’t have to hide, especially the physical struggles I’ve been dealing with since my car accident. And when I hide those struggles, when I mask the pain and keep moving forward as if everything’s fine, it’s not just bad—it can be dangerous.
Living With Pain That No One Sees
Here’s the reality: my pain tolerance is high, my stubbornness is even higher, and my need to meet the expectations of others often wins out over protecting myself. When I push past what I should be doing, the consequences are brutal. I end up physically hurting in ways that drain me emotionally, leaving me feeling broken, useless, and disconnected from who I am. The shame I feel in these moments lingers—it whispers that I’m inadequate, a failure for not being able to meet even the simplest of expectations. And worse, often the harm isn’t just temporary—it adds up, creating a cycle where each step forward feels heavier than the last.
The Weight of Repetition
But the pain doesn’t stop there. I hate repeating myself for so many reasons, far beyond the dismissive responses. When I repeat myself, it makes it glaringly obvious that I’m different. That difference feels like a spotlight shining on the parts of me that aren’t seen as desirable or wanted—or most painfully, the parts of me that seem to have no worth. When I repeat myself, it feels like I’m drawing attention to those differences that others tolerate at best and reject at worst. It’s a constant reminder of what I feel I can never truly escape.
Why Repeating Myself Takes So Much Out of Me
Repeating myself is hard for me in ways others don’t see. My thoughts often cycle endlessly, locking me into loops of circular thinking that are difficult to break free from. When I finally manage to express myself, it takes so much effort just to get the words out once. To have to repeat those words feels like a confirmation that I didn’t explain it right—that the fault lies with me. I don’t see it as their misunderstanding—I see it as my failure. And when I start blaming myself, it’s overwhelming. If I’m the common denominator in these repeated conversations, it must be my shortcoming, my inability to communicate, my flaw.
The Emotional Toll of Not Feeling “Right”
Sometimes, though, the repetition isn’t just about clarity. It’s tied to so many other things—emotions that are hard to process, the weight of the message itself, or even a nagging feeling that something isn’t quite right. That feeling has yet to be wrong. There are moments when I don’t even know what feels wrong, but it lingers all the same, pushing me into the cycle of repeating myself in an effort to make it feel right. But when those efforts fail, it feels like there’s no point in being anything other than what they want me to be—like my differences are not only unwanted but completely invalidated.
How Masking Hurts More Than It Helps
And then, the masking intensifies. When my explanations are dismissed, when my repetition is met with impatience, I retreat into a version of myself that feels safer—but isn’t truly me. I bury my physical pain behind a facade of strength. I silence my neurodivergence to meet the expectations placed on me. I become what I think they want, not because it feels right but because it feels necessary to avoid further hurt.
Masking isn’t a solution—it’s a survival mechanism. And the damage it does is profound. Masking takes an immense toll on me, leaving me mentally drained, emotionally exhausted, and deeply isolated. It disconnects me from my authentic self, making it harder and harder to truly open up to anyone. I start to question who I actually am because I’ve hidden so much of myself for so long. At times, the toll of masking and hiding has made me physically ill, and even then, I’m so practiced in concealment that I wait until I’m alone to show it.
This makes me wonder: does handling everything alone and being what the world wants me to be serve me better than honesty? Is it safer to just wear the mask and become the person they expect, or to risk rejection by being truthful, by being me? Am I destined to be alone, even when I’m with someone? I don’t want to lie. I don’t want to hide who I am. But when I’m truthful, when I expose the most vulnerable parts of myself, rejection seems inevitable. And that rejection stings in ways words can’t fully capture.
The Vulnerability of Repeating Myself
What people don’t realize is that when I repeat myself, I’m not just explaining my neurodivergence or physical limitations—I’m trusting them enough to let them in. That trust isn’t easy for me, especially when the world I grew up in was cruel to anyone who dared to be different. Being late diagnosed means I’ve perfected the art of masking to survive, but opening up? That’s harder. When I do, it takes immense effort—and it’s devastating when that effort is met with dismissal.

This is what society has caused, the thought that people can be changed if they try hard enough. It makes it hard to do the most important thing. Accept ourselves. When I withdraw it is because I don’t know what someone expects me to be so I can’t be that. Or it goes against who I am so much that I just shut down to the bare minimum and become a living representation of “should be seen but not heard”. Here on this website I get to be heard and not cast aside because I am broken. Some of these things that are done actually are what make me broken not what I am under what you want me to be. Eventually one day will I lose who I am and truly be broken? Some days this is all that goes through my head, what did I do wrong? Did I say something wrong? Did I make things weird? Those are just the first few and this is without interacting with someone. It is so much worse when the world seems determined to say you are wrong, you need to conform, you do not fit in with society…. these are the days I can not lift my head or eyes without struggling hard to force my body to hide the discomfort even that can bring. I do not repeat myself because I want to. I repeat myself because something is not being heard in what I am saying. Maybe it is just acceptance I crave but is that even possible?

yes my mind is down the darker rabbit hole today. the insomnia that comes with this makes it even worse. Eventually i hit the bottom and can start climbing back up. I always do, just takes longer each time and is harder. I am good at hiding who I am, I am really good at it. I can be what you want me to be, but do you want me to be that ideal in your brain or a person who is an individual and trusts you will catch me and just accept me as me. Is it possible to be accepted like that by anyone? I haven’t felt it, come close but I always fail in some way and get left behind.

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