ADHD isn’t a moral failing. But it’s not a free pass either.
Somewhere along the self-awareness path, we took a wrong turn. Instead of learning how to manage ADHD, many of us have started hiding behind it, blaming every missed deadline, flaked plan, or emotional outburst on our neurodivergence like it’s an invisibility cloak for consequences.
And let’s be honest: no one wants to be the villain who says, “That excuse is wearing thin.” But what if we need to say it? What if refusing to hold ourselves accountable is hurting our relationships, stalling our progress, and actually doing the ADHD community a disservice?
This isn’t a callout. It’s a reckoning, with compassion, realism, and just a pinch of devil’s advocate energy.
In this article, we’ll walk through ten painfully relatable examples where ADHD is often used to excuse behaviour that frankly needs a second look. And for each one, there’s a reality check and a gentle, doable suggestion. No shame. No fluff. Just grown-up honesty, served with a wry smile and a side of solutions
“I Ghost Everyone.…It’s My ADHD”
You open the message. You plan to reply. You don’t. The guilt builds, and suddenly you’ve not spoken to your friend, your boss, or your mum in three weeks. You tell yourself it’s ADHD, and maybe it is. But if that’s your default for every relationship, it’s time to pause.
Reality check:
ADHD can make communication overwhelming, but not impossible. If people only hear from you when you feel like it, they’ll eventually stop trying. At some point, the silence stops looking like a symptom and starts looking like selfishness.
Gentle suggestion:
You don’t need to write a novel. A single emoji. A voice note. A quick “I saw this, I’ll reply when I can.” Try batch messaging when you’ve got the energy. Or ask someone to help keep you socially accountable. You don’t have to reply to everyone, but don’t ghost the people who care.
“I’m Always Late….It’s Executive Dysfunction”
You genuinely mean to be on time. You get ready, you plan the day, and still, you’re late. Again. And again. You joke about it. People stop laughing. Eventually, you’re the unreliable one. The one people lie to about the start time. And you start believing lateness is just part of your identity.
Reality check:
ADHD may affect your internal clock, but being consistently late without trying to adjust it is just ignoring reality. Chronic lateness isn’t charming. It’s disruptive. It signals to others that their time matters less than yours, whether you mean it or not.
Gentle suggestion:
Set multiple alarms. Build in false deadlines. Tell yourself the appointment is earlier than it is. Keep shoes and keys by the door. You don’t need to be perfectly punctual, but showing effort matters. It tells people: I respect your time, even if my brain fights the clock.
“I Can’t Handle Feedback….It Feels Like an Attack”
Someone says something neutral: “Can we tweak this next time?” Your chest tightens. You spiral. You convince yourself you’re being criticised, picked apart, shamed. You say it’s your RSD, and maybe it is. But over time, you start rejecting all feedback – good, bad, or helpful.
Reality check:
Not every correction is criticism. Not every suggestion is rejection. If you can’t hear anything without shutting down, the problem isn’t always external. At some point, you have to ask: am I protecting my sensitivity, or avoiding growth?
Gentle suggestion:
Start small. Ask for positive feedback alongside constructive points. Let a trusted person “buffer” hard truths. Reframe feedback as a kindness, not an attack. And remind yourself: being teachable doesn’t make you weak, it makes you worth investing in.
“I Never Finish Anything.…It Got Boring”
You start strong. You make a plan. You dive in. Then suddenly it’s Thursday, you’re on a new project, and last week’s big idea is collecting digital dust. You say your ADHD made you bored. Fair. But is everything boring once it requires effort?
Reality check:
Yes, ADHD brains crave novelty. But life is full of boring bits. We don’t get to abandon ship every time the dopamine runs dry, especially when other people are counting on us to finish what we start.
Gentle suggestion:
Break tasks into tiny parts. Reward yourself along the way. Rotate between projects to stay stimulated without dropping them completely. Or rope in someone who’ll cheer you on when it gets dull. You can chase dopamine and still keep your promises.
“I Can’t Do Housework….It’s Overwhelming”
The dishes stack. The laundry piles. You tell yourself it’s too much. You freeze. You avoid the room. You put it off again. Then again. Then a month’s gone by and the chaos now feels normal, and too big to fix.
