Why I Often Feel Aloof: Living Between Connection and Disconnection as an AuDHD Adult
- Tim Aiello, MA, LPC, NCC, ADHD-CCSP, ASDCS
- 3 minutes ago
- 5 min read
By Tim Aiello, MA, LPC, NCC, ADHD-CCSP
Clinical Director, Myndset Therapeutics
There’s a word I’ve used to describe myself more than I’d like: aloof.
I don’t mean cold or uncaring — in fact, I care so deeply that it hurts sometimes. What I mean is that weird, untethered, emotionally fuzzy state where I feel like I’m hovering just outside my body, watching life happen but not quite in it.
As an adult living with both ADHD and Autism — or what’s often called AuDHD — this sense of disconnection has been a recurring theme in my life. For a long time, I thought it meant something was wrong with me. Now, I understand it as part of the neurodivergent nervous system experience.
In this post, I want to explore why this aloofness shows up, what it really means, and how I’ve come to understand it through both science and self-compassion. Because if you’re like me, you may have felt it too — and it’s time we talked about it.
1. The Social Disconnect Is Neurological, Not Personal
Autistic brains process social and emotional information differently. That’s not a defect — it’s a difference in wiring. We tend to rely more on conscious analysis than intuitive decoding of social cues (Livingston & Happé, 2017). This means that where others might “just know” how someone feels or what’s expected in a conversation, we might be searching for context clues, scripts, or even just trying to stay regulated enough to engage.
Add ADHD into the mix, and you’re juggling impulsivity, distractibility, and a fast-moving internal monologue. It becomes easy to miss cues or feel like you’re watching social life instead of being in it. This combo can make us feel like we’re floating on the edge of connection — close, but not quite anchored.
For me, it’s felt like standing in a crowded room with everyone speaking a language I only half understand. I want to join in, but something’s off. That “off” feeling? That’s the disconnect. And it’s not because I don’t care — it’s because my brain and body are working overtime just to stay present.
2. A Nervous System on High Alert Doesn’t Want to Bond — It Wants to Survive
According to Polyvagal Theory (Porges, 2011), our nervous system is constantly scanning for cues of safety or danger. This happens beneath our conscious awareness and is called neuroception. Based on what it senses, our body shifts into one of three primary states:
Ventral Vagal – calm, connected, open to social engagement
Sympathetic – activated, anxious, mobilized for action
Dorsal Vagal – shut down, numb, disconnected
Many of us with AuDHD live in a body that’s stuck cycling between the latter two states. Because of chronic overstimulation, trauma, or environments that don’t feel safe or accommodating, our nervous system doesn’t easily settle into the calm ventral state where connection happens.
That “aloof” feeling is often a dorsal vagal state. I’m not being cold — I’m in shutdown. My system has gone offline to protect me. And sometimes, I’m in a sympathetic buzz, wired and hyper-aware but unable to actually connect. Either way, my body is prioritizing survival over intimacy. That’s not a character flaw — it’s neurobiology.
3. Executive Function Overload Feels Like Emotional Distance
ADHD impacts executive function — the brain’s management system for planning, organizing, regulating emotions, shifting focus, and more (Barkley, 2014). Autism often brings sensory sensitivities, literal thinking, and a deep need for predictability (Lai et al., 2014).
When I’m trying to decode what someone said, tune out a flickering light, manage my emotional response, and remember what I was going to say next — I might look like I’m not engaged. But inside, there’s a full-blown orchestra playing at once.
That’s not aloofness. That’s bandwidth depletion. There’s simply not enough cognitive space left to perform “connection” the way others might expect it. So I might appear distant, but what’s really happening is executive system overload.
4. Masking and Identity Confusion Compound the Disconnection
Like many neurodivergent folks, I spent years masking — hiding or modifying my behavior to appear more neurotypical. I learned to script small talk, suppress stimming, and perform “normal.” Eventually, that mask became so second nature that I started forgetting who I was beneath it.
This camouflaging, while often necessary for survival, leads to burnout and identity diffusion (Hull et al., 2017). It can leave you emotionally hollow — disconnected from your authentic self.
So when people say, “You seem distant,” they don’t see the years of performance fatigue or the inner ache of not knowing how to truly be seen. That internal fracture — between who we are and who we pretend to be — is one of the most profound sources of “aloofness” I’ve ever known.
5. Alexithymia: Feeling Without Words
There’s also a concept called alexithymia, which is common in both ADHD and Autistic populations (Poquérusse et al., 2018). It’s the difficulty identifying and expressing emotions. You know you feel something, but you can’t name it, describe it, or sometimes even feel it clearly.
This has been one of my hardest challenges. I’ll sense that something’s off — maybe sadness, maybe overstimulation — but I can’t access the emotional clarity to do anything about it. And that can come off as aloof or emotionally unavailable. But the truth is, I’m often feeling too much — I just don’t always have the language or energy to share it.
What Helps Me (and Might Help You)
Here’s what I’ve found helps when that disconnected, aloof state shows up:
1. Nervous System Tracking
Notice what state you’re in — ventral, sympathetic, or dorsal. Labeling it gives you space and self-compassion. Tools like a nervous system tracker or journal can build long-term awareness.
2. Co-Regulation with Safe People
Connection doesn’t have to be verbal. Sitting in silence with someone safe, watching a show together, or even sharing a weighted blanket can help re-regulate your system and ease the sense of isolation.
3. Honor Your Shutdowns
Don’t force yourself to be “on.” If you’re in dorsal, try gentle movement, sensory comfort, or just permission to rest. Your body is doing what it thinks it needs to stay safe.
4. Name the Experience
Even saying, “I feel disconnected right now” is powerful. It makes the invisible visible and gives you back a sense of agency.
You’re Not Aloof — You’re Protecting Yourself
If you, like me, live with AuDHD, and you find yourself feeling aloof — please know it’s not a flaw. It’s not proof that you don’t care. It’s not something to be ashamed of.
It’s your nervous system doing its best to help you survive in a world that doesn’t always feel safe. It’s your executive system working overtime. It’s your emotions showing up without language. And it’s years of masking, trauma, and internal conflict asking for compassion.
So let’s stop calling it aloof. Let’s start calling it what it really is: adaptive detachment.
And from there, maybe we can soften, step by step, toward something safer. Toward something more connected — on our terms.
References
Barkley, R. A. (2014). Attention-Deficit Hyperactivity Disorder: A Handbook for Diagnosis and Treatment (4th ed.). Guilford Press.
Delahooke, M. (2019). Beyond Behaviors: Using Brain Science and Compassion to Understand and Solve Children’s Behavioral Challenges. PESI Publishing.
Hull, L., Petrides, K. V., Allison, C., Smith, P., Baron-Cohen, S., Lai, M. C., & Mandy, W. (2017). “Putting on my best normal”: Social camouflaging in adults with autism spectrum conditions. Journal of Autism and Developmental Disorders, 47(8), 2519–2534.
Lai, M.-C., Lombardo, M. V., & Baron-Cohen, S. (2014). Autism. The Lancet, 383(9920), 896–910.
Livingston, L. A., & Happé, F. (2017). Conceptualising compensation in neurodevelopmental disorders: Reflections from autism spectrum disorder. Neuroscience & Biobehavioral Reviews, 80, 729–742.
Poquérusse, J., Pastore, L., Dellantonio, S., & Esposito, G. (2018). Alexithymia and autism spectrum disorder: A complex relationship. Frontiers in Psychology, 9, 1196.
Porges, S. W. (2011). The Polyvagal Theory: Neurophysiological Foundations of Emotions, Attachment, Communication, and Self-Regulation. Norton.
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