Autism/ADHD

Friendships can be so challenging for autistics and ADHDers. Here’s why.

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Essy Knopf friendships
Reading time: 2 minutes

Friendships are built on shared interests, trust, and mutual support. But for autistics and ADHDers, the journey to meaningful social connections is often fraught with obstacles. These challenges may include:

1. Different Social Expectations

Many neurotypical (NT) people engage in frequent small talk, spontaneous socializing, and indirect communication. For neurodivergents (NDs), these norms can feel exhausting or even confusing. If you prefer deep, structured conversations or struggle with picking up unspoken social rules, maintaining friendships can become difficult.

2. The ‘Friends for a Reason, Friends for a Season’ Phenomenon

Some friendships last only for a specific phase of life—like school, work, or a shared activity. While NT people may transition between relationships more smoothly, autistics and ADHDers often struggle with these changes, feeling hurt or rejected when they fade away.

3. Burnout from Socializing

Many NDs experience social fatigue. If you need extended time to recharge after interactions, you may unintentionally withdraw. This can lead to feelings of isolation and confusion, both for you and your friends.

4. Object Consistency vs. People Consistency

Some NDs find comfort in objects and hobbies over people. Objects provide stability—books, collections, and passions won’t suddenly change or reject you. This preference can make forming and maintaining friendships with unpredictable humans more challenging.

5. Struggles with Communication and Rejection

Misunderstandings can arise when ND communication styles clash with NT expectations. A direct comment may be misinterpreted as rude, or an info-dump on a passion might overwhelm someone. Over time, repeated social mishaps can lead to a fear of rejection, making it harder to engage in new friendships.

Essy Knopf friendships

Strategies for Navigating Friendships as an ND

If you’ve struggled with friendships, know that you are not alone. Here are some ways to navigate social connections:

1. Seek Like-Minded People

Look for friendships in ND-friendly spaces, whether online communities, shared interest groups, or local meetups that encourage structured social interactions.

2. Accept That Some Friendships Are Temporary

It’s okay if some friendships naturally fade. Instead of seeing it as a personal failure, recognize that relationships ebb and flow for everyone.

3. Set Boundaries for Social Energy

Allow yourself to take breaks from socializing when needed. Communicate your boundaries clearly with friends so they understand when you need space.

4. Find Alternative Forms of Connection

If in-person socializing feels overwhelming, consider text-based friendships, pen pals, or hobby-focused groups where interaction is structured around a shared interest.

5. Work on Self-Compassion

Friendship struggles are not a reflection of your worth. Many NDs feel isolated simply because society isn’t structured to accommodate different social needs. Be kind to yourself and celebrate the connections you do have, no matter how small.

Final Thoughts

Friendships for autistics and ADHDers can be challenging, but understanding these struggles can help foster self-acceptance and guide us toward meaningful connections. By embracing alternative ways of socializing and finding people who truly appreciate us, we can build relationships that feel supportive and authentic.

Autism/ADHD Wellbeing

Why sleep is a challenge for neurodivergents

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Essy Knopf sleep
Reading time: 3 minutes

If you’ve ever found yourself staring at the ceiling long after bedtime, mind racing with thoughts, or tossing and turning from discomfort, you’re not alone. Sleep can be elusive for many neurodivergents (NDs), particularly those with autism, ADHD, or hypermobile spectrum disorders. Despite exhaustion, falling and staying asleep can feel impossible.

The reasons for these struggles vary. A heightened sensory system might make every little sound or flicker of light feel intrusive. A restless mind, common in ADHD, can keep a person awake with an endless stream of thoughts. And for those with hypermobility conditions like Ehlers-Danlos syndrome, physical discomfort can make finding a comfortable sleeping position a nightly challenge.

Why Sleep Matters More Than We Realize

We all know sleep is important, but for NDs, poor sleep can amplify existing challenges. Lack of rest can increase anxiety, make emotional regulation harder, and reduce focus and executive functioning. If you already experience sensory sensitivities, sleep deprivation can heighten them, making the world feel even more overwhelming.

And for those with hypermobility, exhaustion only compounds chronic pain and fatigue, making day-to-day activities feel even more draining. In short, getting enough quality sleep isn’t just about feeling rested—it’s crucial for mental and physical well-being.