Reality check:
ADHD can turn basic chores into emotional mountains. But doing nothing about it long-term stops being a struggle and becomes a choice. Especially if it affects your health, your family, or your ability to function.
Gentle suggestion:
Pick one thing. One corner. One mug. Set a five-minute timer. Put on a cleaning playlist or use body-doubling videos. Ask a friend to come sit while you tidy. Your house doesn’t need to be spotless, it needs to feel safe and manageable. And that starts with one small win.
“I Spend Recklessly….My Brain Made Me Do It”
You open your bank app and wince. You didn’t mean to spend £48 on snacks and novelty socks. But the dopamine hit was nice… for five minutes. Now you’re in overdraft, again, and your savings plan is a Pinterest board, not a real thing.
Reality check:
Impulse spending is a common ADHD trait, but if you’re constantly broke and still tapping the card, it’s not just about your brain. It’s about your habits. And habits can be changed.
Gentle suggestion:
Use spending blockers. Freeze your card. Give yourself a waiting period before buying non-essentials. Track your expenses, even the silly ones. Budgeting might feel restrictive, but done right, it’s freedom in disguise. You can’t always trust your impulses, but you can build systems that second-guess them.
“I Cancel Plans Last Minute….Social Stuff Drains Me”
You said yes to dinner. It sounded lovely at the time. Now it’s an hour away and your body feels like lead. You cancel. Again. They say it’s fine. But you know they’re disappointed. You say you’re protecting your energy. But are you also just dodging the discomfort?
Reality check:
Boundaries are important, but so is reliability. If you never show up, people will stop inviting you. Saying yes then vanishing isn’t self-care, it’s emotional whiplash for the people trying to include you.
Gentle suggestion:
Only commit to what you can realistically do. Build “maybes” into your language. Let people know your capacity might change, and tell them early. It’s okay to prioritise your wellbeing. But don’t leave others in the dark while you do it.
“I Interrupt People….I Can’t Help It”
The thought strikes and you have to say it. You jump in, mid-sentence, full of excitement or urgency. It’s not rude, you tell yourself, it’s just your ADHD. But after a while, people stop sharing things with you. Or worse, they stop talking altogether.
Reality check:
Impulse control is a challenge, but it doesn’t make you incapable of respect. If people feel steamrolled every time you speak, that’s not their problem – it’s yours.
Gentle suggestion:
Jot your thoughts while others talk. Use a “talking stick” in group chats. Acknowledge when you interrupt and give space back. Listening is a skill, and like most skills, it can be learned, even if it’s hard-won.
“I Can’t Handle Admin….It’s My Kryptonite”
Forms. Bills. Emails. You put them off, then dread them, then miss them altogether. You panic when reminders come, but still don’t act. You say it’s ADHD paralysis, and it is. But how long will you let it run your life?
Reality check:
Admin isn’t fun for anyone. But ignoring it doesn’t make it disappear. It just creates bigger messes, tighter deadlines, and more avoidable stress.
Gentle suggestion:
Start with a “Ten Minute Admin Sprint.” Do one tiny task per day. Create a boring admin playlist to get you in the zone. Ask someone to sit with you while you work through the pile. You don’t need to love paperwork. You just need to stop letting it bury you.
“I Messed Up….But It Was My ADHD”
You forgot the deadline. You double-booked. You lost the thing that mattered to someone else. You apologise, but quickly add, “Sorry, ADHD.” It feels honest. But sometimes it also feels like a shield.
Reality check:
ADHD explains why something happened, but it doesn’t excuse the impact. People can still feel hurt, inconvenienced, or let down, even if your intention was never harm.
Gentle suggestion:
Own it first. Say “I messed up,” full stop. Then, if needed, explain the context. Focus less on what went wrong and more on how you’ll prevent it next time. Accountability isn’t about blame. It’s about trust, and it grows when people see you’re trying, not deflecting.
And if you’re someone who leans spiritual, you’ll already know you weren’t plonked on this planet by accident. You’re here for a reason. So make it count.
And if you’re not the spiritual type? That’s alright too. You’re still here for a reason. You still matter. So build a life that works for you, not against you. ADHD and all.
Another article talking about accouuntabilty that may interest you Autism or Alibi? Late Diagnosis Meets Years of Misconduct
