Echoes of Divergence: A Neurodivergent’s Field Notes on Systemic Rewiring
For weeks now, I've been unpacking the architecture of burnout, misfit, and masked brilliance that so many neurodivergent minds live within. But before I share the next piece of research or the next blueprint, I needed to pause—and reflect.
Not as a researcher. Not as a consultant. But as someone who has lived this.
The posts you’ve seen—Parts 1 through 4—began as academic inquiry. They morphed into something deeper. A reckoning. Because the truth is, every section I wrote was also a mirror held up to my own experience.
I’ve known what it means to burn out while trying to fit in. I’ve felt the dull ache of constantly performing, adjusting, translating myself into what a boardroom, university, or job description could tolerate. I’ve worked evenings and weekends just to stay “caught up,” only to collapse into silence—shutdown mistaken for flakiness. I’ve worn the mask so well that even I sometimes believed it was me.
And then came the pivot—the 99-Day Rewire. A rebellion against the echo chamber of overachievement and burnout. A shift from fitting in to designing for divergence. Not just for me, but for others who live in this neurodivergent paradox: brilliant and burnt out. Sharp and scattered. Capable, but misaligned.
So what have I learned?
Let’s echo the journey:
Part 1: The Problem Isn’t You—It’s the System’s Design
Neurodivergent people don’t fail to thrive because we’re broken. We burn out because we’re brilliant minds trapped in blunt systems.
Classrooms that punish fidgeting.
Workplaces that reward eye contact but overlook insight.
Institutions that call us disruptive when we’re just different.
The research confirms it: ADHD is strongly linked to burnout, not because of the condition itself, but because of the mismatch between our traits and rigid environments (Oscarsson et al., 2022).
Part 2: Fitting In = Burning Out
I used to think masking was strength. That enduring was noble. That the problem was me. But the emotional exhaustion that comes from hiding your wiring is not resilience—it’s erosion. We camouflage to survive, not to thrive. And when organisations or schools don’t understand this, they mislabel our distress as laziness or lack of discipline. When in fact, we’re often putting in twice the effort just to appear half as scattered.
Part 3: What If We Designed Differently?
This is where the experiment became something else: a vision. What if we stopped forcing square pegs into round roles and started reshaping the roles?
Universal Design for Learning, trauma-informed frameworks, autonomy-based leadership—all of these aren’t just buzzwords. They are evidence-based, human-first approaches. I wrote about companies that restructured teams, schools that redesigned classrooms, and nations that put support into policy.
When we do this, we don’t just include neurodivergent people—we let them shine.
Part 4: Beyond Tokenism, Toward Transformation
I’m tired of awareness days and surface-level statements. Inclusion isn’t a lunch-and-learn or a one-off hire for a diversity report. Real inclusion is structural. It means redesigning feedback systems, embedding peer coaching, and reimagining performance metrics. It means neurodivergent individuals leading the change—not just being subjects of it. Inclusion done well benefits everyone, not just those it aims to support.
And Me? Still Rewiring.
This journey has reminded me that burnout isn’t failure—it’s feedback. A system-level alarm. And designing for divergence means honouring that signal, not silencing it with stimulants or shame.
I’ve found clarity through experimentation—nootropics, new workflows, reflective writing. But also, I’ve found that clarity without recovery is a trap. I no longer chase productivity without pause. I no longer mistake hyperfocus for flow. I am learning—slowly—to let myself ebb.
To those walking this line between brilliance and burnout: you are not the glitch in the system. You are the signal that it needs redesigning.
So here’s to us—the ones still rewiring.
And here’s to the institutions that finally start listening.
So let’s rewire the system.
References
Austin, R. D., & Pisano, G. P. (2017). Neurodiversity as a competitive advantage. Harvard Business Review, 95(3), 96–103.
Deloitte. (2023). Building a neuroinclusive workplace: Report.
Doyle, N. (2020). Neurodiversity at work: a biopsychosocial model and the impact on working adults. British Medical Bulletin, 135(1), 108–125. https://doi.org/10.1093/bmb/ldaa021
Frolli, A., Cerciello, F., Esposito, C., Ricci, M. C., Laccone, R. P., & Bisogni, F. (2023). Universal Design for Learning for children with ADHD. Children (Basel), 10(8), 1350. https://doi.org/10.3390/children10081350
Oscarsson, M., Nelson, M., Rozental, A., Ginsberg, Y., Carlbring, P., & Jönsson, F. (2022). Stress and work-related mental illness among working adults with ADHD: A qualitative study. BMC Psychiatry, 22, 751. https://doi.org/10.1186/s12888-022-04409-w
Prevatt, F., & Yelland, S. (2013). An empirical evaluation of ADHD coaching in college students. Journal of Attention Disorders, 17(3), 215–221. https://doi.org/10.1177/1087054713480036
Sampson, C. (2024, June 24). We must celebrate neurodivergence, not just accept it. HR Magazine.
Substance Abuse and Mental Health Services Administration (SAMHSA). (2014). SAMHSA’s concept of trauma and guidance for a trauma-informed approach.
