My Inner AuDHD Dynamic by Dr Neff
From Dr Neff https://neurodivergentinsights.com/
As I’ve reflected more on my own inner AuDHD ecosystem, I’ve been able to articulate more nuances on how I relate to these parts:
I trust my Autistic part far more than I trust my ADHD part.
I tend to treat my ADHD part like an unruly teenager — impulsive, unreliable, in need of structure and discipline. Meanwhile, my Autistic part gets cast as the responsible adult: thoughtful, consistent, keeper of routines and values.
There’s a familiar inner exchange between them:
Autism: “What kind of mess are you going to get us into now?”
ADHD: “Relax — it’ll all come together.”
Autism: “Yeah… because I’ll do the cleanup!”
I am learning to soften this dynamic. To approach my ADHD part with more curiosity and gentleness. Because this part isn’t just chaos — it’s also the part of me that most easily accesses awe. Imagination. Novelty. Play. It’s the part that helps me dream big and make unexpected connections. And I don’t want to lose that.
But I also know that when this part takes the wheel without support, it can lead to overcommitting, scattered energy, and burnout.
So the question I keep circling back to is this:
How do I build a life that honors both the part of me that longs for ritual … and the part that thrives in spontaneity?
A Psychoanalytic Frame and a Playground Metaphor
During my psychological training, one of the most formative books I read was Ritual and Spontaneity in the Psychoanalytic Process by Irwin Z. Hoffman.
In therapy, we talk a lot about the frame — the consistent structure that holds the therapeutic process. It's not just about session times or fees — it's about creating a container where something real, spontaneous, and healing can unfold.
If the frame isn’t sturdy, spontaneity can feel disorienting and threatening. But with a strong enough frame? Play, risk, and deep connection become possible.
This framework has shaped how I think about boundaries — not as rigid walls that keep others in or out, but as containers that allow for more safety, depth, and authenticity. Good boundaries don’t restrict; they support authentic engagement. They make room for fuller presence — with ourselves and others.
Which brings me back to my AuDHD inner world.
My Autistic parts crave structure and ritual.
My ADHD parts thrive in spontaneity and novelty.
So what if — instead of pitting them against each other — I invite my Autistic part to help build the container for spontaneity?Rituals as scaffolding.Boundaries as support beams. A safe playground, not a rigid schedule.
Where This is Showing Up in My Life
When I first became self-employed, I leaned all the way into spontaneity — wanting to build a life that was interest-based and PDA-friendly. I let go of structure and external demands almost entirely. And… it has gotten a bit messy. Projects scattered. Energy drained. Days filled with boppy, chaotic tasks.
Lately, I’ve been working to bring back rituals — not as demands, but as gentle rhythms. As supportive containers.
Some things I’m experimenting with:
Mapping my energy patterns and matching task types to them
Morning movement rituals (hello, walking treadmill) paired with low-brain tasks while I’m still foggy
Afternoon mono-tropic flow windows for deep creative work
Adding sensory cues (certain beverages, certain playlists, weighted objects) to signal a shift into these different buckets of time
When I treat these not as rigid expectations, but as invitations — rituals instead of rules — they become something nourishing. A way to offer my system grounding and flexibility at the same time. A way to build more trust between my parts.
It’s not a perfect science. Some days it all goes sideways. But I’m learning — slowly — how to listen inward with more spaciousness. To honor the fast-moving, spark-chasing parts and the ones that crave rhythm, steadiness, and clear edges.
Trust grows when we build containers that can hold both structure and freedom. That’s where I’m placing my energy this season — in building a life where all my parts feel held.
A Pondering to Sit With …
Where in your life might a little more structure allow for more freedom? And where might softness or spontaneity offer a pathway back to awe, creativity and connection?