Things my brain wouldn't leave alone.

This week I want to talk about hyperfocus, distractions and what happens when you give an AuDHD brain a laptop, a few ideas and absolutely no supervision. I also want to share something a little different. Rather than focusing entirely on the struggles of living with AuDHD, I want to show you what my brain has been doing behind the scenes, why I have started so many different projects and how I hope they might eventually help other neurodivergent people.

It started with a morning when I had absolutely no intention of doing anything. I woke up, decided I was going to stay in bed and relax, then noticed my laptop sitting next to me. That was my first mistake. I started wondering what I could create for 8DHD, opened the laptop and suddenly my planned day of doing nothing had turned into developing children's books, designing a communication hoodie, creating resources for schools, working on music, developing games and updating a website.

That is one of the strangest things about my AuDHD. I can spend an entire day struggling to start something as simple as cleaning a room, yet give me something that interests me and suddenly I can spend hours working without noticing the time passing. I forget to eat, forget to drink and sometimes forget that I was actually supposed to be resting. My brain has no problem working hard when it wants to. The problem is getting it to work on the things I originally intended.

But this week has also made me think about something else. What if some of those distractions could become something useful? What if all these little ideas that keep pulling my attention away could eventually help somebody who experiences the same difficulties I do?

That is really what 8DHD has started becoming. It began with wanting to share my experiences of living with AuDHD, but every time I identify something I struggle with, another idea appears about how I could make that particular difficulty easier for somebody else. Before I know it, one project has turned into five.

And that is why I wanted to spend this week's blog showing you what we have been creating.

8DHD Labs: Can Technology Actually Help Our Brains?

One of the biggest projects we have been working on this week is the relaunch of our YouTube channels. We have redesigned the artwork and started building two different spaces for our content.

The first is 8DHD Labs, where we will be experimenting with gadgets, technology, AI and unusual products to find out whether they can genuinely make everyday life easier for people with ADHD, autism or AuDHD.

I have always loved technology, especially when somebody invents something a little unusual. But since understanding more about my neurodivergence, I have started looking at gadgets differently. Instead of simply wondering whether something is cool, I find myself asking whether it could help with something I actually struggle with.

Could a robot help me remember to eat? Could a strange new phone reduce distractions? Could a sleep gadget help settle my brain at night? Could something originally designed for entertainment become a useful tool for sensory regulation or executive dysfunction?

Our first video is already live, featuring an AI desktop robot called LOOI. We gave it the challenge of helping me manage a day with ADHD, including remembering tasks, dealing with distractions and managing my executive function. We even used it to help organise my office so I could turn the space into somewhere suitable for recording future videos.

I find the idea of AI supporting neurodivergent people particularly interesting because so many of our difficulties involve organising, remembering, initiating or switching between tasks. Having something external that can provide reminders, break activities into manageable steps or offer encouragement could potentially remove some of that mental effort.

Of course, that does not mean every gadget will work. That is the point of the channel. I want to test these things in actual everyday situations rather than assume something is helpful because a company says it is.

We already have more experiments planned, including sleep gadgets, an unusual phone unlike anything I have used before and other technology that might help with the difficulties we experience.

Alongside this, we are relaunching 8DHD Life, which will focus more on personal experiences, discussions, trauma, neurodivergence and the things that do not always get talked about openly. I want one channel where we experiment with products and another where we can have honest conversations about what living with these conditions actually feels like.

Music for the Brain That Never Seems to Switch Off

Music has become another enormous part of my life and the 8DHD project.

We already have an album on Spotify called Static, along with an 8D version. The music is electronic dance music, but the lyrics are much more personal than people might expect from that genre.

Each song explores something connected to the more difficult side of living with AuDHD. Burnout, feeling overwhelmed, masking, rejection, emotional exhaustion and that strange feeling of being lost inside your own head.

For me, music has always been a way of expressing things that are difficult to explain in ordinary conversation. Sometimes I can spend hours trying to describe a feeling, but turning it into lyrics and music makes it easier to understand.

