It looks like withdrawal. It feels like protection.

It looks like withdrawal. It feels like protection. The reality is, it leaves you vulnerable.

Divorce is supposed to be the moment your friends show up. The group chat. The bottle of wine on the doorstep. The "come round whenever, day or night."

For a lot of ADHD people going through divorce, that is exactly what they want too, in theory. But having friends around you means having to deal with awkward questions, even worse, difficult opinions. At a time when you are running on less than empty, you just don't have the energy to mask to deal with the inevitable conversations.

So instead of calling the friend who'd drop everything, you go quiet. You don't reply to the "how are you doing really" text, because answering honestly feels like handing someone a reason to see you differently. You cancel the coffee because you can't face being asked how you're coping when you don't know yet.

The ground doesn't feel solid underneath you. You don't know what or who you can trust anymore. It just feels safer to keep your distance than risk losing more than you already feel you have.

And it means the people going through the most isolating legal process most of us could ever face are often the ones least able to reach for support while it's happening.

This is part of why I built ADHD coaching into the divorce process itself — not instead of your friends, not instead of your solicitor, but as somewhere the RSD and overwhelm don't get to make the decision for you. Somewhere you don't have to perform being okay.

If this was you right now, what would showing up actually look like — the version that would help you feel safe enough to reach out, mask off?