No I’m Not Lazy. I’m Just on Fire
(Understanding Executive Dysfunction and ADHD Burnout in Adult Women)
It’s 5:06 p.m.
My husband has left to pick up the kids and I’m standing in the kitchen, trying to decide if I should get started on the kids’ dinner or just wait until chaos walks in through the garage door.
I already know what’s coming. I always know what’s coming.
The screeching.
The backpacks thrown like grenades.
Someone sobbing about a pencil.
Someone else yelling about how their brother ruined their life.
The puppy eating a sock.
Someone demanding dinner.
Someone overstimulated. Probably me.
My brain tries to shift from therapist to mom. I’m predicting the sensory hell that’s about to descend and also reminding myself that my kids need me to help anchor them—that their nervous systems are fried from the day and they need co-regulation and safety.
I know this, I know what to do, and nothing is more important to me than doing this. And yet, the second the door slams and the yelling starts, my nervous system spikes like I didn’t prepare at all.
But I did prepare.
I just can’t execute. Not all of it. Not all at once.
Welcome to executive dysfunction.
I Know What to Do. I Just Can’t Do It.
Executive function is the part of the brain that helps us initiate, sequence, plan, prioritize, switch tasks, remember what we’re doing, make decisions, manage time, and regulate emotions. When it’s glitching—or overwhelmed from burnout, trauma, sensory overload, or just existing while neurodivergent—none of that happens smoothly.
Sometimes, nothing happens. Sometimes, everything happens all at once.
And here’s the kicker: executive dysfunction isn’t about not knowing how to function. It’s about not being able to—even when you know how. Even when you want to. Even when nothing matters more to you in the world.
And it feels like being held hostage in your own brain.
Inside the Chaos Spiral
I don’t yell at my kids or forget to give them the juice they’ve asked for three times because I don’t care. I do it because I’ve just made 14 split-second decisions before I even set their dinner down on the table.
Because someone needed a hug.
Because someone else was screaming.
Because the puppy was shredding paper in the next room.
Because something started burning in the toaster.
Because I’m trying to regulate myself while anchoring two other nervous systems who feel like they were designed to press every single one of my buttons.
Because my brain is triaging ten alarms at once and trying to prioritize what needs my attention first.
Because everything feels urgent and everything is on fire.
The Disconnect
This is the part people no one talks about:
I still look functional. I’m articulate, I care. I try. I start things. I know what to do.
But the inside doesn’t match the outside. The amount of effort it takes to do basic things is often astronomical. And when I can’t push through—or when I don’t execute things as well as I hoped to—I start to spiral.
Why can’t I just do it? I’ve done it before. I know better. What the hell is wrong with me?
Nothing. Nothing is wrong with me. But society has done a great job at telling me otherwise.
It’s Not You. It’s Your Brain.
Executive dysfunction is not a character flaw. It’s not a motivation issue. It’s not because you didn’t try hard enough. It’s a neurological reality of being neurodivergent. And it requires care, not critique.
So, no. It’s not laziness. It’s not forgetfulness. It’s not irresponsibility. It’s not a lack of willpower.
It’s executive dysfunction.
And it’s exhausting.
Do you feel held hostage by your executive dysfunction and don’t know what to do?
You deserve to get support from a therapist who’s been there too.
Learn more about working with me here.