The 8D versions are something I particularly enjoy creating. If you have never listened to 8D audio before, it uses headphone-based effects to make the sound feel as though it is moving around you rather than coming directly from two speakers.

Some people enjoy that movement and immersion because it gives their attention something to follow. It can be an enjoyable sensory experience, although everybody's sensory preferences are different and what helps one person relax might overwhelm somebody else.

We are now working on the next album, Overload.

Where Static explores the darker, sadder and more exhausting parts of my AuDHD, Overload is going in the opposite direction. This album is about the hyperactive, energetic, stimmy side of my brain. The side that wants movement, excitement, bass, repetition and constant stimulation.

I think that contrast is important because neurodivergence is not always about struggling. Sometimes it is about having an enormous amount of energy or finding something that brings genuine excitement. Sometimes it is about dancing around your kitchen because a particular sound scratches exactly the right part of your brain.

Overload will also have an 8D version, and you can already explore our existing music by searching for 8DHD on Spotify.

Creating a Website That I Wish Had Existed When I Was Younger

Our website is becoming the main home for everything we are building.

The original idea came from something I have experienced personally and seen discussed repeatedly online. So many people spend years wondering why they feel different, why certain things seem harder for them and why their brains do not appear to work the way everybody expects.

Getting an assessment can be difficult, particularly when waiting lists are long or somebody does not know where to begin.

That is why we created detailed ADHD and autism self-exploration tests on the website. We have also experimented with using webcam-based attention activities to give people another way of exploring how their focus behaves during particular tasks.

These are not diagnostic tools, and a webcam cannot determine whether somebody has ADHD or autism. The idea is to encourage reflection, provide information and help people recognise experiences they might want to discuss with a qualified professional.

I spent so much of my younger life feeling like there was something wrong with me without understanding why I experienced the world differently. If something we have created encourages somebody to understand themselves a little earlier, that alone makes it worthwhile.

But I did not want the website to become somewhere people only visited to read about difficulties.

I wanted it to have experiences too.

Games That Give Our Brains Somewhere to Go

We have already created free games on the website that can be controlled using body movements. Rather than simply sitting and pressing buttons, you can use movement to interact with what is happening on the screen.

I love the idea of combining gaming with physical movement because I know how difficult it can be to motivate myself to exercise when the activity itself does not interest me. Give me a game with something to achieve, however, and suddenly I have a reason to keep moving.

We are now developing several other games, each designed around a different type of experience.

The first is Moodlings: Brainwilds. You might already recognise the Moodlings from some of our social media artwork and comics. They are little creatures connected to different emotions, behaviours and experiences.

Brainwilds is being developed as a relaxing progression game where players can explore, collect creatures, gather gold and gradually build their experience. I wanted something that offers that enjoyable feeling of progression without constantly demanding fast reactions or creating pressure.

For some people with ADHD, collecting, discovering and completing small goals can make an activity easier to stay engaged with. For others, particularly people who find unpredictable or demanding games overwhelming, having a calmer environment and the freedom to progress at their own pace may be more enjoyable.

Another project is Blossom Pier Fishing.

This one is exactly what it sounds like. A relaxing fishing game set beside a pink rainbow lake where you can sit, catch fish and enjoy a peaceful environment.

The idea came from wanting somewhere to mentally disappear for a little while without feeling like I needed to achieve anything important. Sometimes my brain wants stimulation, but sometimes it needs something repetitive and predictable that does not require much decision-making.

Fishing games can offer that combination of anticipation, repetition and small rewards. There is something satisfying about waiting for a bite, discovering what you have caught and gradually building a collection.

Then we have our fitness game, which is being developed for use with a walking pad.

The idea is an endless runner that tracks your body position while you walk, allowing you to interact with obstacles and challenges through movement.

I am interested in whether turning exercise into something interactive can make it easier for people who struggle with motivation or find traditional workouts boring. If walking becomes part of a game rather than another chore, it might encourage people to move more often.