Why Standard Sleep Advice Often Falls Short

Many people struggling with sleep are given the same advice: avoid screens before bed, maintain a consistent bedtime, or drink chamomile tea. While these tips may help to some extent, they often don’t address the deeper issues that NDs face.

Instead of relying solely on traditional sleep hygiene practices, it’s important to explore solutions tailored to the specific needs of NDs.

Rather than forcing yourself into a rigid sleep routine that doesn’t align with your brain or body, consider experimenting with approaches that accommodate your unique needs.

Creating a Sensory-Friendly Environment

For those sensitive to stimuli, reducing sensory overload before bed is key. Try using a weighted blanket for deep-pressure comfort, adjusting room temperature to avoid discomfort, or incorporating white noise machines to drown out background distractions. Even small changes—like switching to softer bedding or blackout curtains—can make a big difference.

Easing a Restless Mind

If your brain refuses to slow down at bedtime, structured relaxation techniques might help. Journaling before bed can provide an outlet for racing thoughts, while guided meditation or breathing exercises can shift your focus from mental chatter to physical calm. Reducing stimulating activities, like intense conversations or fast-paced video games, in the hour leading up to bedtime can also help ease the transition to sleep.

Finding the Right Sleep Position

For those with hypermobility, joint pain and discomfort can make it difficult to find a comfortable sleeping position. Experimenting with different mattress types, pillows for joint support, or even compression garments might help reduce nighttime pain and improve sleep quality.

Working with Your Natural Rhythms

NDs often have unique circadian rhythms, which means forcing an early bedtime may not be realistic. Instead of fighting your body’s natural patterns, consider gradually shifting your bedtime in small increments or allowing for flexibility in your sleep schedule when possible.

Essy Knopf improving neurodivergent sleep

Seeking Professional Guidance

If sleep struggles persist despite your best efforts, seeking support from professionals familiar with neurodivergence may be beneficial. A sleep specialist, occupational therapist, or doctor knowledgeable about autism, ADHD, and hypermobility can provide more personalized interventions. In some cases, options like melatonin, cognitive-behavioral therapy for insomnia (CBT-I), or physical therapy for pain management may be helpful.

Sleep Isn’t One-Size-Fits-All

Ultimately, there’s no single magic fix for sleep struggles, but understanding your unique challenges is the first step toward finding solutions that work for you. By making small, tailored adjustments—whether through sensory modifications, relaxation techniques, or flexible sleep schedules—you can begin to improve your sleep quality and, in turn, your overall well-being.

Have you found any strategies that help you sleep better? Share your experiences in the comments!

Autism/ADHD

My body hates me! Living with hypermobile autism and ADHD

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Essy Knopf hypermobile spectrum disorders
Reading time: 3 minutes

Many autistics and ADHDers experience more than just neurodivergence. For some, their bodies seem to betray them—resulting in pain, instability, and exhaustion. One such hidden struggle is hypermobile spectrum disorders (HSD) and Ehlers-Danlos syndrome (EDS), conditions that affect connective tissue and, consequently, almost every system in the body.

For those with hypermobility, something as simple as taking off a shirt can become a painful ordeal. Joints can sublux (partially dislocate) or fully dislocate with minimal effort, leading to intense pain and long recovery periods. Hypermobile individuals may also experience fragile skin, slow wound healing, chronic fatigue, and circulation issues, such as postural orthostatic tachycardia syndrome (POTS).

The Hypermobile Diagnostic Struggle

Despite the serious implications of HSD and EDS, diagnosis is often a long and frustrating journey. Many medical professionals misattribute symptoms to anxiety, fibromyalgia, or simply growing pains, leading to years of confusion and untreated suffering. Since the medical field is still catching up with research on hypermobility, many doctors are unaware of the condition’s full impact, especially in neurodivergents (NDs).

Like autism and ADHD, hypermobility disorders exist on a spectrum. Some people may experience mild joint instability, while others face life-altering pain and frequent dislocations. The lack of general awareness means that many NDs are left undiagnosed, struggling to piece together their symptoms.

The Neurodivergence Connection

Research has begun to uncover an interesting overlap between neurodivergence and hypermobility disorders. Many autistics and ADHDers report hypermobile joints, fragile skin, and chronic pain. Scientists suspect that whatever genetic factors contribute to autism and ADHD may also play a role in connective tissue disorders.

