Neurodivergence: Playing Life on Hard Mode With No Map or Quest Log
If you’ve ever felt like everyone else was handed the rulebook to life and you got a blank notebook instead, hello! Welcome to the club!
Being neurodivergent is kind of like playing an open-world RPG where everyone else seems to know where to go, how to fast-travel, and what stats to level up. Meanwhile, you’re wandering around trying to figure out how to open your inventory while side quests pile up and your stamina bar is constantly on empty. And no one gave you a map.
For folks with ADHD, autism, OCD, learning disabilities, or any combo of the above, life just... functions differently. Not worse. Just different. But we’re expected to play by the same rules as everyone else, and when we struggle, people assume we’re not trying hard enough.
But in reality, we’re trying really fucking hard.
The Default Settings Aren’t Built for Us
Let’s start there. So much of life is designed for neurotypical brains. School, work, social expectations, even how we’re supposed to rest and play, they all assume a brain that works a certain way.
If you have executive dysfunction, routines might feel impossible. If your sensory system is on high alert, just walking into a crowded grocery store might drain your entire battery. If your attention system isn’t linear, even picking a task to start can feel like a Herculean effort.
The cost to actually do the thing is much higher. Neurotypical folks might be cruising through a tutorial level, and we’re stuck in a boss fight with a wooden sword and half our armor missing.
Some Examples, Because Let’s Be Real
"Just clean your room" = Oh, you mean break down a massive multi-step process into ten smaller tasks while dealing with decision fatigue, object permanence issues, and the crushing anxiety of not knowing where to start?
"Just text them back" = Sure. If I could remember the text existed. If my brain didn’t get flooded with shame over how long I’ve taken to reply. If executive function didn’t short-circuit every time I try to type out a normal human sentence.
"Just eat something" = Cool. I’ll figure out what I’m hungry for, see if I have the ingredients, mentally prep myself to cook (and clean), and override the sensory issues that make 90% of textures feel like chewing a wet sock.
The Invisible Workload
One of the hardest parts about being neurodivergent is how much invisible labor you’re doing all the time. You’re tracking emotional states, suppressing stims, translating your natural communication style into something others won’t misinterpret, masking your needs, trying not to take up too much space.
It’s exhausting. And because people don’t see it, they assume it’s not happening. But you know better. Just existing in a world not built for you is already a full-time job.
You’re Not Broken. The System Is.
Let’s make one thing very clear: struggling in a system that wasn’t designed for your brain isn’t a moral failing. You’re not broken. You’re not lazy. You’re not dramatic.
You’re surviving in a game that wasn’t calibrated for your character build. Of course it’s going to be harder. Of course you’re going to feel like you’re falling behind. But that doesn’t mean you’re losing. It means the system needs to change.
So What Can You Do?
Honestly? There’s no perfect strategy guide. But here are a few things that help:
Adapt the controls: Build systems that work for your brain. Color-coded calendars, timers, visual reminders, body doubling, breaking down tasks… whatever gets you through the day.
Use your potions: Rest is valid. Breaks are necessary. You don’t have to earn recovery time.
Get allies: Find people who get it. Online communities, affirming therapists, friends who speak your language. You’re not supposed to do this alone.
Stop comparing playthroughs: Someone else’s journey isn’t yours. Their timeline doesn’t mean anything about your progress.
Final Thoughts
Neurodivergence isn’t a glitch. It’s a different operating system. And yeah, that means we run into bugs other people don’t have to deal with. But it also means we bring creativity, insight, empathy, and perspective that others might miss.
You are not falling behind. You are not doing it wrong. You’re doing the best you can with the tools you have in a world that wasn’t built for your brain. And that’s badass.
So if it feels like you’re playing life on hard mode with no map or quest log, just know this: you’re not alone. And you’re doing better than you think.
