So, it’s November 3rd, two days before the election in the U.S., and I’ve been staring at a blank Google Doc for about 30 minutes, unsure how to start this essay. What do you write on the eve of a U.S. election (well, the eve of the eve) — an event that holds massive implications not just for residents here but also globally? I’m noticing I’m feeling a lot of anxiety about what might happen in the coming days, and I imagine many of you might be feeling anxious and uncertain this week as well.

[While I’m not directly addressing the political situation in the United States, it is something I do care about deeply. I choose to keep some boundaries here, but if you’re interested in learning more about why I have these boundaries and more of what I feel about this, I’ve written up a little bit about my approach at the bottom of this article.] 

So, I’m not going to write about my beliefs attempting to persuade you on what you should do or to align your beliefs with mine on a particular topic — that’s a deeply personal choice between you and your conscience, values, or beliefs. Instead, I’m staying true to what I do here: sharing my personal experiences, reflections, and insights as I navigate this complex world as an AuDHD human.

So that's exactly what I’m doing here. The truth is, I’m really anxious about this election. About what the outcome could mean for our country and the world. There are identities within my family that make this election especially terrifying — identities I don’t speak openly about, due to the inherent vulnerability and fear involved. I’ve been glued to different news sites, refreshing polling data and craving some semblance of foresight, just to know what kind of future we might be facing, what kind of future I’ll need to protect my children from. If you’re in a similar position, know that I am feeling this deeply as well and taking actions aligned with my values, even if I’m not sharing all that I’m doing here. 

In times like these I look to anchoring concepts to help ground me. Currently the psychological idea I’m marinating on for support comes from Uncertainty Management Theory, it’s probably not enough, but it’s helped me in these last few days so I thought I would share it with you all. 

Uncertainty Management

Because understanding ideas and what’s happening in my brain has always anchored me — likely why I became a psychologist — I find myself turning to these concepts once again. Recently, I’ve been reflecting on Uncertainty Management Theory (UMT) and Uncertainty Reduction Theory, which have guided me through past periods of instability. These theories explore how deeply distressing uncertainty can be and how it shapes decision-making and behavior. For instance, in the context of addiction, the "will I/won’t I" ambiguity is often so distressing that giving in to the urge feels easier than sitting with the discomfort of the unknown.

Research shows that uncertainty can be uniquely distressing, sometimes even more so than facing negative outcomes. When confronted with the unknown, our natural response is to employ strategies to reduce uncertainty. This is why many people prefer definitive bad news over prolonged ambiguity. The discomfort of uncertainty can drive us to seek control and stability, which can trigger strong psychological defenses. For instance, when information challenges our worldviews, it often leads to a rebound effect where we cling even more tightly to those beliefs. Uncertainty or the inability to predict or control outcomes can provoke intense distress and defensive mechanisms.

This might explain why, during uncertain times, we often cling to any sense of control, like obsessively checking news updates or polling data, even when it doesn’t truly ease our anxiety. Or why we might break up with a romantic partner we sense distancing from us (better to end it and know than to sit in the ambiguity, uncertain if they will end it with us).

Our psychological defenses can clash with others, making relationships feel fraught with tension, and the powerful feeling of anger may provide a fleeting escape from the powerlessness that uncertainty brings.

While tracking polling data might offer temporary relief and the illusion of control, it rarely satisfies the deeper need for certainty and security. Our minds, when faced with uncertainty, struggle to find stable ground, leading many of us to either numb or to compulsively seek reassurance.

Our minds are designed to be worry machines, chewing on problems that need solving, which has (mostly) served us well for survival. But when faced with worries that have no immediate solution — whether it's waiting for biopsy results or grappling with the uncertainty of what will happen to the world in the wake of an election — the worry machine gets stuck. Everyone responds differently. Some of us numb ourselves or hyperfocus on things that give us a false sense of control — like endlessly refreshing polling data, doom-scrolling on social media, getting into arguments with those who disagree, rearranging our schedules to feel productive, or diving into exhaustive research to anticipate every possible outcome. We’re all just scraping for slivers of certainty.

