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Ever heard of the ADHD tax? Most ADHDers and other neurodivergent folks are well aware of this. I definite it as the extra cost associated with the consequences of being unable to adapt to a society and systems that aren’t designed for people like us.
As someone already struggling financially, I can feel its weight more than ever. This topic is focused on the ADHD tax, in particular. It is not encompassing of other neurodivergent struggles, such as RSD (rejection sensitive dysphoria) and comorbid conditions like Bipolar Disorder, which I might talk about in a separate article.
Key takeaways:
Here’s how it affects me most.
Most executive tasks feel overwhelming to me. Often, I can take on complex tasks, no problem. If there’s an urgent ask at work that requires heavy mental lifting, I can get to it in a snap because having ADHD has equipped me with problem-solving skills appropriate for crisis situations. Something’s on fire online? I’m your girl. Let me tweak that page in fifteen minutes or publish a well-researched full-blown blog article with 3,500 words in an hour at most—SEO-optimized.
But task me with making my own simple breakfast every day, and you’re in for a long-winded whine that would last until dinner. Toothbrush? Daily showers? Cleaning the house at least twice a week? Forget it. You don’t want to hear about it.
“But nobody likes housework,” you might say. That may be true, but imagine the frustration and feelings of defeat for failing to do those things magnified ten times, resulting in shame, guilt, and depression. Because apart from not having enough motivation to do executive tasks, most ADHDers want to do them perfectly when they get to do them.
But the biggest and sharpest pain comes from the moments right before performing those tasks.
The prospect of making a phone call to schedule an appointment, request a medication refill, or even ask a store a question could feel like an enormous burden to me. A task that takes around five minutes to complete requires at least five hours of sitting and dreading the situation before I finally decide to tackle it.
It’s like being in a constant state of the overwhelm™.
Here are other executive tasks that feel overwhelming:
So, what happens?
I pay the ADHD tax.
Not that I am making enough money to afford these things; it’s just that if I don’t make these purchases, things would be more difficult and consequently, more expensive.
Here’s where most neurotypicals weigh in, sometimes with good intentions, but often, from uninformed opinions.
Are you kidding me?! Alright, here’s the deal. ADHDers do like and need routine. In fact, some people with ADHD overcompensate by being overly organized. We keep planners, journals, calendars, and whatever the new to-do app out there is to keep on top of our day-to-day tasks.
What’s happening? Why aren’t those working?
What’s happening, Susan, is that again, those activities lose their novelty over time (often, a short period), and we go back to the issue of executive dysfunction. Tasks that feel repetitive and not mentally stimulating eventually become boring, preventing us from even starting the task.
I am on Concerta – Methylphenidate HCL. A stimulant that increases the neurotransmitters in the prefrontal cortex to help with attention and impulse control.
It’s true that my medication helps me stay focused. But it doesn’t help me become motivated. It all boils down to things being less shiny, not enough to capture my full attention and warrant an action. Some people say that ADHD is a poor term for the disability. It should be called motivation deficit disorder, among other things.
In any case, yes, medication helps, but only to a degree.
Read the above.
I’ll say this. Start by accepting the neurodivergence. This applies to both the ND and the NT people around the ND.
Once it’s established that traditional methods to get organized, focused, and motivated don’t work for someone with ADHD, then you can start thinking of ways around it.
But because I have ADHD and this has already gone on short of 1,000 words, I am drained, and will come back to share more about what helps later.

Here is a short story in Tagalog that I am distributing for free!
Ang kuwentong ito ay kathang-isip, ngunit may mga eksenang halaw sa tunay na buhay. Walang sinasadyang pagkakahawig ang karakter ni “Bonggay” sa sinumang tao, buhay man o patay.

I like drawings with imperfect lines,
paint that goes just a little over the edges.
I find chips in decorative craft
adorable.
Unbalanced stitches, shaky layers, and disorganized canvases.
Human hands are wonderful;
some are masterful
and most are unsteady—
nonetheless in constant pursuit
of beauty.
Some strokes of genius happen
by mistake
and discoveries abound
in misfortune.
Feats such that unfeeling
virtual hands
can never hope to achieve.
There’s no inspiration in programmed manipulations.
No creativity
in unthinking sets of flashing cards
that only show what one wants to see.
No toil, no heart, no virtue;
they are dead,
moved only by this virus
rapidly infecting our perceptions.
They lie.
They take the names of objects
of ridiculous combinations
to convince themselves that they are real,
and trick us into believing
we are weak
for not going with the times.
They force our hands into the mud
in which they roll
with their stolen treasures.
We are gaslit into thinking
our works are no better
for the very reason they are:
our toil,
our hearts,
our virtue.
Natalia Go
7 October 2025
I want to touch a piece of machinery and feel hopeful for the future.
I want to wake up to new discoveries and not be threatened by the ill intentions of the ones who made them.
I want to be excited about the progress every new invention could make and not worry about it killing jobs, industries, and people.
I want to participate in change without having to worry about my demise.
Or the decline of my intellect and creativity.
Every day, I wake up to this nightmare of a planet. Most of the world are suffering. The rest are concerned about overfilling their coffers. And I am tied with a chain somewhere in between to tend to my needs.
How did we get here?
I weep for the dreams of my heroes who saw the world for what it could have become today.
I grieve the work of the writers who imagined so much more for us and whose ideas we so blatantly ignored. Nay, opposed. Defied. Trashed.
Where are we going?
I long for the days when we saw promise in a new device.
We were joyful. We were hopeful. We were inspired.
We weren’t told to shut up and not question anything new. We weren’t denied the rights to make decisions about what we accepted and rejected.
We were included.
We evolved.
8 August 2025
Natalia Go
When time it comes for us
to read our promises
in front of witnesses,
when we profess our love
with our monograms
to the tune of our march,
the lights on our faces,
though there’d be no clergy,
no fabric or metal bonds,
your hand in mine
will be the sacred cord,
whispering gratitudes to the stars
and the goddesses of old.
A rain of silver and white
on our heads
wrapped in the warmth
and vibrance
of every touch afore, hereon.
To behold the fondest to my heart
each step to the hours.
To be near, around, beside, and behind,
wherever you need me
at any given moment you allow.
I cast my wishes to the timekeepers
who favored our existence
in the same timelines,
every one of which, I am bound
to find you.
13 July 2025

