Neurodivergent anxiety - trained and then ingrained

The Anxiety set up

If you’re neurodivergent—autistic, ADHD, sensory sensitive, or processing the world in ways that don’t match the norm—and if you are also anxious, I am sad to say I’m not surprised. Anxiety seems to come with the territory for a number of reasons, and I don’t think it’s accidental or purely a matter of wiring.

Let’s talk about the structural forces that encourage anxiety as a strategy in neurodivergent people.

The Myth of the “Normal” Brain

Mainstream society is built for a narrow definition of how people should think, move, communicate, and interact. This so-called "normal" is not neutral—it’s shaped by cultural, colonial, and capitalist values like efficiency, control, politeness, emotional restraint, and constant productivity.

If your brain works differently—if you need time, clarity, flexibility, or space—you're often made to feel like you are the problem. Things are supposed to run smoothly along the norm without interruption. Interruptions become a threat to the system, and the system itself is rarely if ever questioned.

This isn’t just unfair. It’s harmful. People have inherent value and are not casualties or interruptions.

Five Ways Society Manufactures Anxiety in Neurodivergent People

1. Accommodations are judged as unfair or “too much”

When neurodivergent people ask for accommodations—extended time, sensory modifications, written communication, flexible deadlines—it’s common to be met with resistance or resentment. People question the legitimacy of your needs or suggest you’re getting special treatment.

This creates a chronic internal conflict: do I advocate for myself and risk rejection, or do I mask my needs and burn out?

This tension is a manufactured anxiety. It’s not inherent to you—it’s the result of a system that frames support as indulgence rather than equity. In fact, many of the accommodations are matters of design that would have benefits to many people and systems at large. They are sometimes costly, but often not. The fact that a neurodivergent friendly design is not the norm does not mean that such design is inferior or too much. What it does mean, is that people wanting a design that works well for them are burdened with requesting a change in the default order. This positions them as a nuisance.

2. Demands don’t relent

Many neurodivergent people have limited capacity for sustained focus, social interaction, or sensory input. But in a world that prizes or normalizes productivity, overwork, numbing to exhaustion, immediate responsiveness, and constant availability, you’re expected to keep going no matter what. This requires ignoring interoceptive signals that you are too tired, about to get sick, or doing something against your will. Such ongoing ignoring is training to your body - ignore what you feel, and follow what you are pressured to do.

The result? Chronic anxiety rooted in the fear of falling behind or being seen as less than. Not because you’re failing—but because the pace was never made for you.

3. Conventions are rarely explained

So many social rules—eye contact, small talk, tone of voice, meeting etiquette—are implicit. They're rarely taught explicitly, and when you don’t pick them up automatically, you risk being seen as rude, awkward, or off.

Instead of being met with curiosity or explanation, neurodivergent people are often corrected, criticized, or excluded. This is a hard way to learn - it’s not how good educators think about learning. They don’t sit around saying, “let’s throw students into a problem and only give them information when they fail.”

This teaches vigilance. You start monitoring everything you say and do. You wonder what invisible rule you’re breaking next.

4. The “why” behind rules is hidden

Many neurodivergent people are deeply logical and justice-oriented. When a rule makes sense, they can engage with it. But when the rationale is unclear—or worse, arbitrary—it can feel like a trap.

Unfortunately, many environments aren’t intentional about their norms - they often do what was done before without much thought about it or concern. Such environments are likely to punish questioning. You’re told to comply “just because” or risk consequences.

That lack of transparency breeds anxiety. Not because neurodivergent people can’t follow rules—but because they’re constantly navigating double standards and unclear expectations.

5. We are surrounded by dysregulated people

People who can keep up with the pace of society are not often better off for it. They are themselves often angry, overworked, protective, frustrated, and unfulfilled, and they may be mostly good (they think) at hiding it. In my opinion, it takes dysregulation and disconnection from oneself to see others as a burden or a threat when they are not.

Many neurodivergent people have the dilemma of being extremely attuned to emotional tone but often have difficulty guessing the emotion or interpreting the feeling from the other person’s perspective. This leaves the neurodivergent person with an awareness that something is wrong, but no clarity on what, or if it has to do with them, and thus no recourse to remedy the problem. This creates an adverse sensory experience as well as a sense of confusion that is a perfect recipe for anxiety.

From Blaming the Brain to Questioning the System

When we treat anxiety as an individual problem, we run the risk of placing people responsible for factors they have no control over. Of course an individual who is living with their symptoms deserves support managing them. And at the same time, it’s important to acknowledge that systemic problems have systemic solutions.

Your nervous system is doing its best to survive a world not built for you. Asking for what you need is not selfish—it’s an act of courage.

Anxiety’s job is to reduce the potential for harm - that may look like trying to make yourself more palatable or intercept other peoples’ needs before they arise, or predicting what a situation will require from you. It makes sense that you are having this experience. But doing anxiety’s bidding may not be the best use of your energy. It may be more useful to try to heal from harm already done and stick up for yourself where possible, than try to constantly predict and intercept.

Moving Toward Liberation

So what might healing from harm look like?

• Naming the harm so you can stop blaming yourself.

• Seeking community with others who share your neurotype, experience or values.

• Reframing your needs as wisdom, not weakness.

• Creating environments and structures with flexibility, not always bending to the structure.

It starts with seeing that your anxiety make sense, and is not your fault. Although it may be your responsibility to care for yourself through your anxiety, I hope that these ideas can lift the additional burden of shame, as well as the invalidation of needs, that so often gets put on to anxious people. Obviously, there is a systemic job to be done here as well. If you aren’t a big decision maker in that space, at least you can participate in meaningful countercultural ways in your own home or in your own mind.