I worked. I looked after my family. I dealt with responsibilities. I got things done. If I was tired, I pushed through. If I was overwhelmed, I pushed through. If work was stressful, I pushed through. If I didn't feel like talking to anyone, being around anyone, or doing anything at all, I usually pushed through that too.
I became very good at functioning when I probably wasn't actually okay.
And because I could keep going, I assumed I was supposed to.
I thought everyone felt like this I didn't really question why some things seemed to take so much out of me.
I'd get through a busy day at work and have absolutely nothing left afterwards.
I'd spend all day dealing with people, decisions, problems and interruptions, then wonder why I didn't want to talk when I got home. Sometimes even simple things felt ridiculously hard.
Replying to a message.
Making a phone call.
Deciding what to have for dinner.
Going somewhere I'd already agreed to go.
None of those things looked particularly difficult from the outside.
So when they felt difficult, I assumed the problem was me.
I needed to try harder.
Be more organised.
Stop overthinking things.
Get on with it.
And that's exactly what I did.
The problem with pushing through is that it works - at least for a while.
That's probably why it took me so long to recognise what I was doing.
You can borrow from tomorrow to get through today.
You can keep saying yes when you really need to say no.
You can force yourself through social situations when your social battery is already empty.
You can keep working when your brain has stopped cooperating.
You can ignore the headache, irritability, brain fog, anxiety and exhaustion.
You can keep doing that for quite a long time.
Until eventually you can't.
That was something I didn't understand.
I thought capacity was about whether I was physically capable of doing something.
Can I do it?
What I've slowly learned is that there's another question that's just as important: What is doing it going to cost me?
Those are two very different things. I'm getting better at noticing I still push through.
Probably more often than I should. Sometimes I still don't realise I'm overloaded until I'm already irritable, exhausted or completely done with everyone.
But I'm much more aware of the signs now.
I notice when my social battery is disappearing.
I notice when simple decisions start feeling harder.
I notice when everything suddenly feels irritating.
I notice when my brain starts jumping between things without actually getting anything done.
And I'm starting to understand that those things aren't random. They're information. They're my body and brain telling me something about how much capacity I have left.
That doesn't mean I can always stop. Life doesn't work like that. There are jobs that still need doing.
There are bills, kids, work, appointments and responsibilities. Sometimes pushing through genuinely is the only option.
But knowing I'm pushing through changes what I do afterwards.
Maybe tonight isn't the night to get another ten things done.
Maybe I don't need to feel guilty about sitting down.
Maybe saying no to something isn't being antisocial.
Maybe I actually need some quiet.
That's part of why I built AuDHD Companion
A lot of AuDHD Companion has come from trying to understand these patterns in myself.
Not because I've figured everything out.
I definitely haven't.
It's because I wanted somewhere I could look at the bigger picture.
Sleep Energy Anxiety Overwhelm Sensory load Social battery Brain fog
The things that can seem unrelated when you're just trying to get through the day, but often aren't unrelated at all.
I didn't want another app telling me I hadn't completed enough tasks or maintained my streak.
I've spent enough of my life feeling like I should be doing more.
I wanted something that helped me understand why today feels harder than yesterday.
And sometimes the answer might simply be: You've been pushing through for too long.
I'm still learning
There are things I understand about myself now that I wish I'd understood years ago.
There are also things I'm probably doing right now that I'll understand completely differently in another year.
That's okay.
That's really what I want these reflections to be about.
Not advice from someone who has everything figured out. Just my experience. The things I've learned. The things I'm still learning. And occasionally, the things I wish someone had explained to me much earlier. Because I'm starting to realise that understanding my capacity isn't about finding another way to squeeze more out of myself. It's about recognising when I've already given enough.