How to Handle Rejection Dysphoria Without Flipping a Table (ADHD Edition)
Alright, let’s talk about rejection dysphoria—or as I like to call it, “emotional kryptonite for ADHD brains.” You know, that delightful mix of shame, sadness, and irrational overthinking that happens when someone so much as breathes in a way that feels dismissive. It’s like rejection dysphoria takes our already turbo-charged emotions and turns them into a 24/7 dramatic opera.
As a fellow ADHDer and life coach, I’ve been there. Oh, boy, have I been there. Rejection dysphoria feels like someone turned the volume on your insecurities up to 11 and then accidentally set it on fire. But guess what? You don’t have to let it ruin your day (or your week, or your life). Here’s how you can survive rejection dysphoria with your dignity—and maybe even your sense of humor—intact.
Step 1: Stop Taking Every Frown Personally
Look, Karen in accounting didn’t roll her eyes at you because she hates your guts. She probably just remembered that her kid has soccer practice tonight. ADHD brains are hardwired to interpret neutral signals as catastrophic rejection. (Why? Because we like a good drama, apparently.)
So here’s the move: whenever you feel that rejection twinge, pause and ask yourself, Is this a FACT or a FEELING? Nine times out of ten, it’s a feeling. And as my therapist once lovingly said: “Your feelings are valid, but also kinda dumb sometimes.”
Step 2: Get Some Emotional First Aid Ready
When rejection dysphoria hits, it can feel like a full-blown emergency. So treat it like one! Have a mental health first aid kit ready. Mine includes a killer playlist (angsty songs encouraged), a go-to friend I can text with, “Tell me why I’m awesome” vibes, and a stash of chocolate that I’m totally not eating all at once. (Hey, I have to. My wife is a diabetic.)
Pro tip: If your ADHD brain is feeling extra spicy, write a note to your future self. Something like: “Hey, I know this sucks, but you’ve survived way worse, and also, you’re kind of a badass. Love, Me.”
Step 3: Laugh at Your Own Drama
Okay, let’s be real. Half the time when I spiral into rejection dysphoria, it’s about something hilariously dumb in hindsight. Like that one time I thought my Uber driver hated me because he didn’t say “Have a nice day.” (Spoiler: he was just tired.)
If you can’t laugh in the moment, at least aim for laughing later. Call a friend who gets you. Tell them your inner monologue, word for word. Trust me, when you hear yourself say out loud, “I’m 100% sure the barista hates me because they forgot my oat milk,” you’ll realize how ridiculous rejection dysphoria can be. Humor is your secret weapon.
Step 4: Don’t Let Perfectionism Be the Boss
Rejection dysphoria loves to team up with perfectionism, that sneaky jerk. Together, they’ll convince you that if you’re not perfect, everyone will abandon you. Spoiler alert: nobody’s perfect, and if they claim to be, they’re lying. Or they’re a robot. Either way, not your problem. Unless they’re a robot. Then they aren’t your problem…yet.
Instead of striving for perfection, aim for good enough. Good enough gets stuff done. Good enough shows up to the party. Good enough takes risks. And guess what? Good enough is lovable as hell.
Step 5: Be Your Own Cheerleader (Even When You Feel Like Crap)
Rejection dysphoria can make you feel like you’re the human equivalent of expired milk. But newsflash: you’re not. You’re a freaking delight, even if your brain tries to convince you otherwise.
When you’re spiraling, it’s time to go full pep talk mode. Remind yourself of your wins, big and small. Celebrate the fact that you got out of bed today or that you didn’t bite someone’s head off during rush hour. ADHDers are resilient as heck. You’ve overcome more obstacles than most people even see in a lifetime. Own that. I write a list of things that I want to get done that day, and cheat and write down all the stuff I’ve already done. Even if it was as simple as brushing my teeth or putting on pants.
Final Thoughts
Rejection dysphoria sucks. It’s like your brain threw a temper tantrum and decided to drag your self-worth into it for fun. But you don’t have to let it win. With a little humor, a lot of self-compassion, and maybe some chocolate, you can ride the wave without drowning in it.
Remember: Your worth isn’t up for debate. Not by Karen in accounting, not by your brain, and certainly not by your Uber driver. You’re awesome, just as you are. And that’s good enough.