This link adds another layer of difficulty for NDs already navigating a world designed for neurotypicals (NTs). When combined with executive dysfunction, sensory sensitivities, and motor coordination challenges, hypermobility can make daily life feel like an uphill battle.

The Daily Challenges of Hypermobility

People with hypermobility often experience:

  • Frequent joint dislocations and subluxations – Even basic movements can lead to sudden, sharp pain.
  • Chronic fatigue – The body has to work extra hard to stabilize weak joints, leading to exhaustion.
  • Slow wound healing and fragile skin – A simple scrape can take weeks to heal.
  • Digestive issues – Many individuals with HSD/EDS develop irritable bowel syndrome (IBS) and food sensitivities.
  • Dysautonomia and POTS – Blood pooling in the legs causes dizziness and fainting when standing.

Strategies for Managing Hypermobile Autism & ADHD

Although hypermobility presents unique challenges, there are ways to manage symptoms and improve quality of life:

  1. Physical Therapy – Strengthening muscles around weak joints can reduce dislocations and long-term damage.
  2. Joint Supports & Braces – Using compression sleeves, braces, and KT tape can help stabilize joints.
  3. Low-Impact Exercise – Activities like swimming, Pilates, or yoga (with modifications) help maintain strength without excessive strain.
  4. Dietary Adjustments – Following a low-histamine or low-FODMAP diet may help manage digestive issues related to HSD.
  5. Hydration & Salt Intake – Increasing both can help manage POTS symptoms.
  6. Medication & Supplements – Antihistamines, pain management medications, and specific supplements can help alleviate symptoms.
  7. Pacing & Spoon Theory – Learning to conserve energy throughout the day can prevent excessive fatigue and flare-ups.
Essy Knopf hypermobility health challenges

The Importance of Recognition and Advocacy

For NDs with hypermobility, receiving a proper diagnosis can be life-changing. It provides validation and opens the door to appropriate accommodations and treatments. Advocating for oneself in the medical system is essential, but it can also be exhausting. Seeking out knowledgeable specialists, such as a rheumatologist or geneticist, can make all the difference.

There’s still much to learn about the relationship between autism, ADHD, and hypermobility, but awareness is growing. If you suspect you might have HSD or EDS, researching resources like The Ehlers-Danlos Society and connecting with online communities can be incredibly helpful.

Final Thoughts

Living with hypermobile autism and ADHD comes with unique struggles, but knowledge and the right strategies can make a significant impact. If your body feels like it’s working against you, know that there are ways to improve your daily life. Seeking support and making small but meaningful adjustments can lead to greater stability, less pain, and a better overall quality of life.

Do you struggle with connective tissue-like symptoms? Sound off in the comments!

Autism/ADHD

Living in an ableist dystopia: The daily struggles of being neurodivergent

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Essy Knopf ableism
Reading time: 3 minutes

Have you ever wondered why dystopian fiction resonates so deeply? Why so many neurodivergent (ND) folks find themselves drawn to these stories of oppression, survival, and rebellion? Perhaps it’s because, for many of us, dystopia isn’t fiction—it’s a daily reality.

As an autistic and ADHD therapist, I’ve seen firsthand how ableism structures our world in a way that excludes, punishes, and marginalizes NDs. The struggle to exist in a system designed for neurotypicals (NTs) often forces us to mask, suppress, and overcompensate, leading to exhaustion, anxiety, and internalized shame.

But before diving into these parallels, let me share a short fictional excerpt that reflects the lived experiences of many NDs.

A Dystopian Reflection

Imagine a future where a pandemic has erased humanity’s capacity for empathy. Society becomes a place where deception and manipulation are survival skills, and those who remain kind are outcasts. One individual struggles to navigate a world that sees their honesty as foolishness and their empathy as weakness.

At home, their parents criticize them for failing to conform. At school, they’re ostracized. Attempts to challenge injustice result in punishment. Seeking refuge in books and video games, they create their own worlds to escape the cruelty of the one they live in.

Sound familiar?

For many autistics and ADHDers, this isn’t just a story—it’s life. We grow up painfully aware that we are different but unable to explain why. Our deep empathy, sense of justice, and unique way of experiencing the world often make us targets rather than allies. And when we speak up, we’re told we’re too rigid, too emotional, or too much.

Ableism as the Silent Oppressor

Ableism—the belief that NT functioning is superior—permeates every aspect of society. Schools, workplaces, and social spaces are structured to accommodate NT needs while dismissing those of NDs.