These are still developing projects, but they all come from the same idea. Different brains need different experiences, so why not create a variety of ways to engage with them?

Comics, Schools and the Children Who Are Constantly Misunderstood

This is probably one of the most personal parts of everything I have been creating.

I had a difficult childhood, and I often felt let down by the adults and professionals who were supposed to understand and protect me.

I know what it feels like to be judged by your behaviour without anybody trying to understand what is happening inside your head.

That experience has stayed with me.

It is also why we started creating educational comics about neurodivergence.

The idea is to help parents, teachers, professionals and other people understand what might actually be happening inside a neurodivergent child's mind when they see behaviour they do not understand.

A child who refuses to enter a classroom might be overwhelmed by noise, uncertainty or sensory input. A teenager who appears rude might be struggling to process information or regulate their emotions. A child who seems distracted might be trying desperately to concentrate while everything around them competes for their attention.

These are possibilities rather than explanations for every child, but that is exactly why understanding matters.

I wanted our comics to show the difference between what somebody sees on the outside and what the person might actually be experiencing.

We have now started expanding this into a collection of PSHE books designed around neurodivergence, with the aim of creating resources that schools can use to encourage understanding, discussion and empathy.

We are also working on children's books with a friend, following a young girl's experiences of growing up with autistic and ADHD traits. The stories will explore everyday situations through her perspective, helping readers understand her feelings, reactions and needs.

I want neurodivergent children to recognise themselves in these stories, but I also want other children to read them and start understanding why somebody might react differently.

Sometimes understanding starts with something as simple as seeing the world through somebody else's eyes.

Communication Without Having to Speak

One of those children's book ideas led to something completely different this week.

We started designing a hoodie.

Not just an ordinary hoodie, but something designed for people who sometimes struggle to communicate verbally.

There are situations where somebody might know exactly what they want to say but cannot get the words out. That might happen during a shutdown, periods of severe overwhelm or for people who communicate without speech more generally.

The communication hoodie is designed with visual prompts that somebody can point towards to express basic needs, feelings or difficulties.

Instead of having to explain everything verbally, somebody might be able to indicate that they need space, feel overwhelmed, need help or are experiencing something uncomfortable.

It is intended as an additional communication option, not a replacement for established communication aids.

Then, because apparently my brain does not believe in stopping at one idea, the hoodie led to another project.

A communication mat for school desks.

The idea is to give children who are non-speaking or temporarily unable to speak a simple visual resource they can point to during lessons.

I started imagining how useful something like that might be for a child who needs the toilet, feels overwhelmed, wants help or is struggling to communicate what is wrong.

Visual communication resources already play an important role in many educational settings, and I wanted to explore how we could create something practical and accessible as part of our own resources.

The hoodie and desk mat are still being developed, but I really like where these ideas are going.

Alongside the communication hoodie, we have also started creating clothing featuring some of the artwork people have enjoyed on our social media pages. The idea is to turn messages and designs that people relate to into something they can wear.

For some people, clothing can also be a way of expressing parts of their identity that they find difficult to explain in conversation.

Books, Trauma and Making Sense of My Own Life

Writing has been another big part of my journey.

I previously wrote a book about the 17 years of extreme trauma I experienced during my childhood. It was difficult to write because it meant revisiting memories and experiences that had shaped so much of my life.

But it also helped me understand how those experiences influenced the adult I became.

I think that is part of why I continue creating things around neurodivergence and trauma. I spent so long trying to understand myself that now, whenever I learn something, I want to turn it into something that might help somebody else.

We have since developed other books, including a dopamine doom-scrolling book and a neurodivergent sex coaching guide.

The doom-scrolling book explores the way our attention can become trapped in constant stimulation, while the sex guide looks at topics such as communication, sensory experiences and the way neurodivergence can influence intimacy and relationships.

