🧠 Blog Post #3: “Fatherhood & Neurodivergence: When the Struggle Gets Real”

Before becoming a dad, I thought I knew exhaustion. I thought I understood mental overload. Turns out, I didn’t.

Fatherhood changed everything.

When my first child was born, it was beautiful, overwhelming, and… brutally clarifying. Suddenly, all the coping mechanisms I had — the routines, the cooldown windows, the alone time — disappeared. My brain, already running hot from undiagnosed ADHD and autism, had nowhere to reboot.

And then earlier this year, our second child arrived.

That joy? It came mixed with emotional freefall. Sleep vanished. Meltdowns increased. And not just theirs — mine, too, though silent, internal, masked. I felt like I was underwater, constantly trying to surface for air that never quite came.

There’s a term I’ve since discovered: autistic parental burnout.

It’s real. It’s ugly. And it’s terrifying when it sneaks up on you while you’re trying to keep everything together for the people you love the most.

What does it look like for me?

• Waking up exhausted even after sleep
• Forgetting simple things over and over again
• Feeling completely numb when I should feel joy
• Crippling guilt for not being “present enough”
• The endless loop of “I’m a bad father” on repeat

But here’s what I’m learning — slowly, and imperfectly:

Being neurodivergent doesn’t make me a bad parent.

It makes me a different parent. One who feels deeply. One who tries hard. One who is now aware of his limits, his wiring, and his needs.

Some days are still impossibly hard.

But I’m working on replacing shame with self-understanding.

And even when I’m overwhelmed, I still show up.

That counts for something.

That counts for a lot.