The 8 Physical Symptoms That Prove It’s ADHD, Not Laziness (I Have the Test Scores to Back It Up)

My brain's 'start button' is clinically broken. Yours might be too.

I scored at or above the 99th percentile on executive function testing.

Let me explain what that actually means, because it’s the opposite of how percentiles work on IQ tests:

On the BRIEF-A (Behavior Rating Inventory of Executive Function), higher scores measure greater impairment. The 99th percentile doesn’t mean I’m better at executive function than 99% of people. It means my executive function is more impaired than 99% of people—including 99% of people who have ADHD.

Specifically, I scored at or above the 99th percentile on:

• Metacognition (planning, organizing, completing tasks)

• Working Memory (holding and manipulating information)

• Inhibit (impulse control, thinking before acting)

• Plan/Organize (managing current and future tasks)

• Task Monitor (checking your work, catching mistakes)

• Organization of Materials (keeping track of things)

Translation: My brain’s “start button” is broken. My ability to hold information while working with it is broken. My impulse control is broken. My ability to plan and organize is broken. My ability to catch my own mistakes is broken. My ability to keep track of physical objects is broken.

That’s not a flex. That’s a fact from a neuropsychological evaluation that took six hours and cost more than my monthly rent. The kind with actual standardized testing, not a TikTok questionnaire.

And here’s what nobody tells you about having executive dysfunction at the 99th percentile: Your body isn’t lazy. It’s screaming.

For 30 years, I knew I was different. I just didn’t know why. I knew I had to work twice as hard as everyone else to get the same results. When I studied for my Series 7 license, I made over 2,500 flashcards. Not because I wanted to. Because I needed the repetition. While other people studied for a few weeks, I needed months of grinding the same material over and over until it stuck.

I built workarounds. I created systems. I figured out how to function in a world that wasn’t built for brains like mine. And I thought that was just... life. That everyone had to work this hard; I was just more honest about it.

Then I got tested. 99th percentile. And suddenly, every coping mechanism I’d built made sense. Every extra hour I’d spent. Every system I’d created.

I wasn’t working harder because I was more dedicated. I was working harder because my brain required it.

Now I’m on medication. And for the first time in my life, I can manage effectively without burning myself to the ground in the process. Tasks that used to take me four hours take one. Things I used to forget? I remember them. That constant static in my brain? It’s quieter.

But here’s what nobody tells you before you get diagnosed and medicated: Your body has been giving you signals your entire life. You just thought they were character flaws.

So before you spiral into another shame cycle about why you “can’t just do the thing,” let me show you what ADHD actually looks like when you stop blaming your character and start looking at your body.

1. Your Body Physically Hurts When You Try to Start Tasks

Not metaphorically. Not “it’s hard.” I mean your chest tightens, your stomach knots up, and your muscles tense like you’re about to get punched.

That’s executive dysfunction manifesting as physical pain.

On my neuropsych assessment, I scored in the 98th percentile for “Initiate” deficits on the BRIEF-A (Behavior Rating Inventory of Executive Function). Translation: My brain’s “start button” is clinically broken. And when your brain can’t send the signal to start, your body interprets that as danger.

Your nervous system thinks the task is a threat. So it activates your fight-or-flight response. To do the dishes.

“Your nervous system thinks the task is a threat. So it activates your fight-or-flight response. To do the dishes.”

This isn’t laziness. This is your body protecting you from what your brain has labeled as impossible.

2. You’re Exhausted After “Doing Nothing” All Day

People without ADHD don’t understand this one. They see you sitting on the couch scrolling your phone for three hours and think you’re resting.

You’re not resting. You’re actively fighting your brain to try to do the thing you know you need to do.

That internal battle burns more energy than running a marathon. My assessment documentation notes: “Patient reports significant mental fatigue from attempting to regulate attention and initiate tasks.”

Your brain is burning through glucose and cortisol just trying to get your body to move. And when you finally give up? That’s when the shame spiral starts, which burns even more energy.

By the end of the day, you’re not tired from doing nothing. You’re exhausted from fighting yourself.

3. Your Heart Races Before Simple Tasks

This isn’t anxiety. It’s anticipatory distress caused by executive dysfunction.

