“Why Am I So Tired?” A Day in the Life of a Neurodivergent Adult in Denver
It’s 7:42 a.m. in Denver. Your alarm has already gone off three times. The light coming through the window tells you it’s definitely time to get up, but your body feels like it’s filled with wet sand. You scroll your phone for “just a minute” and suddenly fifteen minutes have passed and you’re already behind on a day that hasn’t fully started.
Your brain starts to spin through everything you’re supposed to do. You mentally open a dozen tabs at once: email your boss back, pay that bill that’s almost late, answer your friend’s text from three days ago, finally schedule the dentist appointment. For a moment, you stand in the middle of your bedroom, frozen. There are so many things you need to do that your nervous system responds by doing nothing.
By mid-morning, something finally catches your attention—an interesting work project, a hyper-specific research rabbit hole, or a creative idea—and your focus locks on like a laser. Hours pass without you noticing. Lunchtime appears and disappears, and by the time you look up, the rest of your to-do list is untouched. You tell yourself you’ll catch up later, but later often brings its own wave of fatigue.
If this pattern feels uncomfortably familiar, you might be a neurodivergent adult in Denver who has never had space to understand how your brain actually works. Maybe you’ve wondered about ADHD, autism, or AuDHD for years, but you’ve also learned to mask so well that people around you say things like, “You seem fine,” or “You’re just anxious.” Inside, you know you’re constantly running on fumes.
The invisible cost of “just try harder”
Many neurodivergent adults have grown up surrounded by messages that their struggles are simply a matter of willpower. You might have been praised for your intelligence while being scolded for “not living up to your potential.” Teachers may have told you that if you just tried a little harder, stayed organized, or cared more, you’d have no trouble at all.
Over time, it’s common to internalize these messages. When you miss a deadline, forget an appointment, or ghost a group chat because you’re overwhelmed, it’s easy to jump straight to self-blame. Maybe you call yourself lazy, flaky, or irresponsible long before anyone else has the chance to. The truth is that “just try harder” has probably been your default strategy for years, and it’s exhausting.
From the outside, you might appear to be functioning well enough. You may hold a job, pay your bills, and maintain some relationships. People might even describe you as diligent, caring, or high-achieving. But what they don’t see is the mental gymnastics it takes to maintain that image: the late nights playing catch-up, the weekends lost to recovery, the guilt that shows up every time something slips through the cracks.
Living in a busy, high-pressure city like Denver can intensify that sense of never quite keeping up. There are always more social invitations, more outdoor activities, more networking events, and more expectations. When your nervous system is already working overtime to manage sensory input, executive functioning, and social dynamics, it makes sense that you’re tired in a way that sleep alone can’t touch.
What neurodivergent-affirming therapy in Denver can actually offer
If you’ve tried planners, productivity apps, timers, and a million life hacks without feeling lasting relief, it might be time for a different approach. Neurodivergent-affirming therapy is less about forcing your brain to behave like a mythical “normal” brain and more about understanding how your unique wiring operates so you can work with it instead of against it.
In this kind of therapy, we don’t start from the assumption that you’re broken or lazy. Instead, we explore what might really be going on. Are you experiencing ADHD-related executive function challenges that make starting tasks, switching tasks, or keeping track of time incredibly difficult? Are you autistic and navigating sensory overload, social burnout, and the pressure to mask constantly? Are you both, which can come with its own complex overlap?
We also look at how trauma and anxiety intersect with neurodivergence. Many neurodivergent adults have experienced years of criticism, bullying, or subtle shaming. You might have learned to hide your stims, force eye contact, or over-prepare for every interaction. Over time, that kind of chronic stress can leave your body in a near-constant state of alert. No wonder you’re so tired.
In therapy, we might experiment with concrete supports—visual reminders, shared online documents, structured check-ins—while also making room for your emotional reality. That might mean grieving the years you spent feeling “less than,” exploring anger at systems that never accommodated you, or gently unlearning the belief that your worth is tied to your productivity.
A day in your life, seen differently
Imagine going through your day with a lens that is kinder and more accurate than “I’m failing at adulthood.”
Instead of waking up already angry at yourself, you might start to notice patterns: mornings are hard because transitions are hard, not because you’re undisciplined. Hyperfocus isn’t you being irresponsible; it’s your nervous system locking onto something it finds stimulating and refusing to let go. That guilty dread you feel when you look at your inbox might make more sense once you understand how task initiation and decision paralysis work in a neurodivergent brain.
As we name these patterns together, your internal narrative can begin to shift. When you ghost a group chat for a week, you might still feel uncomfortable, but you also might start to think, “This is my nervous system protecting itself from overwhelm,” instead of, “I’m a terrible friend.” From there, we can work on small, sustainable ways to communicate your needs and reconnect when you’re ready.
You don’t have to earn support by hitting rock bottom
One reason many neurodivergent adults delay seeking therapy is the belief that they haven’t suffered “enough” to deserve help. You might compare yourself to people who are visibly in crisis and tell yourself that your struggles don’t count. Or you might minimize your experiences because, on paper, your life looks okay.
You don’t need to wait for everything to fall apart before reaching out. Feeling chronically overwhelmed, exhausted, ashamed, or out of sync with the people around you is enough reason to seek support. Therapy doesn’t have to be reserved for emergencies; it can be a place where you learn to relate to yourself differently, long before burnout forces you to stop.
As a therapist who offers neurodivergent-affirming therapy in Denver and online across Colorado, I’m not interested in turning you into a productivity machine. I’m interested in helping you understand your brain, your body, and your story. Together, we can look at what’s making your days so draining and experiment with new ways of moving through the world that honor who you are, not who you think you’re supposed to be.
If any part of this day-in-the-life felt uncomfortably familiar, you don’t have to untangle it alone. Reaching out for therapy doesn’t mean you’ve failed; it means you’re ready to stop fighting yourself so hard and see what might be possible with support.