34: A Healthy Way for ADHD Brains to Look Back on the Year!

A Healthy Way to Look Back on Your Year

Before diving into New Year’s resolutions, it’s worth pausing for something else first: a genuinely positive look back at the year that’s ending. Those of us with ADHD brains tend to get plenty of messaging about what we didn’t do, forgot to do, or meant to do. Before carrying any of that baggage into a new year, it’s worth balancing the scales.

A closet full of light

A small home maintenance moment sparked this whole idea. The fluorescent bulbs in a closet-turned-office had been slowly dimming for years, so gradually that the change was almost invisible day to day, the way a frog in slowly warming water never notices it should jump out. After finally replacing every burnt-out bulb at once, the space went from cave-like dimness to something bright enough to sunbathe in. Negative thinking works the same way in reverse: let it creep in slowly and the world gets darker in small increments you barely notice. Make a conscious decision to look for the light instead, and the difference is just as dramatic.

Seven categories, three each

Here’s a simple way to take stock of the year, broken into seven small groups of three. Take it slow, and give yourself real credit for each one.

Start with three strong family relationships you maintained this year, whether that’s a spouse, kids, parents, or siblings. Then three friends you can always count on, the people you can pick up the phone with after any stretch of time and pick right back up where you left off. If you can only think of one, that’s still a real win, and if none come to mind, that’s worth reaching out to someone about.

Next, three things you’re grateful for about your health, even something as simple as still being here, still able to move, still able to take the dog for a walk. Then three spots in your home that genuinely make you happy, the coffee corner that just works, the chair you love sinking into, the bed you’re glad to crawl into at night.

After that, three places you got to explore this year, even small ones like a favorite coffee shop or the park with your kids’ favorite slide. Then three memorable moments, the small, unplanned, magical ones that didn’t cost anything and weren’t scheduled: a video of your kids laughing over a lopsided gingerbread house, watching a movie together, whatever surfaces first.

Finally, three things you took a chance on or tried this year, whether or not they worked out. Trying and failing is still trying, still learning, still discovering something about yourself. Starting something entirely new, or attempting a from-scratch project that didn’t turn out quite right but tasted good anyway, both count.

Insignificant moments, held onto on purpose

None of these categories require a dramatic year. They just require noticing the small things that were actually there all along, the relationships, the moments, the quiet wins, and choosing to give them the weight they deserve before moving on to whatever comes next.

Until next time, continue to choose joy.