These subjects might appear completely unrelated, but to me they are different parts of the same experience. Living with AuDHD does not stop when you leave school or finish work. It affects how you spend your free time, how you communicate, how you develop relationships and how you understand yourself.

We are also continuing this weekly blog and creating educational reels where I talk openly about my everyday experiences.

I want people to see what neurodivergence can actually look like in adult life, including the uncomfortable parts that do not always fit into a neat educational infographic.

The Neurodivergent Nicks and Learning to Parent Ourselves

Another book project we have started is The Neurodivergent Nicks.

This will explore growing up with AuDHD from male and female perspectives, looking at the different experiences, expectations and difficulties that can shape childhood.

One of the central ideas is learning to give ourselves the understanding and support we might not have received when we were younger.

I often think about how differently my childhood might have felt if somebody had understood what was happening inside my head rather than simply responding to what they saw on the outside.

What if somebody had explained sensory overload?

What if somebody had recognised that certain behaviours were signs of distress rather than deliberate defiance?

What if I had been taught how my brain worked instead of spending so many years believing I was fundamentally different from everybody else?

I cannot go back and change those experiences, but I can try to create resources that make those conversations easier for somebody else.

That is the thinking behind these books.

They are not about pretending we can undo childhood experiences. They are about understanding the needs that were missed and learning how to respond to them differently now.

Moodlings Cards and a Book That Changes Depending on Your Brain

You may have noticed the Moodlings appearing in some of our social media posts and comics.

We are now developing them into a collection of cards that can be used in different ways depending on somebody's age, understanding and abilities.

I like the idea of having one collection that can support several different styles of play. Younger children might use the creatures to recognise and discuss emotions, while older players could use them in more developed games involving collecting, choices and strategy.

The Moodlings are intended to make conversations about emotions and behaviours feel a little more approachable, particularly for people who struggle to identify or explain how they feel.

Then there is another project that has probably taken the idea of a neurodivergent book further than anything else we are working on.

A book where you choose your story.

But the idea is that the story changes depending on the type of brain and experiences the reader brings to it.

An autistic reader could follow a very different journey from somebody with ADHD. An AuDHD reader could face different combinations of choices and challenges, while a neurotypical reader might experience situations from another perspective entirely.

Of course, no two people with ADHD or autism experience the world in exactly the same way. The aim is to explore different patterns and perspectives through interactive storytelling rather than suggest that everybody with a particular diagnosis thinks alike.

I love this concept because it could help people experience situations through perspectives they might never normally consider.

Imagine making a decision in a story that seems perfectly reasonable to you, only to discover that somebody else interprets the same situation completely differently.

That is something I wish more people understood about neurodivergence.

Sometimes the difficulty is not that one person is right and another is wrong. Sometimes two people are experiencing the same situation through completely different interpretations.

So Is This Hyperfocus, Distraction or Something Else?

Looking back over everything I have just written, I can understand why people sometimes ask how I manage to work on so many different things.

The answer is that I do not always manage it particularly well.

That is part of the reality I wanted to share.

I can wake up with one idea and end the day with six more projects. I can become so interested in solving one problem that I accidentally create three others. I can spend hours designing something that might help somebody remember to eat while completely forgetting to eat myself.

There is a certain irony in that.

Hyperfocus can be incredibly useful when I am working on something that genuinely interests me. I can become absorbed in learning, creating, problem solving and experimenting with ideas. But it can also make switching tasks difficult, cause me to lose track of time and leave important everyday responsibilities sitting untouched.

Distraction and hyperfocus are not complete opposites either. Sometimes an interesting distraction is exactly what starts a new period of hyperfocus. I begin doing one thing, notice another idea, become fascinated by it and suddenly that becomes the most important thing in the world.

For me, creativity and executive dysfunction can exist side by side. I can develop a detailed concept for an entire video game and still struggle to remember why I walked into the kitchen.

I also know that having lots of ideas does not automatically mean every idea will become a finished product. Some projects take months or years. Others change direction completely as I learn more about what people actually need.