My ADHD assessment noted “significant emotional dysregulation” and “difficulty with emotional control” in the 93rd percentile. When your brain can’t predict if you’ll be able to complete a task, your body treats every task like a potential failure. So your heart rate spikes.

The “simple” task isn’t simple when your brain has to manually manage every single step because your executive function isn’t doing it automatically.

Checking email requires: open laptop, find email app, scan subject lines, decide which to open, read email, decide on response, formulate response, type response, send. That’s eight executive function decisions. For one email.

“Your heart’s not racing because you’re dramatic. It’s racing because your brain is drowning.”

4. You Can’t Regulate Your Body Temperature

ADHD affects your autonomic nervous system—the part that regulates body temperature, heart rate, and digestion without you thinking about it.

When your nervous system is in chronic dysregulation (hello, 99th percentile ADHD), it can’t maintain homeostasis. Your body’s thermostat is broken.

This is why people with ADHD wear hoodies in summer and strip down in winter. It’s not that you’re “not paying attention to the weather.” Your internal temperature regulation system is failing.

The autonomic nervous system runs on autopilot in neurotypical brains. In ADHD brains, that autopilot is faulty. You’re either freezing or sweating, and there’s often no in-between.

5. You’re Either Starving or Forgetting to Eat Entirely

Interoception is your ability to sense what’s happening inside your body. Hunger, thirst, needing to pee, being tired.

ADHD fucks with interoception.

My assessment documented “difficulty with self-monitoring” in the 98th percentile. I literally cannot reliably sense my own body’s signals.

So when people say “just eat when you’re hungry”—that advice assumes your brain is sending hunger signals reliably. In ADHD, it doesn’t. You might not notice hunger until you’re dizzy from low blood sugar. Or you feel starving an hour after eating a full meal because your brain’s satiety signals are equally unreliable.

This isn’t disordered eating. This is ADHD disconnecting you from your body’s basic functions.

6. You Injure Yourself More Than Seems Normal

ADHD affects spatial processing and impulse control. My assessment showed I scored in the “High Average” range for processing speed but “Very Much Above Average” for impulsivity (77th percentile).

Translation: My brain moves faster than my body can keep up with, and I don’t think before I move.

This shows up as walking into things you’ve passed a thousand times. Tripping over nothing. Grabbing something hot and forgetting it’s hot in the split second between seeing it and touching it.

People with ADHD have higher rates of injuries across the board—not because we’re reckless, but because our executive function can’t coordinate “think” with “do” fast enough to prevent the injury.

“This isn’t clumsiness. This is impaired executive function failing to coordinate ‘think’ with ‘do.’”

7. Your Sleep Is Chaos No Matter What You Try

Circadian rhythm disorders are a core feature of ADHD, not a side effect.

My assessment noted I have “difficulty with sleep despite good sleep hygiene.” You can try every sleep hack on the internet—blackout curtains, white noise, melatonin, magnesium, sleep restriction therapy, cognitive behavioral therapy for insomnia—and none of it works consistently because your brain’s internal clock is broken.

ADHD brains produce melatonin later and metabolize it faster. We’re hardwired to be night owls in a world built for morning people. And when we finally fall asleep, our sleep architecture is fucked—less REM, more awakenings, lighter sleep overall.

So when you can’t fall asleep until 3 AM and then can’t wake up until noon, you’re not lazy. You’re fighting biology.

8. You Feel Physically Trapped in Your Body When Understimulated

This is the one people get wrong about ADHD. They think hyperactivity means “bouncing off the walls.”

For many people with ADHD, it means feeling like your skin is too tight. Like you need to crawl out of your body. Like every muscle is vibrating and you can’t make it stop.

My assessment documented “constant movement, fidgeting, answering quickly then changing his mind” during testing. The evaluator noted I “moved frequently during the interview and testing, often fidgeting in his seat.”

That’s not nervousness. That’s my nervous system trying to create the stimulation my brain isn’t generating internally.

When you’re understimulated, your body creates movement to try to wake your brain up. It’s called “stimming,” and it’s not voluntary. Leg bouncing. Skin picking. Finger tapping. Chewing on things.

Without enough dopamine, your body manufactures sensation anywhere it can find it.

