This is what Rejection Sensitive Dysphoria can feel like
Last week, I launched the ADHD course that I'd poured my heart and soul into for the last 2 months. It's across 30 days, with daily 5 minute lessons designed for ADHD brains. Some are videos, some are exercises, some are group coaching sessions, all designed to be as long or short as needed.
Yesterday I woke up to an email complaining that the 3 videos provided so far weren't precisely 5 minutes long. This was ironic, as the hardest part was getting these videos down to a few minutes instead of hours.
My rational brain knew that videos are not entire lessons, they’re part of them, but the rest of my brain didn’t agree. Instead, it hijacked my vision with the Rejection Sensitive Dysphoria Movie™. Here’s how it went (ALL AT THE SAME TIME):
1. Ruminating on the entire course
I checked all the videos, which obviously were all different lengths. I dissected every lesson (non-videos included) for how terrible they were, wondered what on earth I was thinking, and felt a crushing sense of guilt and sadness for having thought I could do something like this.
2. Experiencing the 'ADHD tornado' of catastrophe
My brain started blasting shame at me from all angles like punches to the face. I assumed I'd missed this apparently important time factor out due to having time regulation issues with ADHD, which meant I was clearly badly placed to help anyone with their ADHD, which means I should probably stop ever talking about it and resign myself to a lifetime of failure, no matter how hard I tried.
There’s no way to describe this other than having your soul crushed. It feels melodramatic, then feels even more ridiculous because you know how much you’re overreacting. A lifetime of being called an attention seeking drama queen reverberated around my brain trying to cope with the feeling of being caught out for not being perfect.
It’s like the nightmare where you get to school and realise you forgot to put clothes on: you’ve finally been found out for the imposter you feel like you are.
3. Wanting to impulsively quit and run away
I couldn’t delete the entire course, because the other people may be unhappy if it’s suddenly gone. Instead, I felt like I was trapped in a cave of doom, where I’d be forced to watch in slow motion the judgement and disappointment of 60 people feeling scammed into thinking they were going to see 5-minute videos every day over the coming month.
I tortured myself with self-created previews, imagining every possible complaint I could to try and anticipate the inevitable. It turns out I'm my best critic.
4. Experiencing suffocating decision paralysis
My brain felt like it was split a million ways in trying to decipher what sort of action to take next. I debated redoing the entire course and filming new videos, but this would ironically take the lessons to over 5 minutes per day, which is why most people had signed up.
It's literally impossible to please everybody, but my brain still though it was worth giving it a shot.
5. Desperately seeking reassurance but also being terrified of it
I debated putting out a survey, an email, or some kind of justification explanatory apology for the videos not being precisely 5 minutes long. Then I debated asking individual people I knew were doing the course if it was okay, or if they wanted a refund for it being so terrible. Then I got overwhelmed at how many people there were on this course, and how long this would take.
This is so overwhelming to experience at once that it's literally impossible to put into words, so you stay silent, your throat literally blocked.
6. Feeling unable to ask for help
RSD can make you see things as ‘all or nothing’, holding some people to either impossibly high standards they could never meet, as this reaffirms your pain. I initially messaged some people I trusted, but my brain was so determined to discard any reassurance or potential pain that I couldn't process their responses.
Instead, my brain scanned over everyone else 'important' in my life, all of whom I’d offered free spots, 99% of whom hadn’t signed up. It felt the pain over and over again of each and each felt like a stab in the heart, imagining the reasons why they didn’t want to do it: because they knew me and knew what a waste of time it would be. Everybody from my family members to friends to people I trusted professionally.
My rational brain knew they probably just didn’t want to take up somebody else’s spot (or don’t even have ADHD), but my emotional brain didn’t care. My emotional brain had developed an entire narrative of how much they hated me and how alone I was. I couldn't even put it into words, as it felt so humiliating and painful.
It’s incredibly frustrating, and irrational, to feel unable to ask for help, as you literally imprison yourself in a cage of loneliness and self-pity - when there are so many people there who care!
7. Feeling like the world is crashing down
Objectively, I knew how irrational my thoughts were. But I couldn’t stop imagining the group coaching session, or a comment online, coming with a barrage of negative feedback about what I failure I am. I couldn’t stop imagining Facebook groups of thousands of ADHD-ers writing about how terrible the course is and how I’m scamming vulnerable people in relation to their ADHD, ironically whilst writing about it online.
