I'm Tired of Being the One Everyone's Worried About

There's a specific kind of exhaustion that comes from being the friend whose life is visibly not going to plan.

You know the look. The slight head tilt. The soft voice. The "so, how's the job hunt going?" delivered with exactly the level of concern you were hoping to avoid at what was supposed to be a fun Saturday brunch. You give your answer, the same one you've given for a while now, and they nod and say "don't worry, you'll find something" and you smile and say "yeah, I know" and everyone moves on. But you carry that interaction around for the rest of the day.

Most of my close friends have good jobs. Solid, properly paid, LinkedIn-worthy careers. A few of them own or co-own their places. Most of them live with partners, have routines, have five-year plans that seem to be more or less on track. They're lovely people and I'm genuinely happy for them. But sitting across the table from someone whose life looks like the one you were supposed to have by now is its own special kind of hard, especially when you're still trying to explain why yours doesn't.

And the thing is, I don't think they quite understand why it's been so difficult. How do you explain that applying for jobs is not just a practical task when your brain fights you at every step? How do you explain that the standard advice, the "just send loads of applications," the "it's a numbers game," the "tailor each one," means nothing when your executive function is flatlined and your rejection sensitivity means every silence from a hiring manager lands like a personal verdict on your worth as a human being? How do you explain that you're not being dramatic, you're genuinely exhausted from trying to function in systems that were not designed for the way your brain works?

The pity is kind. I know it's kind. But it doesn't feel kind. It feels like a reminder of the gap between where you are and where you think you should be. And when you have ADHD, and possibly a side of anxiety and depression keeping it company, your brain does not need any help finding evidence that you're falling behind.

I've started to notice the things people say that are supposed to help but don't. "You'll find your thing." As if I haven't been looking. "Everything happens for a reason." Does it? Does it though. "You're so smart, I'm sure something will come up." Smart doesn't pay rent.

What actually helps, if you're the friend in this situation rather than the one trying to support: just be normal. Talk to me about your life. Ask about things that aren't the job hunt. Let me be a full person in the conversation, not just a project that needs managing. I know you care. I know the check-ins come from love. But sometimes being treated like everything is fine, like I'm fine, is the most generous thing you can do.

And if you're reading this and you're the one sitting at that brunch table with the tilt of the head and the soft voice: I see you too. You're doing your best. We both are. None of this is where either of us thought we'd be. But we're still here, still showing up, still trying.

That actually does count for something. Even when it doesn't feel like it.