Caring for Ourselves Amid Uncertainty

Many of you might need a little extra care over the next few days. Here are some practices that help me when uncertainty triggers my obsessive defenses:

1. Name It: Identify what you’re feeling without trying to push it away. Naming an emotion — whether it’s anxiety, fear, sadness, or even terror — can have a calming effect. This isn’t about forcefully naming it to make it go away but about self-attunement and gentle acknowledgment. For example: “I feel fear about the future. I’m uneasy because I don’t know what will happen this week.” When I name a hard emotion like this I often intuitively and gently cup a hand over my heart. I’m naming the pain with compassion. 

2. Self-Soothe: Engage in activities that ground and comfort you. This could be a warm bath, deep breathing exercises, or listening to calming music. This week, for me, self-soothing means selectively getting lost in fantasy books, using my Sensate device, and redirecting my focus toward problems I can solve or finding small ways to contribute positively to the world.

3. Focus on What’s Within Your Control: We feel more grounded when we focus on what we can control. If you can, vote or support others in doing so. If you have the capacity, contribute to campaigns or movements that align with your values. Taking action, no matter how small, can help anchor us in the present.
   
   Action looks different for everyone. Some people are on the front lines, attending protests and amplifying voices in public spaces. Others, like me, contribute more quietly behind the scenes. For neurodivergent folks with justice sensitivity, this can stir up complex emotions. We can feel like there is a right and wrong way to contribute. We easily get stuck into shame if we aren’t contributing in the way we feel we should be able to contribute. It’s important to find ways of contributing that respect your limits and strengths. That’s the sweet spot in the Venn diagram of making a difference while honoring your limits.

4. Mindfully Unhook from Obsessive Cycles: When I find myself compulsively refreshing updates or glued to the news I will often pause and acknowledge what’s happening: “My brain is trying to find certainty in the face of uncertainty.” Simply noticing this can create a small moment of distance, helping you step back and break the cycle and make a choice of agency – be it an intentional choice to distract to regulate and regroup or a choice to focus on an area you have agency to effect change.

So however you’re showing up this week, managing anxiety and uncertainty in this high-stakes moment, I hope you can take care of yourself. Be gentle with yourself and those you love. Know that feeling this anxiety is a reflection of how deeply you care.

I wanted to share a brief note about the boundaries that I try to keep with Neurodivergent Insights. 

As a general practice, I try to avoid speaking directly about politics or current events. Once that threshold is crossed, it can be difficult to decide which events to address and which to leave unsaid. How do I address this year’s presidential election if I haven’t yet spoken about Palestine or other critical issues? And so the rumination loops go. Having a large following can come with the expectation that you’ll comment on every major event and have a take within 24 hours. If you don’t, your silence may be interpreted in various ways. For someone like me, who experiences alexithymia and slower emotional processing, that expectation can be overwhelming. I often feel intense emotions but struggle to articulate them when significant events occur. Because of this, I tend to focus on education and interpersonal reflection in my public content.

My advocacy is quieter, more personal, and often kept separate from Neurodivergent Insights. I don’t broadcast those efforts, partly because I worry it could come across as virtue signaling, or that if I start posting about my contributions, my unconscious motivation might in fact become performative — like when we transitioned from hiking to appreciate the beauty of nature to hiking just for the perfect picture to post on social media. I do have strong feelings and take action, but most of it remains outside of my public work. Maintaining this separation has been vital; without it, I suspect I would have closed Neurodivergent Insights long ago, my nervous system unable to withstand the pressure of trying to be a spokesperson for all the suffering in the world, something that I feel deeply. 

I'm feeling this one particularly deeply. Even so, I’m not going to write about my beliefs in an attempt to persuade you or align your views with mine — partly because Uncertainty Management Theory suggests that when we encounter information contrary to our beliefs, it can make us cling even more tightly to our existing worldview. With that in mind, I’m not convinced that persuasive writing would be a good use of either my time or yours. You likely either agree with me or you don’t, and any attempt at persuasion could in fact be counterproductive.