A reflection on memes, ADHD, and the soft language of “same lol, but help.”
“If you’ve ever laughed at a meme that was a little too real —
and then sent it to your best friend with a ‘LOL… but also help’ —
this is for you.”
🧃 Humor Was My Emotional Language
For a long time, humor was how I made sense of overwhelm.
Not in a quirky, class-clown kind of way — more like:
“If I don’t laugh, I’ll implode.”
I didn’t always know I was struggling.
But I always knew when I wasn’t alone in it — and weirdly, that recognition usually came through someone else’s meme.
🤡 Humor Is a Mask — But Also a Mirror
For ADHDers and neurodivergent folks, humor isn’t just a personality trait.
It’s emotional regulation, survival strategy, and community-building all rolled into one.
You crack a joke in the middle of a meltdown.
You make a meme about your deadline anxiety instead of replying to emails.
You share a reel captioned “same lol” when what you really mean is “same… help.”
This isn’t “being dramatic.”
It’s how we translate distress into something people can actually hear.
💬 When a Meme Feels Like a Hug (or a Cry)
There’s something weirdly intimate about meme culture.
You see an image that should make you laugh… but instead, it makes your chest tighten.
Because it names something you haven’t been able to name.
Because someone else just put your experience into two sentences and a reaction pic.
A digital stranger says the thing you’ve been too scared to say out loud.
You send it to a friend and type “lol me 😂” —
But what you mean is:
“Please tell me I’m not alone in this.”
🧠 When Platforms Mediate Our Emotions
As media scholar Donya Alinejad explores in her work on emotional intimacy and platforms, social media doesn’t just host our feelings — it shapes them.
Platforms decide which emotions get seen, echoed, and rewarded — and which ones get lost in the scroll.
(Alinejad, 2019 – SAGE Journals)
In this context, when we post or reshare a funny-but-too-real meme, we’re not just being entertaining.
We’re participating in platformed care — inviting recognition and soft connection.
🤳 But What Happens After the LOL?
Sometimes, people just comment “LMAO.”
No one asks if you’re okay.
No one checks in.
It’s easy to forget that humor — especially online — isn’t always read as emotional honesty.
It gets flattened into entertainment.
Your SOS gets mistaken for a punchline.
And that’s the risk of this language we speak.
It’s effective. It’s powerful.
But it’s not always heard the way we need.
💡 Between LOL and SOS Is a Real Feeling
It’s not attention-seeking.
It’s intimacy-seeking.
It’s “Can someone please tell me I’m okay?”
It’s “Please laugh so I feel less alone in this.”
It’s “I’m trying to make this pain bearable. Maybe even funny.”
And when someone responds with more than just a laughing emoji —
When they say “oh my god, SAME” or “hey, do you wanna talk?” —
That’s when humor becomes healing.
That’s when visibility becomes care.
🫂 Final Thought
You’re not weak for needing connection.
You’re not broken for expressing it through humor.
You’re adapting — in the only language you were allowed to speak for so long.
So next time you send that “lol same” meme, maybe also add:
“Do you ever feel like this too?”
You might be surprised by what comes back.
Want more real talk on ADHD, digital feelings, and platformed vulnerability?
Explore the full archive at spicyadhdjourney.com
Let’s turn “same lol” into a real conversation.
📚 Further Reading
- Alinejad, Donya (2022). Careful Co‑presence: The Transnational Mediation of Emotional Intimacy – SAGE Knowledge
- Wetherell, Margaret (2012). Affect and Emotion: A New Social Science Understanding – SAGE Publications
- Ahmed, Sara (2010). The Promise of Happiness – Duke University Press