Most office spaces are sensory nightmares. Open-plan environments are overwhelming, social interactions are forced, and expectations around communication favor NT norms. Employers often expect ND employees to “just deal with it” rather than making reasonable accommodations.

Schools demand that ADHDer children sit still, remain silent, and suppress their natural learning styles. Autistic students are punished for stimming or struggling with social interactions. Instead of adapting the environment to meet diverse needs, institutions enforce compliance, leading many ND students to associate learning with trauma.

Because NDs behaviors are often viewed as problematic, many of us learn to mask. We camouflage our traits to fit in, suppressing stims, forcing eye contact, and mimicking NT speech patterns. But masking comes at a high cost—leading to burnout, identity erosion, and mental health struggles.

The Double Standard of Accommodation

Consider this: When an ND requests an accommodation—like adjusting the room temperature or asking for a seat change—it’s considered reasonable. But when an ND asks for a quiet workspace, flexible deadlines, or sensory-friendly environments, it’s often met with resistance.

Even something as simple as requesting a classroom change due to a noisy air conditioning unit can feel like an undue burden. This reluctance to provide accommodations reinforces the idea that our needs are “too much.”

Essy Knopf inclusive schools workplaces

Breaking the Silence: The Power of Self-Advocacy Amid Ableism

Many NDs internalize shame, believing they are burdensome for needing accommodations. But advocating for ourselves isn’t just about personal survival—it benefits everyone.

When we challenge ableist structures, we create ripple effects that help others. Speaking up about sensory issues in a classroom, for example, can lead to changes that improve the learning environment for all students, ND or not.

Here’s how we can start dismantling this dystopia:

  • Reject the shame: Recognize that needing accommodations is not a failure, but a right.
  • Speak up: Whether at school, work, or in medical settings, advocate for what you need.
  • Find community: Connect with others who understand your struggles. Shared experiences build resilience.
  • Educate others: The more people understand neurodivergence, the harder it becomes to justify exclusion.

Final Thoughts

In dystopian stories, oppression is often met with rebellion. The rise of the neurodiversity movement is our rebellion—an effort to dismantle ableism and demand a society that values ND people for who we are, rather than who we’re forced to pretend to be.

Little by little, we are chipping away at this dystopia, advocating for change, and refusing to be silent. And one day, when these rigid structures crumble, we will build in their place a world where all minds are valued equally.

What has been your experience navigating an ableist world? Share in the comments!

Autism/ADHD

We need ADHD medication parity NOW

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Essy Knopf ADHD medication
Reading time: 2 minutes

Accessing ADHD medication isn’t just about filling a prescription—it’s a constant battle. Unlike many other mental health challenges where medications are more readily available, ADHD medication is burdened with extra hoops to jump through. These barriers disproportionately affect those who rely on stimulant medications, leaving many without the treatment they need to function.

The process is exhausting: prior authorizations, frequent refill requirements, and the stigma surrounding stimulant medications all contribute to the problem. Add to that the ongoing stimulant shortage, and what should be a simple, routine healthcare matter becomes a frustrating and even disabling ordeal.

ADHD Medication Shortages: A Crisis with No End in Sight

For several years now, the U.S. has been experiencing a shortage of medication like Adderall and Ritalin. The reasons are complex, involving manufacturing limits, increased demand, and regulatory constraints. But the outcome is simple: ADHDers are left scrambling to find their prescribed medication, often having to switch to alternatives that may not work as well or even going without entirely.

Imagine needing medication daily to function, only to be told month after month that your pharmacy is out. For many, this can lead to worsened executive dysfunction and a severe drop in quality of life.

Insurance and Prescription Barriers

Even when ADHD medication is available, insurance restrictions can create additional roadblocks. Many ADHDers must navigate:

  • Prior authorizations, where doctors have to prove the necessity of ADHD medication before insurance covers it.
  • Quantity limits, requiring multiple pharmacy visits for a single prescription.
  • Frequent reassessments, even for adults who have had a stable diagnosis for years.

These barriers assume that ADHD medication is inherently more dangerous or prone to abuse than other mental health treatments, reinforcing stigma and making care unnecessarily difficult.