And I am learning that this is okay.

I do not need to turn every thought into a finished product by tomorrow.

I do not need to measure every productive day by how many things I completed.

Sometimes exploring an idea teaches me something useful, even if the finished result looks completely different from what I originally imagined.

Why I Am Building All of This

There is something that connects every one of these projects, even though they might seem completely unrelated.

I know what it feels like to need help and not know how to ask for it. I know what it feels like to be misunderstood, to struggle with things other people find simple and to spend years trying to understand why your brain works differently.

I also know how much difference the right support, environment or understanding can make.

That is why I want 8DHD to become more than a social media page.

I want it to be somewhere people can learn about themselves, explore different experiences, enjoy music, play games, discover useful products and find resources that might make everyday life easier.

Some people might discover us through a funny ADHD meme. Others might find a comic that helps them understand their child. Somebody else might listen to a song and recognise a feeling they have never been able to explain.

Another person might just want to spend half an hour fishing beside a pink lake because the real world has been too much that day.

All of those things matter to me.

I am not claiming that every project will work for everybody, or that a game, gadget, book or piece of clothing can solve the difficulties of living with neurodivergence. But I do believe that offering different ways to understand, communicate and engage with the world can make a difference.

And perhaps the most interesting part is that many of these ideas started as distractions.

I was supposed to be doing something else.

I noticed a problem.

My brain became interested.

Then I wanted to see whether I could do something about it.

For much of my life, I have seen distraction as one of the things that makes everything harder. It still does. There are days when I desperately wish I could simply finish the task I started without my brain taking me somewhere completely different.

But I am beginning to recognise that some of those unexpected directions have led me towards things I genuinely care about.

The challenge now is learning how to keep creating without exhausting myself in the process.

I want to finish these projects, enjoy building them and hopefully see people benefit from them. I also want to remember that there is a person behind all of this who still needs food, water, sleep and the occasional day without opening his laptop.

That last one might be the most difficult project of them all.

If you have been following 8DHD, sharing our posts, listening to the music, reading our comics or simply encouraging what we are doing, thank you. Your support genuinely helps us keep building these ideas and reaching more people.

There is still so much we want to bring to life, and I hope you will continue following the journey as these projects develop.

I started this week planning to stay in bed and do absolutely nothing.

Somehow I ended up building a small universe around the way my brain works.

I still have not mastered switching it off.

But perhaps I am getting a little better at understanding what to do when it switches itself on.

Living with AuDHD is weird because some weeks I feel like I can do everything. Other weeks, I can spend an entire day walking around my own house wondering what I was supposed to be doing.

This week has been one of those weeks.

It started with cleaning my bedroom. That was the plan. I picked up a cup to take downstairs, walked into the kitchen and somehow ended up scrubbing the entire kitchen instead. Cupboards, sides, everything.

The bedroom? Completely forgotten.

That pretty much sums up one of the biggest things I struggle with when it comes to executive function. I can be doing something, notice something else on the way, stop what I am doing, start the new thing, notice another thing, and suddenly I have six half-finished jobs and absolutely no idea what the original mission was.

I will pick up a plate to put it away. Halfway to the cupboard, I notice something on the side. I put the plate down and pick up the other thing. Then something else catches my attention.

Twenty minutes later, the plate is still sitting somewhere random and I am cleaning something I did not even know needed cleaning.

My brain basically runs on side quests.

The strange thing is that, from the outside, it can look productive. I cleaned the kitchen. I did something useful. But inside my head, there is still this feeling of, “Why can’t I just do the thing I actually planned to do?”

Tuesday was probably the clearest example of that. I spent most of the day feeling completely lost. Not sad exactly. Just lost.

I kept pacing around, trying to remember what I needed to do. I knew there were things I needed to do. I could feel them sitting somewhere in my brain, but I just could not grab hold of them.

