Making Time for Yourself
Not So Easy with ADHD or Autism
For years, people told me, “You just need to make time for yourself.”
And I’d nod, smile politely, and think, Sure — I’ll squeeze that in somewhere between masking, parenting, working, and remembering to breathe.
If you’re neurodivergent, you probably know exactly what I mean.
Time isn’t this neat little thing you can organise into boxes — it’s a shape-shifter.
You either lose three hours hyper-focused on rearranging the cutlery drawer, or you forget to blink for an entire afternoon because your brain forgot to hit the “rest” button.
🌙 The Myth of Spare Time
Let’s be honest — I used to think “me time” was a mythical concept invented by people with quiet houses and matching mugs.
I remember my lovely mother-in-law gently advising me, you can read a book! I wonder what was running through her mind when i pulled an awful face at even the thought of being able to open a book. Haha!
In my world, “rest” was something that only happened after a full system shutdown — meltdown first, self-care second.
Then, one day, I caught myself shouting at the kids for being kids, sitting in the car crying because I couldn’t face going inside, and realised… maybe I wasn’t fine. Not, an easy thing to admit!
I’d been trying to survive by using everyone else’s idea of balance — planners, routines, perfectly colour-coded systems — and all it did was make me feel worse.
🌿 Learning to Rest (My Way)
I stopped trying to create time and started noticing the moments that were already there — the quiet 10 minutes before everyone wakes up, the way coffee tastes when it’s actually hot, the peace that comes from saying no without guilt.
Sometimes I light a candle and call it a ritual.
Sometimes I hide in the bath with my headphones on — same healing energy, if you ask me.
It doesn’t have to look spiritual to be spiritual.
Rest is self-respect, not a luxury.
🌸 What I Know Now
ADHD and autism don’t mean you can’t rest — they just mean your version of rest looks different.
Mine looks like messy hair, chipped nail polish, and five minutes of sitting still before my brain asks, “Are we done yet?”
And that’s okay.
Because rest isn’t about looking peaceful.
It’s about feeling safe enough to stop performing.
Reflection Prompt:
What’s one small way you can make peace with rest today — even if it’s chaotic, interrupted, or imperfect?