Interruptions hit differently for ADHD and neurodivergent minds. Here’s why they’re so disruptive—and what helps when the words disappear.
It happens all the time.
I’ll finally be saying something I’ve been turning over for days—maybe even weeks—and just as I land in the rhythm of it… my husband jumps in.
He’s not trying to derail me. He’s just engaged. Curious. Participating.
But the second he speaks, the thread disappears.
Not just paused. Not derailed.
Gone.
And once it’s gone? It usually doesn’t come back.
If you live with ADHD or another neurodivergent trait, you probably know this moment well.
You’re finally locked in.
Finally expressing the thing.
And then—gone. Static. Blank.
“Interruptions aren’t just annoying. They’re disruptive in a way that rewrites the moment.”
This isn’t about sensitivity.
It’s about how differently our brains hold thoughts, manage working memory, and recover from mental redirection.
Interruptions are disruptive for everyone—but for many of us, they can be disorienting. Here’s why:
Sometimes we finally catch a wave of clarity—those rare moments when we can see and say what we mean. Interruptions pop that bubble. It’s not always possible to get back in.
Shifting tasks, thoughts, or emotions takes more cognitive energy for ADHD brains. Interruptions force that shift midstream, which costs not just attention—but momentum.
Thoughts can exist in fragments or flashes. If we don’t get them out fast enough, or if something cuts in, they disappear. The thought isn’t on pause—it’s gone.
We live in a world that constantly interrupts us:
Notifications
Background noise
Task-switching
Unexpected demands
Research says it takes about 23 minutes for the average brain to refocus after an interruption. For neurodivergent minds? Sometimes it takes longer. Sometimes it doesn’t happen at all.
So when you feel frustration, grief, or even embarrassment in those moments—you’re not overreacting. You’re reacting to the cost of having to reassemble something you’d just barely started to hold.
There’s no perfect fix—but a few shifts have made a difference for me:
Try saying:
“Can I finish this before you jump in?”
“Hold on, I’m trying to land this.”
Or even just putting up a hand as a signal.
It doesn’t need to be sharp. It just needs to be clear.
When it happens—and it will—try:
Taking a breath
Saying out loud, “Where was I?”
Jotting down a single keyword to re-anchor the thought
Sometimes it helps. Sometimes it doesn’t. Either way, it’s worth giving yourself the space to try.
It’s not about blame—it’s about education.
If someone close to you often jumps in, let them know what’s happening in your brain when they do. You’re not asking them to change who they are—you’re asking for a little more room.
This is about honoring how different minds work.
Some brains require more energy to gather and express thoughts.
Some brains lose the thread more easily—and feel that loss more deeply.
So when you feel flustered or shut down after being interrupted, remember:
This isn’t drama.
This is your body reacting to a sudden loss of clarity, rhythm, and internal momentum.
You’re not weak for needing a pause.
You’re human—and your rhythm deserves to be respected, too.
Categories: : ROOT → Mind & Mood, ROOT → Communication & Relationships