My role as an Assistant Community Manager for an HOA management firm often tests the limits of my ADHD and autism at work. One day this week was really tough, but also shows how seemingly small disruptions and discomforts stack up for someone like me, especially in a traditional office environment.
On the day in question, I had to work really hard to get going at work – productivity power was in the toilet after getting a poor night’s sleep. I had a board meeting go until about 8:30 pm the night before, and as someone who needs at least three hours after work to decompress enough to relax and be fully home with myself on a normal day, it wasn’t great that this was a late night with my most antagonistic community. I was already starting this day behind the ball.
When One Interruption Derails Everything
After finally gathering enough molecules of dopamine to start something at work, a board member for one of my communities called my personal cell phone to ask me to do something he could easily do himself on Google Maps. Furthermore, he’s calling my personal phone and I’m still livid that my area manager and community manager gave this number out without checking with me first.
After I got off the phone with him, I broke down crying and sat in the car to collect myself. The frustration and anger were fighting for importance and leaking out of my eyes, and I needed space to just be upset about it. It wasn’t just the entitlement and inane nature of his request, or that my personal/professional boundaries around cell phone use continue to be violated. It was that I’d already worked so hard to get myself going – and now that I was upset (dysregulated) and hungry (lunchtime), I knew it would take just as long, if not longer, to catch my flow again.
ADHD and Autism at Work: The Shame No One Sees
There’s also an incredible amount of shame that I still carry around my ADHD and other disabilities. Shame is one of the least talked-about parts of being neurodivergent at work. Why can’t I just sit down at my desk and do the work? Why does it take me so many different tricks, snacks, and caffeinated beverages to do tasks that other people don’t seem to struggle with? Why do I struggle to process verbal instructions so badly? Why is focus so fleeting and ephemeral to me, instead of something I can control? Why can’t I just ignore the natural distractions of the workplace? I can ask the question however I want but the core of it is – why can’t I just be normal? Why can’t I just be less difficult? How do I exist as I am without sacrificing professional advancement and job security?
I’m trying to give myself a little grace though. A few years ago, I wouldn’t have known why I had a meltdown after that call. I wouldn’t know that I was reacting to the specific and varied frustrations of knowing my focus is really weak today, thinking the request was silly, feeling like I need to enforce/reinforce a personal/professional boundary around my phone number, and knowing that I’m going to have to do all the little steps to make myself focus all over again which take time I don’t feel like I have. Before proper diagnosis, years of therapy, and medication, I wouldn’t know I probably need to speak to HR to at least get my disabilities on record, so that my request earlier in the week to get my desk moved to a more quiet corner of the office is seen as the accommodation it really is, not me being antisocial or difficult. This is what workplace accommodations for ADHD and autism actually look like in practice. Self-advocacy and awareness help, but they’re also work – work that’s invisible and exhausting in its own way.
What Returning to the Office Has Made Clear
This is my first time back in a traditional office setting in 6 years – cubicles, fluorescent lights, the whole 9. The transition is highlighting the things I struggle with in a way that makes it really easy for me to understand why I felt so burnt out and unable to succeed in my early 20s. I struggle with auditory processing – no wonder phone calls give me anxiety, and why the best phone service I give is simple stuff like “are you open”, and why I didn’t notice this problem for years using Zoom with subtitles for all meetings and having almost no complex phone calls. I have focus problems – of course I work better in the least disturbed environment possible, like my home where I live alone. I have a hard time grasping small social cues and frankly, find a lot of social interaction exhausting and unnecessary – it’s not a surprise that I excel in roles that have as little customer service needs as possible. Returning to in-person work has highlighted challenges I could manage more easily in remote roles.
It’s very clear that I need help to succeed in my current role, and/or the importance of being strategic about where I end up next.
Understanding My Limits Is Its Own Kind of Stability
Being back in an office has forced me to see my limits clearly, and that clarity is incredibly valuable. It tells me what kind of support I need, what environments I do best in, and what I can stop apologizing for. I may still have hard days like this one. But at least now, I understand why and that knowledge is a form of stability I didn’t have before. Right now, that matters more to me than pretending I can power through what was never designed for me.
