Check out the collection of fidgets Team Shiny loves! 

Isabelle & David welcome guests to a live Q & A (previously recorded) and start by addressing the question: What is it about folx with ADHD and overexplaining? Isabelle really relates to this as she overexplains the question. David describes the intersection between mastery and guilt. When you have a lot of mastery around the topic makes it hard to structure a response. You have so much to say, and as you start talking, you realize the holes in what you’re saying, so you go back and try to respond more and try to fill in more and more, and because you have a lot of mastery you have a lot of information. There is also a sense of guilt: when people are trying to be understood, or are feeling misunderstood, people can overexplain when they’re trying to explain themselves. This is literally what structure looks like: over explanation is a structural issue, thinking about the beginning, middle, and end of what you’re going to say. With ADHD we often had a good beginning, a solid middle, and then…it’s just supposed to end. Why are people still looking at me? But I’m still talking…(awkward silence). Isabelle names there’s a look on people’s faces when she’s talking too much and often makes a joke about talking to much to end it; David notices when people start checking their watches or phone, or starts looking around the room, he just assumes that people are done. YAY for the podcast format that helps them both talk longer than might usually be socially welcomed. Isabelle describes how many a part of overexplaining is wanted to clue someone in to what’s going on in her head when she unmasks, like it’s the closest thing to seeing her thought process and the tangents and longwinded way she sometimes gets to things. She also finds herself wanting to fill in silence with jokes and facts and anecdotes and is often the one to try to break the ice. David names that this could be something else: namely, how comfortable are we with nothing? David has a low tolerance for someone asking a question, let’s say in class, that no one’s answering.  It could also be called mansplaining, in the form of David just taking up air time, but he’s noticed it often helps start off conversation. Isabelle agrees that her awkwardness often brings people together. Noah chimes in to name it as being natural pickle jar looseners. Noah names gaslighting, and if someone has been gaslit (by others or themselves) their whole life, they may walk around feeling like they need to prove that they’re not “crazy” —Noah describes that he often asks himself “is this weird? Should I say this? Are people going to think…” before he says something. Everyone on the call starts nodding vehemently. David names that folx with ADHD often are very connected to someone else’s inner state, they have lots of mirror neurons (neurons that fire when you’re witnessing or anticipating someone else doing a thing AS IF you are doing the thing yourself, which some folx think can be linked to empathy—see fuller definition and resources below). Isabelle and David open it up to even more questions. Noah starts with the challenge of working with clients who keep developing structure to get something done and it works for a week, but then they have to keep recreating or honing the structure week after week and it’s not working. David responds that there’s often an overcorrection when people are putting in structure, for example, they plan out every minute but it’s not sustainable. Also there’s novelty: novel plans can be attended to and are often stimulating, but once something is not novel, it can’t be attended to the same way. Even if you don’t really like the thing you’re doing, it may still give you a dopamine hit. Noah gives an example of the Pomodoro method, which uses timers. David names that not all interventions work well for different tasks and people. Think of the brain of someone with ADHD as a jet engine—it’s not disabled, but it might find it hard to go in the slow lane or try swimming. So now introduce an intervention that means you take a break quickly after starting (and started a jet engine can take a while)—is the person having trouble taking breaks or having trouble starting? Start a seven minute timer and have to start before it goes off. If it’s a taking a break intervention, maybe take a break when you next go to the bathroom. Breaks and ADHD is hard, people will believe they need to take more breaks, and that’s not true—people often need less breaks, to stay in rhythm longer, and take breaks when it’s effective. For example, instead of a break after school, knowing your medicine is not going to work as well later, going to punch a wall (or do some movement) and then resume homework. It’s like the intervention of needing extra time on a test, when we often need less time. Isabelle wonders what are questions you can ask to figure out what interventions you need? Figuring out what the task is, whether they accomplish the task, and whether it hurt (what are the pain points?) For example, if someone was able to write the paper, but it was hard to write, you figure out an intervention that helps with that part, like body doubling, where another person creates the illusion of structure. Another question: how does someone who may or may not have ADHD adjust to a change in their pace (say between pre and post pandemic times) and recharging their batteries? If our brains are like jet engines and we’re adjusting speeds, how do we rest? Healthy routines are often helpful. But David thinks about the Inception test, which is how you can gauge that something subtle is different—you may not get the warning that your battery is 5% and that might be a rare occurrence, so we get thrown off. David names some cues he puts into place to see if he’s fatigued, like if he’s had lunch, if he feels like cooking, do his shoes feel heavy? Concrete ways to sense if he’s fatigued to then take care and recharge his batteries. It’s connecting physical things that you notice first, like watching dumb shows, or whatever weird things you do when you’re tired (you’re going to notice them first before you notice you’re tired). The recharging of one’s battery is one of the most judged and stereotyped thing, according to David and Isabelle.  People will believe they’re recharging their batteries if it’s boring. Maybe redefine it in a way that’s more fun, like wearing those pants that have lights in the bottom. The quest is going to be figuring out what recharges your battery—learning when you’re worn down is going to be one thing, then figuring out what actually recharges you--choosing the hard button sometimes, too, which means going for the thing that actually recharges you, versus the thing you enjoy but that actually doesn't bring you a lot more energy. David also names how much stimulation you get in nature, just how much is happening when you watch a fire burn or the leaves in the wind--there is a ton of information going on all at once. Isabelle summarizes that when thinking about self care, think about what behaviors you are doing right before you realize you're tired (what are concrete signals)? Whatever you're doing to help yourself recharge: is it an easy button or a something that's really working? Are you over or understimulated? Both can make you feel drained, so be wary of the stereotypical things that are advertised as "self-care" and pay attention to what is actually true for you.

What about that study on shocks being more painful if you think you were shocked intentionally (by Bumbling Steve v. Intentional Steve)? ...