How’s your sense of direction?
Do you get lost in your own neighborhood?
Does your office look like a tornado blew through it—twice?
You might be space-blind like me. I wasn’t made for drawing, designing, or putting things together by hand because my visual-spatial abilities have more holes than Swiss cheese. ADHD saw to that. Allow me to explain.
My brain struggles to understand where things are—how far they are from me, from each other, what order they need to go in, and so on. This is why I can’t throw or catch to save my life, why I grossly misjudge time and distance, why I need GPS for a trip to the grocery store, and why organizing my office feels like trying to solve a Rubik’s Cube blindfolded.
If something needs to be assembled from written instructions, I immediately enter delegate mode because no matter how clear the diagram, my brain just… refuses to cooperate. Of course, every now and then, I miraculously put something together correctly, but it’s a complete mystery how or when that will happen again.
And don’t get me started on creating memes and reels. I stare at the screen, frozen, because I have no clue which objects go well together, how big they should be, or whether things are aligned properly. Throw in color blindness, and it’s basically a modern art experiment.
But here’s the thing: The more you understand your unique skill gaps, the better you can self-advocate—and, more importantly, the more you can cut yourself some slack.
Simply knowing you have ADHD tells you almost nothing about yourself. That’s like saying, I have a car. Cool. But does that tell you how to drive it, what kind of gas it needs, how fast is too fast, or when it’s going to overheat for absolutely no reason? Nope.
Discovering what works for you starts with understanding yourself—your strengths, your struggles, and what’s going to give you the quality of life you actually want.
Now, if you’ll excuse me, I need to figure out where I put my phone. Again.