The productivity world built its entire mythology around single-tasking. Turns out, for a meaningful slice of the population, that mythology was always wrong — and the people it was wrong about spent decades being told they were broken.

Getting diagnosed with AuDHD at 55 doesn’t rewrite your past. It just finally explains it, which is both a relief and its own kind of grief.

Getting a diagnosis at 55 doesn’t fix anything. But it does something almost as useful, it explains everything, and changes how you judge the person you used to be.

I spent five decades thinking everyone’s brain worked this way, constantly running, never fully quiet, always three problems ahead of the conversation. Turns out that’s not a personality trait. It’s a diagnosis.

Most people see late-night server builds as a sleep problem. I’ve started thinking of mine as a scheduling solution — and the evidence backs me up.

AuDHD hyperfocus isn’t a productivity tool you switch on. It’s more like a flash flood, and my homelab is the proof of what it leaves behind.

I got an AuDHD diagnosis at 54. Not because something was wrong, but because I finally had a name for everything that had always been exactly this way.

I spent 55 years running on a brain nobody had a name for. Turns out it built something real anyway — but not without a cost worth being honest about.

Every task you do carries invisible overhead that nobody warns you about. Understanding that overhead isn’t weakness — it’s the first step to actually managing it.

A diagnosis doesn’t change who you are. But it does change how much energy you spend pretending to be someone else — and that’s where things get complicated.