The Call for ADHD Medication Parity

Other mental health conditions do not face these same restrictions. If someone with anxiety, depression, or bipolar disorder can access their medication without excessive red tape, why should ADHDers be treated differently?

Parity means equal treatment. It means that ADHD medication should be covered and dispensed as easily as any other psychiatric medication. It means that stimulant shortages should be taken seriously as a public health issue, not dismissed as a minor inconvenience.

Essy Knopf ADHD medication access challenges

What Can We Do?

The fight for ADHD medication parity starts with awareness and advocacy. Here’s how we can push for change:

  • Call on policymakers to enforce parity laws and remove unnecessary restrictions on ADHD medication.
  • Raise awareness about the impact of ADHD medication shortages and advocate for improved pharmaceutical regulations.
  • Support ADHD advocacy organizations that work to improve healthcare access for neurodivergents.

Final Thoughs

If you’ve struggled to access ADHD medication, you’re not alone. It’s time for healthcare systems to recognize ADHD as a legitimate medical challenge deserving of equal treatment. Let’s demand ADHD medication parity—because no one should have to fight this hard for basic care.

Autism/ADHD Identity

The cost of conformity: What my sci-fi novel reveals about neurodivergent masking

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Essy Knopf neurodivergent masking
Reading time: 3 minutes

What if survival meant becoming someone else—every thought filtered, every gesture rehearsed, every word chosen to match what others expect of you?

That’s the world Shayan lives in. He’s the protagonist of Nepo, my new YA sci-fi novel. But for many of us—especially those of us who are autistic or ADHD—it’s not fiction. It’s our lived experience.

Nepo is the book I needed as a teen. It’s also the book I needed as an undiagnosed neurodivergent (ND) adult—someone trying desperately to understand why the world felt like it wasn’t made for me.

The Mask We Wear to Survive

Like many NDs, I learned early that being “different” meant being misunderstood. I walked funny. I spoke differently. I was obsessed with bugs, then words, then fiction. Social cues felt like an invisible game with constantly changing rules—and I was always one move behind.

I learned to mask. Masking meant smiling when I was in sensory overload. It meant pretending not to care when I was excluded. It meant hiding the parts of me that didn’t “fit.”

So when I sat down to write Nepo, I wasn’t just creating a sci-fi story—I was creating a mirror. One where a character like Shayan, forced to perform for his survival, could give voice to something deeply personal: the unbearable weight of never being allowed to just be.

From Hollywood Glamor to Dystopian Control

I spent seven years in Los Angeles, working in film and media. I saw the curated personas, the constant pressure to stay “on brand.” Celebrities weren’t just people—they were products.

That’s what inspired Nepo‘s world. Shayan isn’t just any clone—he’s bred to replicate a long-dead Hollywood icon. His every move is scripted. One misstep, and he’s discarded.

Fame in Nepo is a cage. And for NDs, the pressure to perform—to meet neurotypical (NT) standards—is often a cage, too. One lined not with gold, but with shame, anxiety, and burnout.

A Future That Feels Familiar: Enter Neuropunk

I call Nepo “neuropunk.” It’s a subgenre I’m helping shape—one that centers ND experiences in speculative fiction. Think cyberpunk, but instead of focusing on tech, neuropunk focuses on how ND minds resist systems built to control or erase them.

In Nepo, society is split between the privileged “enclavers” and the oppressed “endis”—a mostly neurodivergent underclass whose labor sustains the city but whose identities are erased.

It’s dystopian, yes. But let’s be honest—it’s not far from reality.

Shayan’s Realization: The Egg Cracks

Shayan doesn’t know he’s “endi.” He just knows he feels…wrong. Like something doesn’t add up. That feeling of disconnection? Of not knowing why you’re always the odd one out? That’s familiar to many ND readers.

Eventually, Shayan discovers the truth—he’s not broken. He’s just different. ND.

It’s the “egg crack” moment. The moment so many of us experience when we finally get the language to describe our brain. When the mask starts to slip and we realize—maybe we never needed it in the first place.

That realization is liberating. But it’s also complicated. Because unmasking doesn’t erase years of shame. It doesn’t instantly rebuild your identity. And it doesn’t stop the world from demanding conformity.

Masking Hurts—But So Does Being Real

One of the questions Nepo asks is: What happens when the mask becomes who you are?

