The infinite tab: my ADHD brain meets ChatGPT

It started with a simple question

I opened ChatGPT planning to ask one thing:

“Help me write my to-do list for today.”

15 minutes later, I was deep in a prompt-engineering rabbit-hole, tracking how many tabs I had open (32), and wondering whether ChatGPT could summarize my entire browsing history.
That’s when I realized: ChatGPT might understand my words — but it doesn’t understand my brain.

To be clear: I have Attention-Deficit/Hyperactivity Disorder (ADHD). My brain comes with an infinite tabs mode: multiple windows open, jumping between topics, chasing novelty, losing track of direction — but also, when it works, hyperfocusing and producing things I didn’t expect. ChatGPT sits in that mix: an amazing tool, and at the same time… kind of a mirror.

What ADHD looks like inside a chat window

Using ChatGPT with ADHD isn’t just “using a tool that helps focus” — it’s engaging a system built for one kind of attention, with a brain wired for another.

Let’s break down a few traits and how they play out in chat.

Working-memory gaps
People with ADHD often struggle with holding and manipulating information in short-term memory (working memory). Frontiers
In a ChatGPT conversation, that can mean: halfway through a chain of prompts I often forget why I asked question #2 after the answer to question #1. ChatGPT doesn’t automatically summarize the yesterday-thread unless I ask it to.

Dopamine-driven novelty seeking
ADHD brains often involve dysregulated dopamine signalling, which is linked to reward-processing, motivation and novelty-seeking behaviour. Frontiers
In practical terms: the moment I open ChatGPT, every “What if I ask…” becomes tempting. A quick “help me write an email” can spiral into “let’s redesign the email, then build a template, then ask how to automate it…”
This feels like creative flow… until it becomes decision paralysis.

Hyperfocus (yes, that part too)
That famous ADHD “superpower.”: when something grabs the brain’s interest, you can dive deep. ChatGPT fuels it beautifully — until hours disappear and my original task remains untouched.

Task initiation issues
ADHD often makes starting the work harder than finishing. ChatGPT lowers the friction: it writes the first line, builds the outline… sometimes all of it. Helpful — until I realize I never actually started the doing part. In that way, ChatGPT feels like the perfect assistant. Until you realize you’re outsourcing the entire initiation, and you still don’t know when to stop.

So. When I met an AI designed for clarity, logic, linearity — and my brain thrives in branching logic, chaos, novelty… — sparks flew.

The duality: superpower vs spiral trap

Here’s the thing: ChatGPT with ADHD can be magical — and messy.

For example: I’ll ask ChatGPT: “Help me start the intro to my article.” It gives a solid first paragraph in a minute. I feel good. Then I ask: “Now suggest three different angles.” It gives them. Then: “Which one is most clickable?” It picks one. Then: “Rewrite it for LinkedIn.” Then: “Now write five tweets about it.” Two hours later, no article written, but five tweets ready.

My brain says: “Look how much we did!”
My to-do list says: “Write article.”
My calendar says: “Overdue.”

It’s like talking to an assistant who never gets tired — which sounds great until you realize neither do your distractions.

Who was this built for?

Here’s where things get interesting. If most AI chat tools assume linear focus, short attention spans, and goal‐oriented behaviour — what happens when your brain works differently?

Most UX, interface designs, prompt flows and conversational agents assume: “User knows where they’re going, stays on topic, finishes the task then stops.”

But ADHD brains often don’t follow that path. They branch, leap, and remix.

AI tools like ChatGPT are phenomenal when: you have a clear question, a clear goal, a steady attention span. But what if your brain’s path is zig-zag, circular, overlapping? The cognitive friction builds: you ask ChatGPT to summarize what we did yesterday — but you don’t remember what you did yesterday. You change topic mid-chat. You get distracted by the “what else” possibilities.

In short: If AI reflects the people who built it, maybe it’s time more of us (neurodiverse brains included) sat at that table. Design that expects constant context-keeping or steady attention unintentionally excludes those who work differently.

Small wins and self-hacks

Despite the mess, ChatGPT can absolutely be a helpful tool if we use it strategically.
Here are a few ADHD-friendly hacks:

Time-boxing buddy: Ask: “Let’s set a 10-minute focus sprint: I’ll write, you’ll remind me in 10 minutes, then we summarize what I did.”

Context catcher: At the start of each chat session, type: “Here’s what I was doing before I lost track: …” Then ask ChatGPT to summarize your current project. Keeps memory gaps in check.

Prompt parking lot: When you get new ideas during a chat: “Hold on to this idea for later: …” Then continue on the task. Prevents spinning off into tangents immediately.

Compassion coach: Use ChatGPT to gently reframe thoughts: “I lost track again. How can I respond to myself kindly, and plan a next tiny step?”

Sprint + reward: Because the dopamine-seeking brain loves novelty: “Work 20 min, then I’ll ask ChatGPT to generate a quick new topic I can explore next.” It becomes both task and mini-reward.

Closing thought

ChatGPT didn’t fix my focus. It didn’t give me perfect attention. What it did do was highlight how my brain works and how the tools I use often expect a different type of brain.
Maybe the problem isn’t just my focus. Maybe it’s the way our tools expect me to think.

Next up: Part 2 — AI wasn’t built for brains like ours.
We’ll look at what neuroinclusive AI design could — and should — look like.

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