ADHD Burnout, Diagnosis, and the Invisible Load of Being a Neurodivergent Mom
I’ve burned out a lot.
Not metaphorically. Not figuratively.
It took more than a handful of actual, full-system crashes—bedridden weeks and months, spirals of shame, zero capacity for even the most basic tasks—before I finally admitted to myself that something more was going on than just stress or poor time management.
Only after my ADHD diagnosis did the pieces start to truly fall into place.
Like so many women—especially wives/partners, mothers, and caretakers—I had spent years trying to meet expectations that were never designed with brains like mine in mind.
And it nearly broke me. And I wish I mean figuratively when I say this.
Why So Many Neurodivergent Women Are Diagnosed Later in Life
For decades, ADHD (and autism, too) were studied and diagnosed primarily in white, school-aged boys. The research—and the diagnostic criteria—reflected that (and in some ways still does). Girls and women, who tend to internalize symptoms and develop strong masking behaviours, were simply overlooked (and it continues to happen).
Studies have shown that girls with ADHD are more likely to be diagnosed with anxiety or depression instead, or labeled as “spacey” or “emotional” rather than hyperactive or disruptive. Many of us flew under the radar. We weren’t the “problem kids” in school—or we masked it extremely well. Of course, they may be anxious and depressed, but the complexity of the underlying issues stays hidden and unacknowledged (Madhoo & Quinn, 2014).
So we became high achievers. Perfectionists. People-pleasers. But all that effort was really just one thing: compensation. If you are like me, anxiety was the engine keeping my boat in motion. We were managing life by sheer brute force, with no understanding of how much energy that really took. No tools, no language, and no support.
And for many women, the tipping point comes not in school, but in motherhood.
Motherhood as a Diagnostic Crisis
It’s no coincidence that a wave of late diagnoses happens during the parenting years.
Motherhood is inherently demanding—but for neurodivergent moms, it can be completely overwhelming.
Many of us carry a disproportionate share of the invisible labor that keeps a household running: meals, laundry, appointments, school forms, birthday parties. It’s not just about doing the tasks—it’s about remembering them, planning for them, and anticipating needs before they’re ever spoken. Plan. Prepare. Predict. We often find ourselves managing not only our own schedules, emotions, and sensory input—but also that of everyone else in the home.
In heterosexual partnerships, research has shown that women typically carry the “mental load”—the invisible labor of noticing, planning, and remembering everything—far more than their male partners. Research shows that mothers make nearly twice as many household and child-related decisions as fathers, even when both work full-time.
Now add ADHD or autism to the mix—conditions that directly impair executive functioning—and what do you get?
Burnout. Over and over again.
Executive Dysfunction Isn’t a Moral Failing
Let’s be clear: the traditional markers of being a “good mom” or “good wife” are all based on executive functioning—organization, time management, emotional regulation, planning, impulse control.
These are the very areas where ADHD and autistic brains struggle most.
And yet, when we fall short in these areas, we’re often told it’s a character flaw: laziness, irresponsibility, selfishness.
But it's not a moral failing. It’s neurobiology.
The shame we carry isn't because we’re failing—it’s because we’re trying to meet standards that are misaligned with how our brains work.
The Masking Years—and the Crash That Follows
Before diagnosis, many of us become masters of masking. We create coping systems to get by—sticky notes, alarms, to-do lists we immediately lose. We multitask ourselves into oblivion. We strive for perfection in everything because perfection feels like protection.
But masking is exhausting. It’s a full-time job on top of everything else.
And when motherhood pulls the rug out from under us—less sleep, more responsibility, constant interruptions, relentless sensory input —it strips away the only scaffolding we had.
And we burn out.
Again and again. Until we finally get a diagnosis. A name. An explanation. A lifeline.
To the Moms in the Middle of the Crash
If you're reading this in the middle of one of those crashes, I want to say this to you directly:
You are not a bad mom.
You are not lazy.
You are not selfish, broken, or weak.
You are a human—one with a differently wired brain—trying to navigate an ableist world, raise tiny humans (ones that may even be like you), and keep a household running while doing neurological backflips just to get out the door on time.
You're not angry—you’re overstimulated.
You’re not disorganized—you’re overburdened.
You’re not forgetful—you’re overloaded.
And you are probably carrying more than your fair share.
I see you.
Why ADHD Burnout Isn’t Just Exhaustion
What we call “burnout” in neurodivergent moms is actually chronic, systemic over-functioning beyond neurological capacity. It's not just being tired. It's being fried—mentally, physically, emotionally—without the ability to recover. ADHD burnout differs from regular burnout because it's caused by chronic mental overload, emotional dysregulation, and the constant effort of masking—making it more intense, longer-lasting, and harder to recover from than typical burnout.
In her book "Burnout: The Secret to Unlocking the Stress Cycle", Emily Nagoski, PhD, emphasizes that women in general face burnout due to cultural expectations and internalized pressure. When you layer ADHD or autism on top of that, the burnout doesn't just happen once—it becomes cyclical, chronic, and often mistaken for something else.
We need to stop calling this a personal failing—and start calling it what it really is: a system that doesn’t accommodate different brains. (The system barely works for neurotypical brains! Yeah, I said it. But that’s a whole other blog post.)
The Way Forward (Yes, There Is One)
A late diagnosis is not the end. It’s the beginning.
It’s the start of:
Understanding how your brain actually works
Letting go of shame
Rebuilding your life to support your needs instead of punishing your symptoms
Asking for help—and expecting to receive it
Saying “no” without guilt
Setting boundaries that protect your peace, not punish others
Letting go of “shoulds” that were never meant for people like us
This is the beginning of treating yourself with the same compassion you offer everyone else in your life.
To My Fellow Neurodivergent Moms: You Are Not Alone
We are raising children, managing households, showing up for partners, workplaces, and communities—and we’re doing it with a brain that takes more effort to do the same “basic” tasks.
That is strength.
That is resilience.
That is worth honouring—not hiding.
We’re not broken. We’re different and exhausted. And we deserve understanding, support, and rest just as much as anyone else.
Let’s stop mistaking exhaustion for incompetence—and start seeing it for what it truly is: a sign of strength stretched past its limit.
No one ever won a medal for burning out. I wish someone had told me that sooner.
You’re allowed to do things differently.
You are worthy. You are enough—exactly as you are.
- Nathalie Banfill, ADHD Coach
Forward Focused ADHD Coaching