That’s what makes masking so insidious. Over time, it erodes our self-concept. We lose track of where the performance ends and where we begin. We internalize the idea that our real selves are unacceptable. That survival means self-erasure.

I’ve seen this pain in my clients. I’ve lived it myself.

And I wanted Nepo to hold space for that grief. To say: You’re not alone. You’re not broken. You’re reacting to a world that hasn’t made space for you.

Storytelling as Resistance

Speculative fiction gives us the distance we need to tell the truth.

Nepo isn’t just about one clone’s rebellion. It’s about systemic oppression, identity, and the radical act of self-acceptance. It’s about choosing authenticity in a world that punishes it.

And at the heart of the story is a plea: Let us be real. Let us be whole. Let us be seen.

Representation That Goes Beyond Stereotypes

I didn’t see myself in books growing up. Autistic characters, if they existed, were usually emotionless geniuses or comic relief. Rarely were they nuanced, messy, real.

I wrote Nepo for the readers like me. For the weird kids. The hyper-focused teens. The stimmers. The ones who got in trouble for being “too much.” The ones who’ve spent years trying to figure out why they feel alien on their own planet.

Shayan isn’t a trope. He’s a full person—conflicted, hopeful, and worthy of belonging. Because all of us are.

A Free Gift (And a Small Request)

If this story resonates with you, I’m offering Nepo as a free digital download for a limited time. All I ask is that you leave a review—let me know what spoke to you, what challenged you, what stayed with you.

I wrote Nepo because I believe stories can heal. And I hope it helps you feel just a little more seen, understood, and unmasked.

Have you ever felt like your life was a performance? Have you had your own “egg crack” moment?

Autism/ADHD Identity

A psychologist compared my autism to a fatal condition

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Essy Knopf ableism psychologist
Reading time: 3 minutes

When I decided to pursue an autism diagnosis, I was hoping for clarity, self-understanding, and maybe even a bit of support. What I wasn’t expecting was to have my neurodivergence compared to a fatal, degenerative disease.

The psychologist I spoke with didn’t offer validation or encouragement. Instead, he presented a hypothetical scenario involving Huntington’s disease, a terminal neurological condition. “Would you even want to know?” he asked, as if discovering I was autistic would be akin to receiving a death sentence.

My stomach sank. I wasn’t calling for a philosophical debate—I was trying to book an appointment for my autism diagnosis.

The Harm of Medical Ableism

Experiences like mine are, unfortunately, not uncommon. Many autistics face skepticism, dismissal, and outright ableism from medical professionals when seeking an autism diagnosis, especially later in life. This can take the form of:

  • Gatekeeping autism diagnoses by making the process unnecessarily difficult or discouraging individuals from seeking answers.
  • Invalidating autistic experiences by questioning the legitimacy of self-identification or framing autism as an inherently negative condition.
  • Perpetuating harmful stereotypes that paint autism as a tragedy rather than a natural variation of neurodivergence.

The psychologist’s comparison to Huntington’s disease wasn’t just offensive—it was wildly inaccurate. Autism is not a degenerative illness. It is not a death sentence. It is a different way of experiencing and interacting with the world. Yet, the way some medical professionals handle autism diagnoses can make it feel like a burden rather than an empowering revelation.

Why an Autism Diagnosis Matters

For many, receiving an autism diagnosis is not about seeking a label—it’s about gaining access to understanding, accommodations, and community. Knowing I was autistic allowed me to:

  • Identify my sensory sensitivities and social communication differences as valid, rather than as personal failings.
  • Advocate for my own needs in work and social settings.
  • Connect with other autistics who shared similar experiences.

Not knowing, on the other hand, often leads to years of struggling with unidentified challenges, self-doubt, and unnecessary hardship. An autism diagnosis can be a transformative moment, allowing individuals to understand their experiences in a new light.

The Importance of Perseverance

After my frustrating encounter, I didn’t give up. I kept calling around until I found a professional who was willing to listen. Eventually, I got my autism diagnosis—and it was life-changing. It validated what I had known deep down but had struggled to articulate.

If you are seeking an autism diagnosis and face similar roadblocks, don’t let one dismissive professional deter you. Your experiences are real, and your struggles deserve recognition. Keep pushing forward. The right support exists—you just have to find it.

Essy Knopf benefits autism diagnosis

The Need for Change

That said, medical professionals must do better. They need to:

  • Approach autism diagnoses with compassion and respect.
  • Recognize that autistics are the best experts on their own experiences.
  • Dispel outdated, harmful misconceptions about autism.