That feeling is difficult to explain if you have never experienced it. You know you should be doing something, but there is no clear starting point. Every task feels important and invisible at the same time.

So I created an AuDHD cleaning log and a work schedule. Basically, I needed something outside my brain to tell me what my brain keeps forgetting.

A tick list. Something I can look at and think, “Right. That. Do that next.”

I have even had to add eating and drinking to it. At the moment, I seem perfectly capable of remembering that coffee exists. Actual food and water apparently require project management.

That is another part of ADHD that people do not always see. Sometimes the basics do not feel basic. Eating, drinking, cleaning, answering someone, starting work and getting dressed are all simple things, but when executive function disappears, knowing what to do and actually doing it can feel like two completely separate systems.

Then there is hyperfocus.

While I could barely organise myself during the day, I somehow managed to disappear into the new RuneScape game. That grind scratches something in my brain. There is always another goal, another number going up, another thing to work towards and another little reward.

My brain likes being active. It likes having something to chase. When there is nothing clearly in front of me, I often feel lost. When there is something that completely grabs my attention, I can disappear into it for hours.

Both things come from the same brain, which is probably one of the strangest things about ADHD. I can struggle to start something important for hours, then focus on something interesting until the rest of the world disappears.

Plans have been another big thing this week. I arranged to see a friend on Wednesday, and I was genuinely looking forward to it. Then Wednesday arrived and getting out of bed suddenly felt like too much.

The thought of getting ready, leaving the house, travelling, talking, being around another person and having to be switched on felt exhausting before I had even moved.

So I cancelled. Almost immediately, I felt better.

That feeling brings its own guilt. How do you explain that you really did want to see someone, but the moment the expectation disappeared, your whole nervous system relaxed?

It can make you question yourself. Was I actually tired? Did I not really want to go? Am I just being unreliable?

But sometimes I think the answer is simpler. Sometimes the pressure of having to do something becomes heavier than the actual thing. Removing the expectation removes the weight.

This week has also been heavy emotionally. There has been a lot happening with family, my relationship and friends, and my head has felt overloaded. I have had meltdowns and moments where I have wanted to disappear and hide.

I have even felt like I have been masking at home.

That one has been difficult. Home is supposed to be the place where the mask comes off. It is where you can stop performing, stop checking your face and tone, stop monitoring your reactions and stop worrying about how much of yourself you are showing.

When you feel like you have to mask there too, there is nowhere left for your brain to properly switch off. That is when burnout starts creeping in.

For me, tattoos have strangely become one of the things that helps. I joke that it is therapy week when I get tattooed, but there is something about it that genuinely resets something in my head.

For a few hours, there is one thing happening. One sensation. One place to be.

I am not pacing around trying to remember what I am meant to do. I am not juggling ten jobs or worrying about messages, plans and expectations. I just sit there.

Maybe that is why it helps. It forces my brain into the present.

This week has made me think a lot about how much of living with AuDHD is actually about building things around yourself. Lists, routines, timers, schedules, games, music, comfort things, whatever helps.

For years, I think a lot of us spend our lives trying to force our brains to work the way everyone tells us they should. Remember things. Focus. Stick to the plan. Stop getting distracted. Stop cancelling. Stop being too much.

Eventually, you start thinking that maybe the better question is not, “Why can’t I do this normally?”

Maybe it is, “What does my brain need so I can actually do this?”

Sometimes that answer is a chore chart. Sometimes it is cancelling plans. Sometimes it is RuneScape. Sometimes it is coffee. Sometimes it is getting another tattoo while your bank account quietly begs for mercy.

The point is that I am slowly learning that understanding how my brain works is more useful than constantly fighting with it.

I still get frustrated. I still lose entire days. I still walk into rooms and forget why I am there. I still start cleaning one thing and somehow end up renovating another part of the house.

But every time I notice one of these patterns, I understand myself a little more.

Maybe that is what this whole thing is about. Not becoming better at pretending my brain works differently, but becoming better at living with the brain I actually have.