This isn’t a definition or advice — it’s lived experience.

PDA through the lens of late-diagnosed AuDHD, with all the messiness and nuance that comes with it.

Please read with care.

PDA – Pathological Demand Avoidance

I am late-diagnosed AuDHD and learning about Pathological Demand Avoidance (PDA).

This is a personal reflection on how PDA shows up in my day-to-day life — not a definition, not advice, just my lived experience.

When a demand appears in my day, I notice my body fills with tension. I become agitated and stiffen up. As the pressure builds, I get upset — not visibly, it’s all internal.

My brain feels scrambled, as if it’s shooting information in all directions like a firework, and I feel myself shutting down. My thoughts race with self-talk about not being able to cope with one more thing to do, why do I have to do it all, and this might just finish me off.

I know that sounds dramatic, but the feelings are so intense it really does leave me poorly equipped to push through it. I get severe headaches, exhaustion that can last for days, and my self-esteem lowers.

I haven’t yet noticed if I get warning signals before it’s going to happen because I am only newly diagnosed with AuDHD. This has so far just been my life without a reason. I thought it was a personality flaw. I was told I was lazy, messy, and didn’t try hard enough.

So I pushed all these feelings down and steam-rolled through tasks to please others. I am still myself learning about PDA.

The kinds of things that feel demanding to me are simple everyday tasks — cooking a meal, doing the laundry, taking a bath, and too many more to list.

There are also the invisible demands I put upon myself: being eloquently spoken, making sure everyone is happy, and making sure my routines are “on top of.”

It’s important to note that in true AuDHD fashion, PDA is variable. Some days I can breeze through all tasks required, and other days I feel swamped and have to trudge my way through them.

PDA often expresses itself for me as a semi-shutdown.

First, I procrastinate because I physically cannot start due to the flooding tension in my body. Then I become emotionally overwhelmed as I force myself to do the task. I get a headache, sometimes feel nauseous, and finally my whole nervous system screams “no more” and I shut down.

When that happens, I don’t want to speak, I don’t want to be touched, and I become emotional inside — though I’m not always sure what the emotions are. They sit somewhere on the neutral to negative spectrum.

On the outside it can look like I’m sulking or being lazy. On the inside, it’s much deeper than that.

Had I avoided the task altogether, I could have avoided a shutdown.

In my day-to-day life, PDA pops up all over the place, especially during busy times. And by “busy,” I don’t necessarily mean physically busy — I mean when my mind is busy.

If my brain is organising, chattering away, or problem-solving, then asking me to do anything else can set off fireworks in my head.

I struggle most with tasks that require thinking, safety, and focus. These are incredibly hard to do when things already feel busy in my mind.

The most hurtful place PDA shows up is in my relationship. I’m going to be really honest here.

If my partner wants a bit of loving and PDA pops up, then he won’t be impressed — not because he’s unkind, but because my brain suddenly fills with thoughts of “there is no time for this right now, I have too much to do already.”

Even when I physically have nothing to do.

When I’m hyper-focused, I quite literally have to schedule “us” time so my brain is prepared and willing. I am very lucky that I can also be spontaneous sometimes — or perhaps he is lucky. We’ve learned to go with the flow over the years, and he is very understanding during dry spells.

When I am absolutely depleted and can’t fight the PDA, my partner picks up the load. I simplify important tasks and avoid all others. This might mean a day of no washing and a takeaway for tea (I’m northern).

If something is expected, it becomes a demand.
If I’m told I have to do something, it’s a demand.
Even if I’m invited, it can become a demand.

PDA has shown me when I need to slow down and put myself and my health first. It’s managed better when I can do life at my own pace — and stop when I need to.

If I didn’t experience PDA, I’d like to think I could be successful at something. My care needs mean it isn’t possible for me to work, but maybe without PDA I could have tried with adjustments.

One thing I want to be gentle about is this:
I am not lazy.

My nervous system gets overwhelmed when it feels overloaded. I genuinely cannot cope at that point — and that is okay.

We need to be kinder to ourselves, and to others experiencing this, in those moments.

If this resonates, you’re not alone.

Gentle reminder: this is my personal experience. Please be kind in the comments.

—Frost ❄️