Autistics shouldn’t have to fight for their autism diagnoses, nor should they be made to feel like their existence is a tragedy. Neurodivergence is a part of human diversity, and it’s time the medical field treated it as such.

Final Thoughts

An autism diagnosis is not a label—it is a tool for empowerment. It helps autistic people navigate the world with greater understanding and access to the support they need. By fostering a more inclusive and neuroaffirming approach, medical professionals can ensure that autistics are met with dignity, respect, and the care they deserve.

If you have been met with resistance or ignorance in your pursuit of an autism diagnosis, know that your experience is valid. Your struggles are real, and you are not alone. Keep advocating for yourself, seek out supportive professionals, and remember—your neurodivergence is not a flaw. It is a part of who you are, and you deserve to be seen and heard.

Have you faced challenges in getting an autism diagnosis? Share your story in the comments.

Autism/ADHD Identity Wellbeing

Why I hate going outside as an autistic ADHDer

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Essy Knopf sensory overload
Reading time: 2 minutes

For many autistics and ADHDers, stepping outside isn’t a simple task—it’s an exercise in endurance. From unpredictable noises to overwhelming crowds, the world outside can be exhausting and even painful. Here’s why sensory overwhelm makes going out so difficult, and how it impacts daily life.

The Unseen Battle of Going Outside

For neurotypicals, stepping outside might seem effortless. For me, it’s a calculated risk. The moment I leave my house, I brace myself for a wave of sensory overwhelm—the bright, flickering lights, honking cars, and the endless chatter of people.

It’s not just annoying. It’s exhausting.

Every sound, smell, and visual detail seems to crash into my brain at once, with no filter. My ADHD means I struggle to tune out irrelevant stimuli, and my autism makes everything feel too much, too fast, too loud. The result? I burn out before I even reach my destination.

The Chaos of Public Spaces

Public spaces are an unpredictable sensory minefield. One moment, I’m fine. The next, a sudden noise—an ambulance siren, a child screaming, or harsh sunlight—sends my nervous system into overdrive.

Shops, train stations, and crowded streets all come with their own brand of overstimulation. The sheer number of people moving unpredictably about can be stressinducing.

I’m constantly on edge, trying to manage the discomfort while also masking—pretending I’m “fine” so I don’t stand out. But masking takes energy, and before long, I’m mentally and physically drained.

The Exhaustion of Social Expectations

Going outside also means navigating unspoken social rules. Eye contact, small talk, dodging people on sidewalks—it’s all an exhausting mental game. Unlike neurotypicals, who instinctively follow these social norms, I have to consciously process every interaction.

If I miscalculate—speak too bluntly, react too slowly, or misread a situation—I risk being judged. The stress of trying to “act normal” adds another layer of exhaustion on top of the sensory overwhelm.

Managing neurodivergent sensory needs

Why Staying Inside Feels Safer

At home, I control my environment. I can keep the lighting soft, the noise minimal, and avoid unpredictable social interactions. There’s no pressure to mask, no overwhelming sensory input, and no need to constantly adjust to a world that wasn’t built for me.

But the downside? Isolation. Avoiding the outside world means missing out on experiences, friendships, and opportunities. It’s a constant tug-of-war between self-preservation and the desire to engage with life.

Finding Ways to Cope

While I can’t change the world, I can adapt. Here are a few ways I manage:

  • Noise-canceling headphones – Blocking out overwhelming sounds helps me focus and stay calm.
  • Sunglasses or tinted lenses – Bright lights are a major trigger, so I reduce the strain however I can.
  • Planned outings – Knowing exactly where I’m going, when, and for how long helps me prepare mentally.
  • Sensory-friendly breaks – Finding quiet spaces to recharge mid-trip prevents burnout.

Final Thoughts

Going outside as an autistic/ADHDer isn’t a simple task—it’s a sensory endurance test. From chaotic public spaces to social expectations, every outing requires energy that I don’t always have.

If you relate to this struggle, know you’re not alone. It’s okay to set boundaries, to take breaks, and to advocate for environments that support neurodivergent needs. When feeling dysregulated, consider trying some of these self-care techniques.

Do you experience sensory overwhelm when going outside? How do you cope? Let’s talk in the comments!