GHA
Well-Known Member
The Treadmill of Constant Adaptation and Masking
One thing I’ve learned, living alongside a neurodivergent mind for decades, is that adaptation and masking are not just occasional skills. For many, they can become a permanent state.
It’s like being on a treadmill from the moment you start your day until the moment you shut your eyes at night. Every interaction — whether at work, in public, or even at home — involves scanning, filtering, adjusting, and predicting how others will receive what you say or do. There’s no pause button, no stepping off.
For NTs, adaptation is often selective — you do it for a meeting, a formal event, or a challenging conversation. Then you return to your natural rhythm. But for many neurodivergent people, there is no “return.” It’s continuous.
The problem is that even if the pace feels manageable at first, the constant motion drains you. Slowly, the mental reserves shrink. From the outside, you may look fine — still functioning, still meeting demands — but inside, the exhaustion is real and building. Eventually, it catches up, and burnout sets in.
The only sustainable way forward is to create off-ramps during the day and week — spaces where you can be completely unmasked, where there’s no need to adapt for anyone. Without those breaks, even the strongest high-functioning ND will eventually hit the wall.
I’ve seen this happen, and I’ve also seen the difference it makes when someone learns to step off the treadmill, even briefly. Those moments of genuine rest are not a luxury — they are what make long-term success and stability possible.
I’d be interested to hear from others here: do you recognise this “treadmill” feeling? And if so, how do you find your own off-ramps?
One thing I’ve learned, living alongside a neurodivergent mind for decades, is that adaptation and masking are not just occasional skills. For many, they can become a permanent state.
It’s like being on a treadmill from the moment you start your day until the moment you shut your eyes at night. Every interaction — whether at work, in public, or even at home — involves scanning, filtering, adjusting, and predicting how others will receive what you say or do. There’s no pause button, no stepping off.
For NTs, adaptation is often selective — you do it for a meeting, a formal event, or a challenging conversation. Then you return to your natural rhythm. But for many neurodivergent people, there is no “return.” It’s continuous.
The problem is that even if the pace feels manageable at first, the constant motion drains you. Slowly, the mental reserves shrink. From the outside, you may look fine — still functioning, still meeting demands — but inside, the exhaustion is real and building. Eventually, it catches up, and burnout sets in.
The only sustainable way forward is to create off-ramps during the day and week — spaces where you can be completely unmasked, where there’s no need to adapt for anyone. Without those breaks, even the strongest high-functioning ND will eventually hit the wall.
I’ve seen this happen, and I’ve also seen the difference it makes when someone learns to step off the treadmill, even briefly. Those moments of genuine rest are not a luxury — they are what make long-term success and stability possible.
I’d be interested to hear from others here: do you recognise this “treadmill” feeling? And if so, how do you find your own off-ramps?