ADHD & more

Did You Know That Some People Literally Have No Thoughts?

The musings of someone with ADHD & her BMS-having best friend

I recently had a fascinating revelation when chatting with my best friend, Rachel. She told me that when her mind is idle, it’s actually idle. In other words, her mind is totally blank sometimes.

She doesn’t always have thoughts.

As someone who has the attention span of a dog on cocaine, I was incredulous.

Wait, some people experience mental tranquillity? Some people aren’t constantly thinking of something? So… what, is the inside of their head just a cavernous void full of dead flies and bits of fluff?

I was enthralled. A barrage of questions ensued as I tried to wrap my mind around the idea that someone just doesn’t think all the time. I’d heard of the expression “my mind’s gone blank”, heck, I’ve used it myself a time or two, but it was only recently that I realised that it was actually applicable to some people.

You see, I have ADHD. While I’m fairly chill and outwardly reticent, the inside of my skull resembles an arcade game tripping on acid in the middle of Times Square during the holidays. ‘Mental chaos’ would be an understatement.

From the moment I wake up until the moment I drift off, I am thinking of something. And 99% of the time, I’m thinking of multiple somethings that have little to do with each other simultaneously.

I cannot conceive an idle mind.

I’m probably the most imaginative person I know and yet when I try to imagine thoughtlessness, I’m rendered incapable.

I think that’s the reason why I can’t meditate.

As soon as I wake up in the morning, I get about 7 seconds of momentary confusion as I transition between slumber and consciousness and then the thought onslaught begins. Then, throughout the course of the day, the thoughts keep coming — multiplying like Mogwais when you get them wet.

You’d think I’d get some respite at night, right?

Niet.

The second my head touches the pillow, my mind starts performing somersaults. Thoughts that haven’t been relevant since Tony Blair was Prime Minister are suddenly regerminated as soon as it makes logical sense for me to switch off.

Remember when you wore that hideous pink lipstick to your 8th birthday party? I wonder if Miss Paice is still alive? Oh, I do hope they’re still serving sprinkle cake at lunchtime at my old junior school…

Most of the time it’s grandiose ideas.

I will decide at midnight that I’m going to learn to do the box splits and maybe audition for Cirque du Soleil, or learn to solder so I can install a home cinema in the house I’m renovating that doesn’t even exist yet. I gather ideas for bestselling novels like a bird gathers twigs for a nest.

I sleep to the sound of rainfall at night, to prevent me from staying awake until sunrise fixating on the sound of my own heartbeat.

I’ve also been known to watch the same film or episode of a show 3 or 4 times in a row. I just… put it back on again once it’s finished. If you’ve never spent 6 consecutive hours watching The Goonies, my friend, you’ve never lived.

The functions of an ADHD brain were a complete mystery to me until my diagnosis this year. I naively assumed for over 30 years that everybody was just like me.

Granted, I figured we all had different methods of coping with the complexities of a constantly active mind, but I had no idea that some people existed outside the neurodivergent spectrum prior to this. I guess because I didn’t realise that I existed within it.

(I always considered myself a thoughtful person, but this wasn’t what I meant.)

So when Rachel told me that she was prone to periods of being completely thoughtless, I was amazed. And, to be honest, inordinately envious.

There’s very little I wouldn’t give to not be a prisoner to my erratic neurodivergence sometimes.

How I would love to be able to begin a task without procrastinating and complete it in a concise and, more importantly, linear manner. Ordination is my nemesis.

I’m the type to become bosom friends with someone and then realise a week into our friendship that I don’t actually know their name.

• I’d love to not have 4 half-empty water bottles cluttering my desk at one time.
• I’d love for 12 of the 15 internet tabs I currently have open to not pertain to the wanton tangents I find myself on when I’m trying to focus on one important topic.
• I’d love for the other 3 to not have been open for weeks because I can’t bear facing them.

There are many ways in which I wish things could be different. I suppose that’s characteristic of humans in general.

However, I must say that having mental activity equivalent to tennis balls in a tumble dryer does come with its perks.

For one thing, life is never ever boring. I could be imprisoned in one of those white-walled rooms with no windows and still have a jolly good time, long after most people would’ve succumbed to lunacy. Alexa, play “Party in My Head” by September.

I stood in line at the supermarket this morning. To the people around me, I just looked like someone waiting to pay for their produce, but little did these unassuming spectators know that I was making up ridiculous rhymes about each of them in my mind whilst imagining myself centre-stage on Broadway.

“Oh sweet lady with the amiable face, in your pussy-bow blouse embroidered with lace… This guy’s taking forever to scan eggs and a kiwi, I wish he’d hurry up ’cause I’m dying for a weewee.”

Coming soon to a theatre near you.

I decided that I wanted my work here on Medium to reflect my innermost thoughts and the things I find interesting. I’ve journalled in the past but I appreciate the interactive nature of a platform like this.

Plus, I knew I was less likely to feel impostor syndrome since my content would be coming from the heart, so to speak.

When I first joined and was in my “look, don’t touch” stage, I discovered numerous articles detailing how to be successful on the platform. “Find your voice”, “Write about what you love”, “Find your niche and stick to it”…

I actually chuckle over the concept of niching oneself. For a person like myself, that is mightily challenging. Not because I don’t know how to niche, but because I and many other ADHD-havers find literally everything potentially interesting.

Now, obviously, ADHD presents itself differently in everyone. Some people experience symptoms from one end of the spectrum and some from the other. That said, there are some notable commonalities across the board, and one of them is:

Hobbies. Plural.

One of our greatest hobbies is accruing different hobbies.

To find someone with ADHD who does Chinese brush painting, rides Lipizzaner stallions, collects geodes, plays the glockenspiel, weaves sheep’s wool and deciphers hieroglyphs whilst maintaining a job at the local plant nursery is not altogether unusual.

The relentless pursuit of dopamine gives any fleeting interest the potential to become a hyperfixation that bores its way into our attention until it’s eclipsed by something else.

Imagine that, in an increasingly digitalised world that constantly churns out highly stimulating content.

So you’ve been warned. If the next few articles you see from me have absolutely no relation to each other or fall outside the realms of any conceivable “niche” — just know that you’re witnessing the manifestation of approximately 2 seconds’ worth of my thoughts on any given day.

Olé.

Want to see more of this type of content? Check out my other Musings here!

Thank you very much for reading! If you have any questions or comments, please feel free to leave them below.

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