By Johnathon Lee
Everyone struggles with meditation, but ADHD can turn it into an all-out war with yourself.
ASD + ADHD = WTF
I have what the kids are calling AuDHD—Autism Spectrum Disorder and Attention-Deficit Disorder. No one spotted my ADHD when I was young. The usual outer symptoms were overshadowed by the Autistic symptoms. They didn’t spot those either, but whatever, it’s fine. “Is it though?” Sure. I guess. Mostly.
Default Mode Network
Anyway… ADHD. Imagine that your mind is wandering. That should be pretty easy since it happens to everyone. It’s called the “Default Mode Network.” Catchy, I know. The DMN is a bunch of neural pathways that light up when we’re daydreaming, ruminating or being disconnected from our surroundings in general.
This sounds like a useless feature, like a cigarette lighter in a fire truck. However, it’s also responsible for problem solving and self-concepts. It provides the overall narrative of our lives and allows us to understand that other people also have inner lives. Some researchers call the DMN the seat of the self since, without it, we don’t have much access to ourselves.
The DMN usually gets quiet when we’re focused on a task. This allows distant parts of the brain to communicate with each other. If they synchronize, this can lead to a “flow state,” and flow states are freaking amazing.
Meditation suppresses the DMN too, and this can explain why meditative traditions emphasize selflessness and unity. You literally can’t think about yourself when the DMN shuts up. You have no autobiography; no episodic memories; no self-reference. So, any suffering that stems from those concepts disappears with the DMN. So, we could possibly call enlightenment a traumatic brain injury.
The DMN is different for people with ASD and ADHD (So many acronyms, lol). In ADHD, the DMN is competing with several other neural systems.
Your Mind On AuDHD
The mind isn’t just wandering; it’s wandering while also doing a thousand other things. Our attention is like a sea, with each wave waving at the same time. We sometimes bounce back and forth between the waves; most of the time we’re experiencing the whole thing all at once. Inner and outer tasks are all mixed together, all while the mind wanders and inner narrators (yes, it’s a committee) jabber on and on until the universe finally succumbs to heat death.
In Autism, the, uh… what was it? Oh yeah, the DMN. The DMN is also fragmented. This can hinder our ability to form cohesive self-concepts and interpret other people’s inner meanings on the fly. The more unruly the DMN is, the harder it is bridge the gap between the inner and outer worlds or even know who the hell you are at times.
Autistic meltdown is like your whole world shattering into countless cutting shards. You’re left with nothing but absence and the dread that this is how things always were and always will be. Autistic life is a process of self-assembly and the effort to find yourself among the noise.
A Warning To Teachers
When someone with ADHD or ASD says that they struggle with meditation, all of this is why. If you’re a meditation teacher, you need to be aware of this. “I’m finding it hard to focus/sit with myself,” means something very different for neurodivergent folks. It’s shorthand for, “I’m going through hell right now and I hate myself for it. Please help me.”
We’re not hiding that from you. We just can’t put it into words. And please, for the love of all things that I’d imagine are holy, never tell someone to get off their meds. I’m serious. I will come right into your Zendo and slap you off your designer zafu.
It’s Okay To Medicate and Meditate
The fact is that ADHD meds did for me what 11 years of Buddhism and 24 years of meditation couldn’t: help me sit. Help me find myself and feel mostly okay with being myself.
I’m on Guanfacine, a non-stimulant blood pressure med that’s also used to treat ADHD and Autistic emotional management problems. I’ll never forget when it started working.
Chemical Nirvana
I was in a depressive episode, which are common when your mind exhausts all your energy trying to focus on everything all at once. It slumps into a rumination cycle and intrusive thoughts become your only thoughts.
Then, it was like a fog lifted; a fog that I didn’t even see. I united with my past. I felt like part of my own life rather than estranged from it. I was suddenly living instead of being a step back, watching life happen. Finally present, I was able to see all of the experiences that brought me here. I saw myself grow and persevere. Life wasn’t a balancing act anymore. I realized that instead of “or,” things can be “and.”
I can’t express in a thousand poems how incredibly beautiful and transformative that was. It was like losing a weight that you’ve carried since you were born, so used to it that you thought it was normal. It was just life; the way things are. For that to vanish is an astonishing feeling. That was thanks to medication, and nothing else. So, don’t you dare tell me or anyone that they should do this without them.
I’ve been practicing Buddhism for over a decade, but I’m just getting started. I can do it now, the way that people without ADHD can. I can finish my projects. I wrote two poetry collections in two months. I’ve been able to stop obsessing over loneliness and abstract philosophical nonsense.
I’m here. I’m engaging my senses. I feel like myself.
The Flowing Self
With that in mind, it’s wise for us to frame selflessness carefully. I’m definitely not gonna let some guru ruin all of my hard work. I fought to have an ego. I went to war to form an identity. I’m not giving that up for Buddha or anyone else. It’s a Refuge.
What we need to teach is fluidity. Everything’s interdependent, so everything is changing. Flowing, if you will. “There is no self,” or, “There is One Self,” or, “True Self,” can all be positively dangerous to someone with ADHD or Autism since such views can lead to dissociation, derealization or even psychosis.
The work around is emphasizing the flowing self and contrasting it with an illusory concrete self, explaining how the mind uses concepts to solidify things that aren’t really solid. Change needs to be part of our identities, not a reason to ditch or deify them.
To My Neurodivergent Friends:
The neurodivergent mind loves flow and down-to-earth clarity. I am deeply grateful to finally be on a path. If you’re neurodivergent and struggling with meditation and mindfulness, don’t be ashamed to seek medicinal treatment. If Ritalin or Adderall don’t row your boat—or if they’re in short supply—please investigate non-stimulant options with your doctor.
Photo: Pixabay
Editor: Dana Gornall
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