Things I say about my brain while laughing, and what they actually hide
"Sorry, I was somewhere else."
I say this at least three times a week. With a smile. A little laugh. As if it were a joke, a charming eccentricity. People laugh too, most of the time. "You're always in the clouds." And we move on.
What nobody sees is that behind the smile, there's a quick calculation: what did I miss while I was gone? Was it important? Did the person notice? Are they hurt? And how do I catch up without it showing?
Humor as armor
I developed a reflex early on: laugh at my brain before other people get annoyed by it. It's a social strategy, even if I didn't think of it that way at the time. If you laugh at yourself first, the other person can't be mad. You already took the hit for them.
"My brain is being weird today." That means: I haven't been able to get anything done for 3 hours and I don't know why. "I'm a bit scattered." That means: I've opened 14 tabs, started 4 tasks, finished zero, and I feel like garbage. "Wait, I lost the thread." That means: you've been talking for 2 minutes and I have no idea what you said, and I'm ashamed.
Humor softens all of that. It makes things livable. It creates connection instead of awkwardness. But it also masks the real weight of what's happening.
The phrases and what they hide
"I forgot again, I can't believe it!"
That hides: the frustration of a brain that doesn't retain the things it should. Not complicated things. Appointments, groceries, someone's birthday. Simple things that everyone manages, except me. And the guilt that comes with it, every single time.
"I'm just not built for paperwork."
That hides: a pile of unopened mail, forms never filled out, tasks postponed for months. ADHD procrastination is not laziness. It's a brain hitting an invisible wall in front of tasks that generate no activation. And the shame of not being able to do what anyone else seems to handle effortlessly.
"Don't worry, it's my creative side."
That hides: the need to give an acceptable name to a way of functioning that isn't always accepted. "Creative" sounds better than "unable to structure myself." It's softer. More charming. But it's still a way of disguising a real difficulty as a personality trait.
"I'm really into something right now."
That hides: a hyperfocus that has taken over. Not a choice to concentrate on something. An involuntary absorption that makes the outside world cease to exist. Skipped meals, unread messages, people ignored. Not out of selfishness. Because the brain is locked in.
Why we laugh
I don't think humor is a problem. It's a tool. And it works. It makes interactions lighter, creates closeness, defuses awkward situations before they become hurtful.
The problem is when humor replaces honest conversation. When you laugh at your brain so much that nobody around you realizes that sometimes, you're not okay. That behind the "sorry, I was somewhere else" with a smile, there are real moments of distress. Of isolation. Of exhaustion.
There were periods where I laughed at everything. My forgetfulness, my chaos, my inability to do simple things. And nobody asked if I was okay. Not because they didn't care. Because my humor told them everything was fine. I had taken away their reason to worry.
Learning to say things differently
I haven't stopped laughing at my brain. I'm not going to. It's part of me, and it's genuine, not just armor. There's real lightness in it, real amusement at the absurdity of the whole thing.
But I've learned to add something else. With the people who matter, I sometimes say: "Today is a bad day." Without laughing. Without minimizing. And it's surprising how differently people respond when you give them access to the unfiltered version.
It's not easy. Showing that it weighs on you, without the armor of humor, means being vulnerable. And ADHD brains, which have spent years compensating, are not comfortable with that.
For those who recognize these phrases
If you're someone who laughs at your brain, I get it. Keep laughing. Humor is a strength. But once in a while, with the right people, let yourself say what the jokes are hiding. Not for pity. So that someone knows what it's really like.
And if you're close to someone who always laughs about their brain, listen between the jokes. Sometimes, "I was somewhere else" doesn't mean "I'm funny." It means "I'm struggling."