Living Alone with ADHD: the Good, the Bad and the Ugly
By Natalie Gottret Murillo
The Reality
As I write this, I am sitting on my couch on a sliver of space, having pushed laundry to the side. To my far right, there’s a sink full of dirty dishes, and next to it, there is a drying rack stacked Tetris-style with clean ones that never quite made it to the cabinets. Near the door sits my suitcase, still unpacked from my trip to Florida; it has been over a month. But I can’t put them away because I can’t even see the floor of my closet, across from my unmade bed. It’s Friday night, and I stayed in alone because I wanted to clean, but— of course—that didn’t happen. This is my reality of living alone with ADHD.
It’s not always bad, I swear! I take real pride in my apartment; I built every piece of furniture here myself, and I’ve chosen every decor item to match the vibe of my Pinterest boards—well, that is, when it’s clean. My place goes through cycles: it gets messy, and then one night, often late when I should be sleeping, I will tackle the entire apartment. The end result feels like a breath of fresh air. I always realize how little time it took me and how easy it would be if I would just do it. That is the key phrase:
Just do it
I am not talking about the Nike slogan. I mean the advice I hear my mom say whenever I procrastinate on a menial task that needs to be done but that I have been putting off for months. My brain, however, does not let me just do it. Tasks that usually take a few minutes to complete become my biggest enemy. I admit I am 23, and my parents still have to hound me for months to just do simple tasks that adults should be doing on their own by now. While it can be frustrating, it is comforting to know there is a reason behind this, and it’s called task paralysis. Brooke Whitfield-Fattovich wrote a wonderful article on task paralysis and details the symptoms very well.
Loneliness
I graduated college last year, so this is my first big-girl apartment to accompany my first big-girl job. Living alone has been a huge adjustment. For starters, I’m the only one holding myself accountable. For the past four years, I have had many roommates, which meant shared spaces. Sure, my room could get messy, but at least I was cautious about leaving the common spaces clean out of respect for others. Without that extrinsic motivation, I realize my intrinsic motivation isn’t always enough.
I also have a far less robust social life than I did a year ago. As I said, in college, I had roommates; my best friends lived with me or were a maximum 10-minute walk from me. Social plans were always happening so effortlessly. Now, living alone with many of my friends scattered across the country, I am not super incentivized to make plans. I also haven’t met many new people—making friends as an adult feels like a mystery to me. (If anyone has tips, I’m all ears!)
In your early twenties, people tell you to live life to the fullest, but no one warns you that it can be lonely sometimes.
When I do make plans, I end up canceling a lot. I’ve always been known as a bit of a flake, but in college, my friends would drag me out, and I’d always have fun. Now, there’s no one to coax me off the couch and away from whatever TV series I’m binge-watching.
All that being said, living alone has helped me get comfortable with being by myself. I’ve gained so much independence.
Learning Independence
Despite everything I’ve shared here, when people ask me if I like living alone, my answer is yes! In fact, I can’t imagine going back to having a roommate. Since I often have task paralysis or exhibit a lot of behaviors associated with inattentive ADHD,
I used to rely on others to do responsible things. My parents would wake me up for school until I graduated high school! In college, I had great friends who would push me to go to class and clean my room (shout out to them). My best friend would sit on my bed and just hang out with me as I cleaned my room because she knew I wouldn’t do it otherwise. I always had others to motivate me, but I never truly did anything for myself.
For the first time, everything I do is for me and initiated by me. Clearly, I’m not the best at doing it consistently and regularly, but I have learned a lot, and when I complete the things I am supposed to, I am so proud.
I’ve also had to face my indecisiveness. Decision-making, big or small, has always been a challenge for me. Indecision is very common in people with ADHD. In the past, I’d defer to my friends for everything, from where to eat to what to watch, and I was happy just following along. As silly as it sounds, having to choose those simple things myself has been really tough, but it needs to be done, and no one is there to make those decisions for me. By now, not only do I not feel uncomfortable about the decisions I make by myself, but I am also more vocal about decisions when I am in a group!
Living alone has made me more comfortable with solitude. I have activities that don’t just fill the day but leave me feeling fulfilled. Whether it’s shopping, reading, painting, or starting a new show, I now look forward to making plans with myself.
Things I Have Learned Since Living Alone:
1. Every completed task is a win, no matter how small.
I am sure I am not the only one who will say to themselves that tomorrow is the day they will get their life together. I say, “Tomorrow, I am going to do the dishes, wash my clothes, fold the laundry, go to the gym, adopt a 7-step skincare routine, pay my bills, drink enough water, cook, and meal plan.” Thinking that I can accomplish all of that in one day sets me up for disappointment. Even if I do all those tasks the next day, the odds that those habits will stick are very slim. Instead, I now take pride in completing one thing at a time.
2. Tasks that seem daunting rarely take as long as I fear.
Laundry might sit in a pile for days, weeks, even, but folding it usually takes under 20 minutes once I start. The guilt I feel during that waiting period is rarely worth it.
3. Only I can ensure I do the things I need to do.
The satisfaction of achieving something solely for myself, however small, is unmatched.
4. To not compare myself to my neuro-typical friends or to things I see on social media
I always envied my friends, who could keep their rooms clean at all times. I would think, what is in the water they are drinking? And can I have some? I would also see videos on TikTok of people with pristine and aesthetically pleasing apartments where everything is satisfyingly organized. But I remind myself that maybe their places aren’t pristine 100% of the time, and even if they are, that’s okay—it’s just not my reality right now.
Natalie Gottret Murillo (She/Her) was born in La Paz, Bolivia, and grew up in the suburbs of Washington, D.C.. She graduated from Penn State with a Bachelor of Science in Psychology and is currently working as a Clinical Research Coordinator at an Ivy League University. Natalie has a passion for mental health advocacy and research.
