Finding My Voice: Navigating Communication Struggles with ADHD and Autism

I’ve struggled with vocal communication my whole life. It’s always felt unnatural, almost foreign even. It’s as if someone else were controlling my body. I often feel trapped inside, and unable to move or break free from the constraints. For the longest time, I didn’t understand why I felt this way.

Speaking, something so simple for others, felt overwhelming and rather excruciating for me. Now, with a better understanding of my ADHD and autism diagnoses, I’ve begun to make sense of this lifelong battle.

Even now, I often feel like that shy, quiet little girl afraid to speak her mind. I naturally get scared and never want to draw unnecessary attention to myself. So my mind is a constant battlefield of overthinking. Always has been and most likely always will be.

I tend to spin up scenarios where everyone secretly dislikes me. I feel out of place, rejected, and on edge. These negative thoughts and self-doubt create a reality where I experience tension, anxiety, and rejection sensitivity. It’s an exhausting cycle, and I haven’t completely outgrown it. However, I have learned to manage it in ways that work for me.

One of the biggest shifts in my mindset has been allowing myself to embrace imperfections in my speech. Sure, I may stutter. I might lose track of my thoughts quickly. I become numb when trying to tell a story. It happens even when I explain things in any sense. However, I’m trying my best to feel comfortable using my voice. I used to feel humiliated whenever I stumbled over words or said something I perceived as foolish.

Now, I remind myself that everyone misspeaks, everyone has awkward moments, and those moments don’t define me. I try to own them, to let them pass rather than dwelling on them for hours or even days. I honestly just try and laugh it off. Perhaps that’s a coping mechanism. It’s not easy, and sometimes, I still catch myself spiraling into self-criticism, but awareness is the first step toward change.

I’ve also come to terms with my need for isolation to recharge. Social interactions, especially in high-stress environments like airports, can drain me to the point of meltdown. Traveling is particularly challenging. Just recently, during my birthday trip to Portland, I faced a series of overwhelming moments. Both on the way there and back, TSA had to check my luggage, which sent my anxiety through the roof.

On the first flight, I was convinced I had lost my reading glasses. Panicked and frustrated, I caused a scene, exclaiming that they had lost them. No one helped me, and I felt utterly helpless. Then, a stranger gently pointed out that my glasses were on top of my head.

The embarrassment hit me like a wave. I rushed to the restroom. Tears were streaming down my face, and I was breathing heavily. In that moment, I felt completely out of control, a prisoner to my own emotions.

I don’t know how to control my emotions. It’s been a lifelong struggle, and one that feels almost involuntary. No matter how much I try to suppress my reactions, they always find their way out. It’s frustrating, and at times, I feel like my intelligence isn’t reflected in the way I communicate.

I lose my train of thought mid-story. I get caught in brain fog and stumble over my words, even with close friends. I often feel awkward and out of place. I long to speak with the kind of elegance and confidence I admire in others.

Despite these struggles, I’ve made progress. I’ve slowly become more comfortable with my voice, and I don’t hate the sound of it as much. I’ve become more accepting of the way I communicate. I remind myself that awkwardness doesn’t equate to incompetence. My intelligence isn’t diminished by my struggles with vocal expression.

It’s a journey. One that I will continue to navigate with as much patience and self-compassion as I can. I might never be the most eloquent speaker, but that’s okay. My voice, in whatever form it takes, is still mine, and that is enough. I just need to try and embrace it.

“I have a voice!”

Colin Firth in the film The King’s Speech