The Neurodivergent Treadmill of Life

Being neurodivergent can feel like trying to keep up on a treadmill that's going too fast. Your mind is set to an infinitely high speed while your body is doing everything it can to stay alive.

Last night, as I lay restlessly in bed, my mind and body were in their usual state of disagreement. I yearned for the words to describe this feeling of polarization, and came up with the treadmill metaphor above.

My body is tired and in need of sleep, but my mind won't stop racing. A book idea I must write down, an email I shouldn't forget to answer, this metaphor that I cannot allow to get lost in the black hole of thoughts.

I am tempted to switch on the light, to relieve my being of these thoughts, but I must stop myself. I know that this is a game of whack-a-mole. Every time I believe to be free of a worry, another simply comes in its place.

While frustrating, I understand that my neurodivergent mind – my greatest gift – is far too expansive for its energy to be contained within a mere mortal. So I let it race.

By permitting it to exist in its entirety, my soul realizes it isn't at all trapped. There's no need to be contained within the world of 3D because neurodivergent freedom exists in a different dimension – one in which creativity needn't be contained.

By allowing myself to be just the way I am, I can transcend into that higher dimension. For only in that dimension can I access my true purpose, the only reason that this physical life is even worth living.