Why "Just Picking One" is a Whole Thing
If we’re talking about choice, I think it breaks down into two main buckets: choices that involve just us, and choices that involve other people. Either way, it usually leads to some form of OVERTHINKING.
(BTW: I love overthinking and I think it can be a beautiful thing… until it’s not, which is probably why you are here).
I believe the overthinking brain—or those specific "parts" of us—actually do a really good job. This is especially true if you identify with having awesome pattern recognition skills. I often think of that episode of SpongeBob where he becomes a waiter at a 5-star restaurant and forgets “everything but fine dining and his name.” His LIFE becomes helping others—until he has a cow because he forgot his name. Also relatable.
But that pattern-seeking brain can get us stuck. When we can't see the "perfect" pattern or the "right" outcome, our brain doesn't just see a choice; it sees a risk.
The Tug-of-War: Routine vs. Novelty
For those of us on the spectrum, there is often a deep, biological need for predictability. Routine isn't just a preference; it’s a safety net. The unknown feels like a regulatory threat to the system. ("The system is down!" as Strong Bad would say). But then you throw ADHD into the mix, and suddenly you have a part of you that craves nuance, stimulation, and "the new."
It’s an internal tug-of-war: one part of you is screaming for the safety of the "usual" order because it’s predictable, while the other part is bored and wants to try the new neon-blue Gatorade for the dopamine hit. Or maybe you're struggling with the awkward, scratchy feel of a .5mm pen when your nervous system is primed for the smooth glide of a .7mm. When these two needs clash, we don't just get indecisive—we get paralyzed and derailed.
Maybe you're reading this and your inner critic is scoffing: "Oh, get over yourself. It’s just a pen. You’ve survived trauma, you’ve built a life, and you’re seriously going to freeze because the ink isn't gliding right? Stop being so dramatic."
And that part of you is right about one thing: You are tough. You have overcome massive obstacles. But that critic is using your strength as a club to beat you with. It’s too scary for that part to acknowledge that choosing the "wrong" pen or the "wrong" snack is actually challenging, because if you admitted that, you’d have to deal with the "why." You’d have to acknowledge that your system is currently stuck in a survival response over a sensory detail.
The "Safety" of the Freeze
When we get UNDERNEATH IT ALL, we have to look at the link between choice and safety:
Did making choices ever feel dangerous to me? Were you criticized for "wrong" choices as a kid?
Do I even know what "safe" or "calm" feels like in my body?
Does it feel "safer" to be told what to do than to risk the unknown?
Maybe you are a caregiver who suffered judgment or backlash from calls you had to make. In some ways, it’s easier to make decisions for ourselves than for other people because we’ve become experts at disappointing ourselves—it feels "safer" than disappointing others. Or maybe you feel like you need to have a decision 100% figured out before talking to anyone else because the "messy process" of deciding with someone else feels like an emotional minefield.
Research Insight: This "freeze" is a protective mechanism. Research suggests that the "Paradox of Choice" can lead to "regret before the choice is even made" (Schwartz, 2004). For those with ADHD, this is amplified by executive dysfunction. The brain struggles to filter out irrelevant information, leading to a literal "brain crash" where the system shuts down to protect itself from overload (ADD.org, 2024).
The High-Stakes Paradox
The wild part is that I can make choices when the stakes are extremely high, the world is ending, and my brain is totally overstimulated. For some reason, that’s when the calm comes over me. As one who has experienced two wildfires (Woolsey and Eaton), this was really highlighted for me: When the environment matches the internal intensity, the neurodivergent brain finally clicks into gear.
My joke with my fellow neurodivergents is: “Okay, when the world ends, we can all pick each other up in our Mad Max vehicles and thrive while everyone else is panicking.”
But until the apocalypse happens, we’re still stuck in the cereal aisle, trying to convince our nervous system that picking the "wrong" granola isn't a life-threatening mistake.
Citations & References
ADD.org. (2024). ADHD Paralysis: Why We Get Stuck and How to Move Forward.
Schwartz, B. (2004). The Paradox of Choice: Why More Is Less. Harper Perennial.
