Are You Motivating Yourself or Punishing Yourself?
Read first, if you haven’t already: ADHD and Shame: Why You Feel Like You’re Always Getting It Wrong.
That post explores where the shame came from. This one is about what happens when you try to rely on it to manage your life.
It’s 4 pm. That thing you were going to do today still hasn’t been started. Somewhere in your head, a voice says, with a nasty tone, “What is wrong with you?”
You know that voice. You’ve had it for as long as you can remember. Here’s the part that can be difficult to admit: you’re a bit scared of losing that mean voice because it feels like the only thing that ever gets you going.
For the record, needing a voice like that to start things isn’t laziness. It’s what happens when a brain that finds starting difficult has been criticised a few thousand times and has learned to do the criticising itself before anyone else can.
Something I’ve heard more than once in sessions with adults diagnosed later in life is some version of, “If I didn’t have that voice, I’d never get anything done.” Some people even say, “I don’t want to lose it.”
If you don’t have a diagnosis yet and you’re wondering whether constant self criticism can be related to ADHD, you’re in the right place. It often is.
This post looks at whether that belief is true. Researchers have investigated it, and the answer is more complicated than either side of the argument sometimes suggests.
Why the harsh voice feels like it works
Let’s be fair to it first. The harsh voice developed for a reason.
When you were younger, and often well into adulthood, the criticism came from outside. It may have come from teachers, parents, partners, coaches or managers. A 2020 study of more than 1,200 adults found that people with ADHD reported considerably more criticism from others than people without ADHD. That criticism partly explained why they were so much harder on themselves.
After enough criticism, repeated critical messages can become part of how we see ourselves. A missed deadline stops registering as a symptom or difficulty and starts registering as a character flaw.
So you learned to deliver the criticism yourself. You did it faster and more harshly, before anyone else could. It can feel as though you’re controlling the situation and protecting yourself from the hurt. It may even work sometimes in the short term because a jolt of shame is a shock, and a shock can get you off the couch.
For some people, the sergeant has a particular voice. If you grew up in a home where criticism was repeated or cruel, or came with punishments such as being ignored, losing access to your toys or belongings, or having love and approval withdrawn, the voice in your head at 4 pm may use someone else’s actual words.
That changes what retiring the voice can mean. It may feel like disloyalty to a caregiver, like judging a parent you loved, or like giving up the only thing that once kept you safe.
What shame actually does
In 2014, a team of psychologists published two studies in the journal Emotion examining whether shame motivates people to change. It does, to a point. People who recalled a shameful experience reported a stronger desire to change themselves than people who recalled guilt or embarrassment.
The same studies found that shame produced another urge with almost the same strength. It made people want to hide, distance themselves and get away from the situation and the people involved.
The researchers were careful about what they hadn’t measured. They measured the desire to change, not whether change actually occurred. They noted that this motivation might not translate into action and that shame experienced throughout the process could become the very thing that prevents change.
Shame can give you the desire to change. It doesn’t necessarily help you make the change. What it reliably creates is an urge to disappear. For a brain that already struggles to begin, that’s the worst kind of addition. “I should” and “I can’t face it” arrive together at 4 pm.
A similar pattern appears when researchers follow people’s actual goals. A 2007 study tracked progress over time and found that people who were highly self critical made less progress. Rumination and procrastination helped explain the difference.
The sergeant doesn’t necessarily get you moving. It can leave you thinking about why you’re not moving.
Shame may give you the desire to change. The follow through comes from somewhere else.
Where the follow through comes from
Another research team conducted four experiments examining what happened when people experienced failure and then responded to themselves with compassion. Their responses were compared with those of people who were asked to focus on their strengths.
The compassion group didn’t become complacent. They were more likely to believe that their weaknesses could change. In one study, after performing poorly on a difficult test, they spent more time studying before trying again.
Kindness supported effort rather than reducing it.
There’s evidence relating specifically to ADHD as well. A 2022 study involving 543 adults with ADHD and 313 adults without ADHD found that lower self compassion helped explain the poorer mental health reported by the ADHD group. Because the study captured people at one point in time, it can’t establish cause and effect, but its findings point in the same direction.
The two voices and how to tell which one you’re using
I think of the two types of self talk as the coach and the sergeant.
Paul Gilbert’s research group identified something similar in 2004. Most people reported criticising themselves because they wanted to improve. However, the researchers identified two different forms of self criticism. One focused on the mistake, while the other attacked the person. Only the second form was associated with depression.
The quickest way to tell the coach and the sergeant apart isn’t always by listening to the words. Notice what happens in your body.
The sergeant tightens your body. It uses words such as “always”, “never” and “what is wrong with you?” It turns the task you haven’t started into a judgement about your worth.
It also costs you later. A body that feels threatened all day may eventually stop responding to the threat and go flat. This can contribute to burnout, depression and reduced resilience over time.
The coach doesn’t pretend the task is unimportant. It says, “This is hard for you, and it still needs doing, so what’s the smallest version we can manage?”
The coach keeps the task about the task and leaves your worth out of it. It helps your body loosen rather than tighten, which can make beginning the task easier.
Here’s an experiment. Take the sentence you said to yourself at 4 pm. Say it aloud, using the same tone, to a friend with ADHD who is stuck on the same task.
If you’d never say it to them, you’ve probably found the sergeant. If they’d feel understood and slightly more able to begin, you’ve probably found the coach.
Many people discover that they’ve been listening to the sergeant for decades and have never heard from the coach. Of course they haven’t. Nobody modelled that voice for them.
Permission
You’re allowed to retire the sergeant. This isn’t simply because kindness feels nicer. The evidence suggests that self compassion is more likely to support constructive effort.
You’re also allowed to be scared of doing that. The fear that nothing will get done is understandable when threat has been your main source of motivation.
You don’t have to trust the coach immediately. Test it first.
What tends to help
These aren’t instructions. They’re simply suggestions you can try.
Make the first step so small that the sergeant has nothing to shout about. If starting is the problem rather than caring, I’ve written more about this in Why You Know Exactly What To Do But Still Can’t Start.
Try doing the task beside someone. Shame grows in isolation and often loses some of its intensity in company. Body doubling may help partly because another person’s presence makes it easier to remain connected to the task rather than becoming lost in criticism.
When it’s more than a habit
For some people, the harsh voice isn’t simply a motivational habit that has stopped helping. It’s constant, whether or not there’s a task to complete, and it comes with hopelessness, flatness or thoughts about not wanting to be here.
That isn’t something you should have to manage alone by trying to change your self talk. Please speak with your GP. If you need urgent support in Australia, contact Lifeline on 13 11 14 at any time.
If you’re reading this and realising that the sergeant has been in charge since you were seven, and that you’ve never had another option, that may be worth talking through with someone who understands ADHD.
It doesn’t have to happen urgently. You can do it when you’re ready.
You were never the problem
The harsh voice was a tool. It was the only one you were given, and you used it well enough to get here.
You can begin putting it down now. The research suggests that treating yourself with compassion is more likely, not less likely, to support constructive effort.
Does this resonate? I’d love to know. You can follow me on LinkedIn and Facebook, where I share a new post most weeks.
Interested in reading more? Read ADHD/AuDHD Burnout, Part 1: Why It’s Not Ordinary Burnout.
This post provides general information to help you understand your own experience. It isn’t therapy and isn’t a substitute for advice from a health professional who knows you.