My brain started writing imaginary google reviews and press pieces about the courses marketed as 5-minute lessons that are actually 3 minutes (if you ignore the exercises etc). Then I started beating myself up for thinking I’m so special that anybody would care enough to write this.
Then I started berating myself for trying to run a business, because feedback and failure is inevitable. I started freaking out about what the hell I was going to do in the future and replayed every single mistake and failure over and over in my head.
Before I knew it, I was having a panic attack, choking, crying, unable to breathe. I couldn’t believe how ridiculous I was being, but every time I thought this, my throat closed up even more.
8. Withdrawal
Ironically, I’ve been on holiday for the last few days, despite working for hours every day. There was literally nothing I wanted to do less than go and do yoga, but I didn’t want to draw any attention to myself. I was forced to sit and meditate, my face literally scrunched up and distorted to stop me from crying. It clearly didn’t work, as I felt an arm wrap around my shoulders.
This was maybe the most painful part of it all. ‘I AM FINE!!!’ I choked out through tears.
The amazing women I am on holiday with have far more serious problems than me. I was literally having a bloody panic attack because someone complained about how many minutes long some videos were. I did not deserve to cry and disrupt the yoga class and make a fuss and have people pity me. I deserved to crawl into a hole and sit there for eternity, and to never ever talk about ADHD ever again.
But this woman refused to stop hugging me, and eventually my throat and face started to unfreeze. I realised maybe I was offending her by sitting like a gargoyle and took her hand through my snot-ridden sleeve. I did the yoga class, refusing to repeat the affirmations as instructed and arguing back in my head (‘I DON’T FEEL INCREDIBLE. I AM NOT EXACTLY WHERE I AM SUPPOSED TO BE.'). At the end, all of these women came and hugged me, stroking my hair. ‘I’M LITERALLY FINE’, I choked out through hysterical crying, ‘THERE’S LITERALLY NO PROBLEM AT ALL! I’M FINE! SERIOUSLY!’.
One said, ‘that’s okay, even if you feel fine, your body is still releasing something.’ I realised I didn’t need to have a ‘good enough’ reason to feel so much pain. The initial email was painful, but I’d taken that pain and multiplied it by 100000 by denying myself the opportunity to feel upset on behalf of my very best efforts, and instinctively beating myself up instead. By trying to hide from any kindness, I was rejecting other people, to try and give myself a ‘good enough’ reason to be sad and prove myself right. It’s a really sad way of validating our own emotional dysregulation, in a society that says you should just ‘get over it’.
Ironically, the woman who initially hugged me thanked me, telling me how she needed to be there for someone else that day. Allowing others to support us isn't selfish: it's kind.
9. Feeling absolutely fine
This can be one of the most frustrating parts of RSD - like it never existed at all. You can experience such strong emotions, but within a few hours they're gone. For me, this meant I kept believing there was something seriously wrong with me, but I couldn't explain it as I was completely okay again by the time my throat had unclenched to talk about it.
For people who don't know what's happening to them, this can be terrifying. I firmly believe this is why the suicide risk is 5 times higher for people with ADHD: emotional dysregulation and impulsivity can combine to produce devastating results.
I am campaigning for emotional symptoms to be recognised as part of the official ADHD criteria, because this is preventing so many people from being able to access the support they need. It's resulting in misdiagnoses and death, people being written off as 'emotional' or 'dramatic', whilst suffocating in a silent prison of their own neurodevelopmental delay in executive functioning skills (including emotional regulation).
If you want to join a course on it, you can in October (just please be aware that each and every lesson may not be precisely 5 minutes long!) :Beat Rejection Sensitive Dysphoria in 30 Days (thinkific.com)
If you experience this tornado of hell, things that can help include:
Identifying what's happening
Writing yourself a letter (especially if you pretend to be your own lawyer)
Exercising
Sleeping
Eating
Doing something completely different, like watching a movie
GETTING AWAY FROM YOUR PHONE / THE INTERNET
Remembering it's okay to be upset about whatever you're upset about, and validating your own feelings (otherwise you will try to create a 'better' reason
Treating yourself like a very small child!
Seeking help in the ways you can. Other people care about you regardless of your 'mistakes' or 'failures', and they are there for you. It's a gift to them to allow them to be there for you: don't keep it from yourself or them.