I could have a great day.
I could get everything done.
Work could go well.
I could accomplish ten things I wanted to accomplish.
People could say nine positive things to me.
Then someone makes one negative comment.
And somehow, that's the thing my brain decides we're going to think about for the rest of the day.
Not the ten wins.
Not the compliments.
Not everything that went right.
That one comment.
ONE COMMENT BECOMES TEN CONVERSATIONS.
This is something I've had to learn about myself.
Someone says something that bothers me.
At first, it's just a comment.
Then I replay it.
Why did they say that? Did they mean something else? Were they criticizing me? Did I do something wrong?
Then my brain starts making connections.
That comment reminds me of something else.
Which reminds me of another conversation.
Which reminds me of another person.
And suddenly I'm not thinking about what somebody said ten minutes ago anymore.
I'm thinking about every related thing my brain can find.
It's like my brain starts building a case against me.
Then the feeling changes.
What started as being bothered becomes overthinking.
Overthinking becomes anxiety.
And eventually the thought gets so loud that it starts affecting everything else.
I don't want to talk.
I don't want to see people.
I want to pull away.
The strange part is that the person who made the original comment might have already forgotten about it.
Meanwhile, I'm still having an entire conversation with them inside my head.
That's the part I've had to work on.
REJECTION SENSITIVITY CAN MAKE SOMETHING SMALL FEEL HUGE.
For some people with ADHD, criticism, rejection, disappointment or even the perception that someone is upset with us can hit incredibly hard.
The term often used for this experience is rejection sensitivity. You may also hear "rejection sensitive dysphoria," although RSD isn't an official standalone medical diagnosis.
Whatever you call it, I know the experience.
The emotion arrives quickly.
And once it gets inside my head, my brain wants to keep feeding it.
That's where I've learned I have to intervene.
I had to learn to catch myself earlier.
I used to realize what was happening after I'd already spent hours thinking about it.
Now I try to catch the first few thoughts.
That's made a huge difference.
When I notice myself replaying the same comment again and again, I've learned to ask myself:
What actually happened?
Not what I think they meant. Not what they might be thinking. Not the imaginary conversation I've created.
What actually happened?
Someone said something.
It bothered me.
That's real.
Everything my brain starts building around it afterward might not be.
That distinction matters.
DON'T LET YOUR BRAIN WRITE THE REST OF THE STORY.
This has probably been the biggest lesson for me.
My first feeling can be real without every thought that follows it being true.
I can feel rejected without actually being rejected.
I can feel criticized without someone intending to criticize me.
And sometimes somebody really did say something shitty.
That happens too.
But even then, I get to decide how much space I'm going to give it.
I'm not always good at this.
Sometimes I still catch myself halfway down the rabbit hole.
The difference is that now I recognize the rabbit hole.
I slowly build myself back up.
I don't try to suddenly convince myself that everything is amazing.
That doesn't work for me.
I interrupt the pattern.
I change what I'm doing.
I get away from the thought for a little while.
I remind myself of what actually happened versus what my brain added to it.
I think about everything else that went right that day.
And slowly, I pull myself back.
I've had to practice this.
Over and over.
Because I realized something important:
I can't always control the first thought.
But I can get better at recognizing what happens next.
That little gap between the comment and the spiral is where I've found some control.
ONE BAD MOMENT DOESN'T GET THE WHOLE DAY.
That's what I'm trying to teach myself now.
A negative comment can bother me.
Someone's opinion can hurt.
I can feel disappointed, embarrassed or misunderstood.
I'm human.
But one moment doesn't deserve everything else.
It doesn't get the next six hours.
It doesn't get every good thing that happened that day.
And it definitely doesn't get to decide how I feel about myself.
For my brain, that's something I have to consciously remember.
Catch it early.
Separate what happened from what your brain added.
Interrupt the spiral.
Then start building yourself back up.
Because sometimes protecting your signal isn't about shutting out everything around you.
Sometimes it's recognizing when one negative signal has become louder than everything else.
And turning the volume back down.
⚡ Find Your Frequency.