It Was Just a Car... So Why Does It Feel Like Grief?

Autism, ADHD, and the Emotional Weight of Letting Go

I sold my car.

It was the right decision. It needed more work than made financial sense. Technically, I can live without a car right now.

But emotionally?

I feel gutted. Not just a bit sad heartbroken.

Like something essential is missing.

And if you're autistic, ADHD, or both you might know exactly what I mean.

Because it wasn't just a car. It was my constant. My safe space.

An anchor in a chaotic world.

Why Losing “Just a Thing” Can Hurt So Much

I owned that car for 10 years. It saw me through house changes, children, jobs, breakdowns (mine and its), and everyday moments that didn’t feel like much at the time. But looking back, it carried so much of my life.

It was a space I controlled, where the sounds, smells and routines were familiar. It was something I was proud of. Something that was entirely mine.

And now it’s gone.

Logically, I’m fine. It makes perfect sense to get rid of the car and not spend more money then its worth to keep it on the road.

Emotionally, I’m lost.

And if that feels over the top to you, this blog probably isn’t for you.

But if you’ve ever cried over a broken mug, a lost hoodie, a discontinued playlist, or the sale of your first home... stick with me.

Because this is for us, the neurodivergent souls who bond deeply with the things that made the world feel safer.

Why Autistic and ADHD Brains Form Attachments to Objects

For many neurodivergent people, inanimate objects offer the emotional grounding that human relationships sometimes can’t.

They’re predictable.They don’t demand anything.They stay how we left them.

Here’s why these attachments form:

1. Predictability and Control

When life feels overwhelming or unpredictable, familiar objects give us a sense of control. They follow rules. They don’t judge or surprise us.

2. Sensory Regulation

Whether it's the feel of the seat, the sound of the engine, or the smell of the air freshener—objects can become sensory anchors, calming our nervous system in ways that words or people can’t.

3. Emotional Safety

We often form relationships with objects because they were there for us during hard times. Your car, your favourite coat, that pen you always write with—they held space when no one else did.

4. Monotropism and Deep Focus

Autistic experiences of attention (often described by the theory of monotropism) mean we focus deeply, sometimes singularly. We don’t form lots of shallow connections—we form deep ones. Even with objects.

5. Transitions and Identity

Sometimes, the object holds memories of who we were. Letting it go can feel like letting go of a version of ourselves.

What I Wish More People Knew About “Grieving Things”

This isn’t materialism.This isn’t being overly sensitive.This isn’t failure.

This is emotional regulation through attachment.

And when a regulating object disappears, our nervous system notices.

If You’re Grieving Something “Small”—I See You

Maybe for you it wasn’t a car.

Maybe it was:

• A blanket you had as a child

• The worn jumper you can't throw away

• A playlist that helped you through a breakdown

• A desk you had in your first flat

• The mug you drank from every day of lockdown

The world tells us these things are insignificant.But for us, they were lifelines.

So What Helps?

Here’s what I’m learning (and what I often share with clients):

Let yourself grieve it

Name it for what it is: a loss. You don’t need permission to feel it.

Honour the object

Write a goodbye. Keep a photo. Frame a memory. Ritual helps.

Keep a piece (if possible)

A keyring, a fabric scrap, a screenshot, a note. You can honour it without keeping the clutter.

Reflect on what it gave you

What need did it meet? And is there a new way to meet that need now?

These Are the Moments We Work Through in Coaching

You might be surprised how often these kinds of things come up in sessions:

• Letting go of things that feel like part of you

• Feeling ashamed for being "too attached"

• Struggling to explain why something hit so hard

  
  

These are not trivial challenges.They’re evidence of a brain that feels deeply, remembers richly, and connects fully.

I support neurodivergent adults (especially late-discovered folks like me) to make space for these moments—without shame.

If this post resonated, and you’re looking for support to work through overwhelm, grief, burnout, or boundaries, let’s talk.

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Final Words

Maybe it was just a car.

But for ten years, it held my life. And I’m allowed to miss that.

If you’ve ever been told you’re too sensitive, too emotional, too much... please know:

You’re not.

You’re just wired differently.

And that difference is valid, beautiful, and worthy of support.

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