Now or Not Now; Here and Not Here

In my practice, I hear a lot of self-criticism. A lot.

Most of my clients are extraordinarily well practiced in finding fault with themselves — in spotting the one mistake in a day full of good intentions, the one moment they “should have handled better.” It’s as if they have an inner quality-control inspector who never clocks out.

And for many adults with ADHD, this self-criticism comes with something deeper — a strange, slippery sense of time and space. They often describe feeling either completely in the moment or nowhere near it. That’s what I mean by Now or Not Now; Here and Not Here.

The ADHD Sense of Time: “Now” or “Not Now”

People with ADHD often say time feels like it has only two settings: now and not now.

There’s the task, the thought, the emotion that’s right in front of you — vivid, urgent, magnetic. And then there’s everything else: the things you meant to do, the deadlines that vanished, the promises you forgot. Those live in not now.

This isn’t laziness or lack of caring. It’s how the ADHD brain experiences time. The emotional intensity of the present moment can feel so consuming that everything outside it fades — until it doesn’t. Then comes the wave of guilt or shame:

You should’ve started earlier.

You always do this.

What’s wrong with you?

None of that helps with time awareness; it just deepens the shame that keeps the cycle going.

“Here” and “Not Here”: The Spatial Version of the Same Thing

ADHD doesn’t just distort time — it also affects place. Many describe feeling physically somewhere but mentally elsewhere.

You might be reading an email while mentally running three errands ahead. You might be in a meeting but noticing the hum of the lights, the ache in your shoulders, or the text you forgot to send.

It’s a kind of mental teleporting: your body is here, but your attention is not here.

This creates friction in relationships and work — you seem distracted or disinterested when your mind is simply juggling too much. And afterward, the critic swoops in again:

Why can’t I just focus?

What’s wrong with me that I can’t stay present?

What If Nothing’s “Wrong” — Just Different?

What if this isn’t a moral problem to solve but a neurological reality to understand? The ADHD brain experiences time and space differently. It’s wired for intensity and novelty, not for consistency and clockwork.

Learning to live with that difference means shifting from Why can’t I? to What helps me stay connected?

Sometimes that’s external supports — reminders, alarms, visual cues. Accountability and body doubling are also great aides. Sometimes it’s self-compassion — forgiving yourself when you drift from here to not here. The drift isn’t failure; it’s part of the landscape.

Practicing “Re-entry”

A useful skill is what I call re-entry.

When you catch yourself lost in not now or not here, gently guide yourself back.

You don’t need to scold or analyze — just name what’s happening:

“I’ve drifted.”

“I’m not here right now.”

“Okay, coming back.”

Then do one small, concrete thing to anchor in the present: touch the desk, feel your feet, take a breath, look around. This isn’t mindfulness in the abstract — it’s sensory grounding. It helps rebuild continuity, a bridge between now and not now.

Over time, these small re-entries add up. They create a kinder relationship with yourself — one where awareness replaces accusation.

Coming Home, Again and Again

Many adults with ADHD say they feel like they’re constantly “catching up” — on time, on conversations, on themselves. But you don’t have to fix that all at once. The real work is in recognizing that you can come home to now and here as many times as you need to. Remember that it's your brain and not you; what's up to you is creating and maintaining the scaffolding that supports your attention and focus.

You don’t lose your worth when your attention wanders.

You don’t fail when time slips away.

You just begin again — right here, right now.