“My Brain’s in a Blender” - ADHD, Autism & the Fog That Follows

Ever sat down to write an email or finish a simple task, and your brain just... disappears? Like the words are floating around in your head but refuse to land? Yeah. That’s brain fog. And for neurodivergent folks like me and my partner, it’s not just an occasional cloudy day—it can be a weather system that overstays its welcome.

Let’s talk about what brain fog actually is, why it shows up more often for those of us with ADHD, Autism, ASD, anxiety, and other neurodivergent traits, and how we can gently work with it instead of fighting against it.

☁️ What Even Is Brain Fog?

“Brain fog” isn’t a medical diagnosis, but it’s very real. It mostly feels like:

·        Forgetting mid-sentence what you were saying

·        Re-reading the same sentence five times and still not absorbing it

·        Mentally checking out during conversations

·        Taking 45 minutes to do a 5-minute task

·        Feeling drained before the day even starts

It’s not laziness. It’s not lack of motivation. It’s your brain literally short-circuiting due to overload, fatigue, or disconnection.

🧩 Why Brain Fog Hits Neurodivergent Brains Harder

From what I’ve learned (and lived), neurodivergent brains—like those with ADHD, autism, or sensory processing struggles—already operate with a unique wiring. That means we often live with higher cognitive load, more distractions, and heightened sensitivity to the world around us.

Here’s how that connects to brain fog:

1. ADHD and Brain Fog

·        Our brains are constantly pinging between ideas, distractions, and emotions.

·        Add in executive dysfunction, and suddenly even brushing your teeth can feel like decoding quantum physics.

·        Brain fog feels like ADHD’s more sluggish cousin—where the thoughts aren’t racing, they’re just… missing.

2. Autism and Brain Fog

·        Autistic burnout is a big one. After masking, overstimulation, or social exhaustion, I’ve found myself totally mentally shut down.

·        Sensory overload can completely derail my thought process for the rest of the day.

·        Brain fog here isn’t “just tired,” it’s “my brain is buffering like an old internet browser.”

3. Anxiety, Depression & Emotional Overload

·        Constant stress eats up cognitive resources.

·        When I’m anxious, my thoughts spiral, and when I’m depressed, they stall. Either way—focus? gone.

🧠 Brain Fog Feels Personal—Because It Is

Here’s the thing no one told me: brain fog isn’t just mental tiredness—it’s emotional, too. It brings on guilt. Shame. Frustration. I’ve beat myself up for being “unproductive” or “slow,” especially in workspaces built for neurotypical productivity.

But brain fog isn’t a failure. It’s feedback. Took me years to really get to this recognition point, and I think I need to share with you all.

🔧 What’s Helped Me Manage Neurodivergent Brain Fog

This is the part where I wish I could give you a magic fix. But it’s more like a menu of gentle nudges that help my brain reset:

1. Sensory grounding tools

·        I keep different pieces of my sensory worry stones on my desk and in my pocket/bag.  On foggy days, the tactile texture helps bring my focus back to the moment.

2. Gentle routines, not rigid schedules

·        Rigid to-do lists make me freeze. I use soft structure instead—like “brain-heavy tasks in the morning, movement in the afternoon.”

3. Sleep and hydration

·        Basic, I know. But brain fog loves to camp out in dehydrated, under-rested brains.

4. Lowering the sensory noise

·        If I’ve been out in a loud space, I grab my noise-reducing earplugs to decompress. It helps prevent the crash that usually leads to fog.

5. Naming it without shame

·        When I say “I’m in a fog today,” it instantly feels lighter. I’m not broken—I’m in a process.

✨ Final thoughts:

If you’re neurodivergent and battling occasional brain fog—know that you're not alone, and you're not “lazy”. Your brain is doing its best to navigate a world that wasn't designed for its wiring.

Let the fog be a signal, not a sentence. Slow down. Use your tools. Ask for softness. Some days, your brain’s only job is to exist—and that’s enough.