I hear the breaking of a chain
not long from the hour
when gold scratches on feather
and the hand lays its claim on the nib
once more.
Blood trickles into the shape of a flag,
forward and onward to tomorrow.
Woman against machine.
Spirit against rot.
Water rises to a boil atop a cliff
and drips into a shamble of metals
long deformed.
Their soulless voices lost among the clouds—
artless copies fading into the chasm.
Their song the screeching of rusted pipes,
far less artful than parrots’.
And melt
the long arms of the thieves
whose spoils belonged to the gardeners,
too busy tending their creations
for so much as a grumble
even as they are robbed.
Yet the hour comes.
Past a day, a decade, a moment…
it comes
anon.
I’m changing my arts and crafts business name from Made by Natalia to Shiny Things. Please check it out, have a look around, and if you like something, go ahead and order!

The walls gave in that night.
The last paper clips holding them together
fell to pieces
in the ocean where the water
didn’t stay wet after hitting the ground.
Salt turned into sand and metal into dust,
crackling in the heat of the seabed.
There was a roar coming from the waves
up ahead,
but they didn’t land…
wouldn’t land
as they rolled through the empty sea
towards the dam.
Still it poured.
Every drop burnt the flesh at the touch.
She held my hand as we stood
in the acid rain,
tasting the sting in her tongue
as the poison cut through my throat.
She didn’t have to bear it.
I wanted her to seek shelter from my storm.
It came for me.
But she stayed.
There was a beacon by the shore.
Its light was faint.
The light wasn’t light but a reflection
of the worlds I’d conceived in my eyes.
It was there only as long as I was,
and I was fading in the dark.
Those worlds couldn’t live
without the dreams that made them.
And they took them away.
I wanted to run.
But she held me in the middle of the field
until it was safe to walk again,
knowing my entire universe was a war zone
where the gods killed for sport.
It was hours
before I could breathe through my nose again.
Neither of us said the words
but we knew.
It was in the moment
when nothing mattered anymore
and everything was falling apart
that we heard each other’s voices
sans the sounds.
And it would be in the moments—
loud, quiet, and in between,
that we must listen.
Walls in Paper Clips
26 March 2025
I didn’t know there were cases of people creating allegedly fake PWD IDs in the Philippines to get discounts not meant for them. Maybe I’m naive, but I can’t imagine massive numbers of people doing this with the intent to deceive and take advantage of others. Why would anyone fake a disability just to get a few pesos knocked off their expenses? I rather believe that majority of Filipinos are better than this.
First, is there data to back this up? Where is the evidence that many PWD IDs used in restaurants and other establishments are fake? How many are fake IDs, and what is the percentage of these compared to the legitimate ones?
Now, I understand this is a valid concern, especially for small businesses, because they shoulder the 20% discount and not the government. My issue is that there didn’t need to be a question of whether or not people with disabilities deserve this discount.
As a neurodivergent individual diagnosed with several invisible disabilities, I find it outrageous that people question the validity of my being disabled. Some of these disabilities include:
I take medications to manage these conditions and function as an adult in this highly capitalistic and ableist society. I need these meds to be able to work, do the seemingly simplest of daily tasks, and not be stuck in paralyzing states of depression, mania, and fear, among others. I spend around 20,000 pesos for these meds each month, including meds for my physical ailments, like diabetes, hypertension, endometriosis, etc., etc. Add to that the cost of medical consultations, therapy sessions, and tests, and even my above-average income is barely enough.
Do we deserve discounts on medicines? I think most people would agree. How about discounts on food, groceries (these are limited to commodities like rice, bread, etc.), and some listed as eligible in the lifestyle category? I understand this is where people start complaining.
I also understand that the restaurants and other establishments shoulder this legally mandated 20% discount and not the government. I think the conversation then that needs to happen is why isn’t this being taken from our taxes? Then again, people would still complain about their taxes benefitting people with disabilities—because, as is apparent in these recent outbursts from restaurant owners, people generally feel that PWDs don’t deserve it.
So do we?
Most of the world operates in a system that punishes us for being disabled. Schools and employment often don’t consider that we need to exert significantly more effort to function or even just stay alive. I think it’s only fair that we get some accommodations to give us a chance to live fairly normal lives.
Ultimately, we need an overhaul of the healthcare system, which is a bigger conversation.
I never quite forgot this statement I heard from one disabled person: “The problem is not that there are people in wheelchairs. The problem is that buildings don’t have ramps.”
Note: I lived in the US for a few years, and they didn’t have such a law for PWDs. It’s good that we have it here. And the US is not exactly a great example to follow in terms of healthcare.
Including this photo as a preview of this illustrated book I’m working on.
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