I was at a meeting the other night that had about 25 people in the room, with half as many conversations happening at the same time. I was off to the side with two others, and we were talking about our kids and how fortunate they are to be in a school system that actually understands what it means to be neurodivergent and has the services to support them.

One person in the group didn't fully understand why those services were necessary. I mentioned that I have ADHD. While I did fine in school, I definitely would've benefited from teachers and environments that understood what was going on. That's when he asked me what it's like dealing with ADHD as an adult.

As soon as he asked, it was like a curtain lifted. Suddenly, I became acutely aware of how my brain was handling the situation. I could describe it in real time, which also explained why I always felt so drained after events like this.

First, I told him to picture an extremely busy traffic intersection. There are lights that let cars go in different directions, some that allow left turns, and there might be signs that limit right turns due to pedestrian flow or congestion.

Now imagine that same intersection with no lights and no signs. That's ADHD. At least for me.

So, I said: “We're having a conversation. For most people, when they're talking to someone, they're just in the conversation. They're not thinking about the act of conversing. Me? I'm in it and I'm also thinking about being in it.”

There were three of us talking.

Who should I look at?

Should I switch back and forth?

Am I staring too much?

What do I do with my hands?

Where are my feet pointing?

Crap—my right leg's cramping. I need to shift.

Meanwhile, the room has about ten other conversations going on, and my brain is taking in pieces of every single one. At least two of them I plan to follow up on after I finish this conversation.

Oh, wait—don't focus too much on those.

Stay present.

You're in this conversation.

Don't lose track.

Don't look like an idiot.

Also, I was in charge of food tonight and cleaning the kitchen area afterward. But I have an early morning meeting, so I'll need to leave before this meeting ends. That means I should probably start cleaning a little early. But there are two people I wanted to talk to based on those other conversations while I was in this one…

Wait—what was I saying again?

Since I was explaining this out loud, it took a solid minute to get it all out in a way that made sense. But internally? That entire sequence ran through my head in about three seconds.

The guy just looked at me and said, “That must be exhausting.”

Yes. Yes, it is. And I'm 54. I know exactly what's happening. Now imagine a five-year-old in kindergarten who doesn't.

That's why we need the programs that exist now. The programs I didn't have. And when I see the Department of Education under attack, with funding slashed left and right, I don't just get angry, I get scared. Not for me, but for this generation.