What Looks Like Flakiness Is Actually Survival: Understanding AuDHD Inconsistency
Bridgette Hamstead
What so many people call “flakiness” in AuDHD adults is actually survival. It’s not about carelessness or lack of follow-through. It’s about living with a nervous system that is constantly responding to sensory input, emotional labor, executive functioning limits, and the need to recover from simply existing in a world that wasn’t built for us.
For those of us with both autism and ADHD, inconsistency is not a character flaw—it’s the result of an internal rhythm that doesn’t match the external demands placed on us. We cycle through moments of clarity and energy, followed by periods of shutdown, overwhelm, and recovery. The challenge isn’t that we don’t want to show up. It’s that we are constantly managing how, when, and whether we can show up without sacrificing our mental and physical health in the process.
What we need is not more pressure to push through, but more understanding of the patterns we live in and the ways we’re protecting ourselves. Our inconsistency is not a failure. It is how we continue. It is how we return. It is how we survive.
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For those of us who are AuDHD, living in a world that demands consistency, predictability, and linear productivity often feels like being measured by tools that were never made for us. The inconsistency that so many neurotypical people view as flakiness or unreliability is, for us, a survival strategy. Our lives are shaped by the constant and often conflicting needs of our autistic and ADHD brains. At times, we move with incredible speed and clarity. Other times, we stall out entirely. We cycle between bursts of creativity and deep fatigue, between hyperfocus and shutdown, between outward productivity and inward recovery. This is not a failure of character. It is a direct result of living with a nervous system that is trying to protect us.
The world is not built with our rhythms in mind. It is organized around linear expectations: consistent performance, fixed schedules, steady output, and predictable engagement. But our brains do not operate in straight lines. We move in cycles, in waves, in pulses. Some days we can do everything. Other days we can barely do anything. These shifts are not signs of disinterest or carelessness. They are the result of neurological systems doing their best to regulate energy, manage overwhelm, and respond to ever-changing internal and external demands. What others call inconsistency, we experience as adaptation.
Living as AuDHD means constantly negotiating between two very different sets of needs. Our ADHD traits pull us toward stimulation, novelty, and momentum. Our autistic traits ask for regulation, sameness, and space. We are driven by curiosity and pattern recognition, yet we are overwhelmed by too much input. We crave freedom but feel safest within structure. This push and pull shapes how we show up in the world. When we can’t meet deadlines or follow routines in a way others expect, it is not because we are lazy or irresponsible. It is because we are trying to survive in a world that often overwhelms us and rarely accommodates our natural pace.
Many of us have internalized the belief that something is wrong with us. We’ve been told we are flaky, unreliable, dramatic, or difficult. We’ve tried to mask, to force ourselves into neurotypical molds, to become more consistent by sheer willpower. And often, we succeed for a while. We meet deadlines, respond to every message, show up on time, and smile through the strain. But this kind of compliance comes at a cost. It drains our energy reserves, chips away at our sense of safety, and leads us directly into burnout. When we finally collapse, we are met with confusion or criticism, when what we really need is compassion.
It is not that we cannot be reliable. It is that our reliability looks different. It is built on relationship, not rigidity. It flows with energy, capacity, and context. We may not respond quickly, but we care deeply. We may miss a meeting, but we remember your words. We may cancel plans, but we are still invested. Our commitment is not measured by consistency of behavior. It is measured by presence, by intention, and by how hard we try to show up in a world that doesn’t show up for us.
Understanding AuDHD inconsistency requires us to stop pathologizing difference. We are not broken. We are living with brains that process the world in unique and powerful ways. We are constantly navigating systems that demand uniformity from minds wired for complexity. The more we are forced to conform, the more harm we endure. But when we are given space to move at our own pace, to follow the natural ebb and flow of our energy, we can thrive. We can create, connect, and contribute in ways that are deeply meaningful and sustainable.
What looks like flakiness from the outside is often an act of self-preservation. It is our nervous system pulling the emergency brake. It is our body telling us we need rest, space, quiet, or time. These are not excuses. They are boundaries. And honoring them is not giving up. It is choosing to survive, to protect our energy, and to preserve our well-being so that we can continue showing up in ways that matter to us.
In a world that values consistency over authenticity, it is radical to trust our rhythms. It is radical to say no when our capacity is low. It is radical to believe that our value is not tied to our output. When we begin to understand AuDHD inconsistency as a response to environmental stress, sensory overload, executive dysfunction, and emotional labor, we can finally start to shift the narrative. We are not unreliable. We are responsive. We are doing what we need to do to survive. And survival, in a world that misunderstands us, is a powerful and deeply intentional act.
What AuDHD Inconsistency Might Actually Be:
Protecting yourself from sensory overload by canceling or avoiding overstimulating environments
Experiencing executive dysfunction that makes even small tasks feel impossible despite good intentions
Needing to recover from masking, social exhaustion, or burnout before re-engaging with others
Losing track of time or becoming hyperfocused on one task while unintentionally neglecting another
Avoiding communication due to anxiety, decision paralysis, or fear of disappointing someone
Being overwhelmed by notifications, messages, or requests and shutting down instead of responding
Wanting to follow through but being unable to shift gears or transition between tasks or contexts
Feeling shame or guilt after missing a commitment, which leads to further avoidance or withdrawal
Canceling plans not because of a lack of care, but because your nervous system is demanding rest
Functioning in bursts of energy or clarity, then needing long periods of rest or silence afterward
Understanding AuDHD inconsistency requires a shift in how we interpret behavior, especially in systems that equate reliability with sameness and availability with value. When we acknowledge that what may appear inconsistent is often a reflection of nervous system regulation, executive functioning limits, and sensory needs, we begin to move away from judgment and toward compassion. Our inconsistency is not a flaw to fix, but a signal to listen to. It reveals the invisible labor of navigating environments that are not built for our brains.
What we need is not more pressure to conform, but more spaciousness to exist as we are. We need relationships, workplaces, and communities that recognize the wisdom in our rhythms, the intention behind our silence, and the care in our boundaries. When we honor the reality of our lived experiences, we stop demanding sameness and start creating space for sustainable connection. Inconsistency, for us, is often how we survive. With understanding and flexibility, it can also become a path toward thriving.