When It’s ADHD vs. When It’s Something Else

Here’s how to tell the difference:

It’s ADHD if:

• These symptoms show up across multiple settings (work, home, relationships)

• They’ve been present since childhood, even if you didn’t recognize them

• They improve with stimulation (caffeine, novelty, urgency, interest)

• They worsen with boredom or routine

• Medication (if you try it) helps immediately

It might be something else if:

• Symptoms started after a specific trauma or life event

• They only show up in certain situations (just at work, just with certain people)

• Nothing improves them, not even high-interest activities

• You have significant mood changes beyond ADHD’s typical emotional dysregulation

And here’s the thing nobody tells you: It can be both. I have ADHD and Complex PTSD. The trauma made my ADHD symptoms worse. But the ADHD was there first—it’s just that trauma gave predators a roadmap to exploit it.

Here’s What Testing Actually Looks Like

My neuropsychological evaluation included:

• Behavior Rating Inventory of Executive Function (BRIEF-A): Both self-report and informant report showed clinically elevated scores at or above the 99th percentile. This measures impairment. Higher is worse.

• Conners Adult ADHD Rating Scales (CAARS): Documented symptoms of inattention, hyperactivity, and impulsivity in the “Very Much Above Average” range (meaning significantly more symptoms than typical).

• Conners Continuous Performance Test (CPT-3): Measured attention problems—showed deficits in inattentiveness specifically.

• Delis-Kaplan Executive Functioning System (D-KEFS): Assessed executive functions across multiple domains.

• Wechsler Adult Intelligence Scale (WAIS-IV): Measured cognitive functioning to establish baseline.

Here’s what most people don’t understand about ADHD testing: Executive function and intelligence are not the same thing.

You can have strong cognitive abilities but completely broken executive function. Think of it like this: I have a sports car engine, but the transmission is fucked. The car is fast. The parts just don’t work together.

My executive function is impaired at the 99th percentile. That means my brain’s ability to plan, organize, start tasks, control impulses, and manage working memory is broken worse than 99% of people—including 99% of people who have ADHD.

So when people say “but you’re so smart, how can you have ADHD?”—this is how. Intelligence and executive function are different systems. You can have one without the other.

Six hours of testing. Standardized measures. A licensed clinical psychologist. That’s what real ADHD assessment looks like.

Not a list on TikTok. Not a questionnaire you took while scrolling at 2 AM.

Your Body Isn’t Lazy. It’s ADHD.

I lived 30 years knowing I was different. I built elaborate systems to compensate. I worked twice as hard to get the same results. I made 2,500 flashcards for my Series 7 because that’s what my brain needed to learn what other people absorbed in a fraction of the time.

I thought everyone worked this hard. I thought I just had to figure out better systems, more hacks, more workarounds.

Then I got tested and found out my executive function is impaired at or above the 99th percentile. That means my brain’s ability to plan, organize, start tasks, monitor my work, control my impulses, and hold information in working memory is more broken than 99% of people who have ADHD.

And suddenly, everything made sense.

The physical pain when trying to start tasks. The exhaustion from “doing nothing.” The racing heart. The temperature dysregulation. The hunger that comes and goes without pattern. The injuries that seem to come out of nowhere. The sleep chaos. The feeling of being trapped in my own skin.

None of it was a character flaw.

It was neurology.

“I wasn’t working harder because I was more dedicated. I was working harder because my brain required it.”

Now that I’m medicated, I can finally work at a sustainable pace. Tasks don’t require the same Herculean effort. My brain doesn’t fight me at every step. I can manage my life effectively without burning myself to ash in the process.

But here’s what I want you to understand: If you’re reading this and recognizing yourself in these symptoms, your body isn’t lazy. It’s not weak. It’s not broken in the way you think it is.

It’s ADHD. And that’s not your fault.

If you recognize yourself in these 8 symptoms—especially if they’ve been there your whole life, across every setting, getting worse with boredom and better with stimulation—get tested.

Not by TikTok. By an actual neuropsychologist.

Because once you have documentation, two things happen:

1. You stop blaming yourself

2. You have proof when someone tries to weaponize your symptoms against you

I have both my ADHD diagnosis and documentation of two separate narcissists who targeted those symptoms specifically.

Your body has been trying to tell you something. It’s time to listen.

—Cody Taymore

Kill The Silence