The ADHD Tax Is Real (and It’s Not Just About Money)
They don’t warn you about the ADHD tax. You won’t find it on your W-2 or in a budgeting app. But if you live with ADHD, you’ve already paid it. Probably this week.
ADHD tax is the cost—financial, emotional, and mental—of forgetting, losing, procrastinating, and reacting instead of planning. It’s the late fees, the replacement fees, the rush shipping, the impulse buys, the subscription you meant to cancel but didn’t. It’s realizing your car registration expired two months ago. It’s paying more because your brain was busy doing a million things… and none of them were that one important thing.
—
💸 Some real-life examples:
– You forgot to return that $90 Amazon item in time. Now it’s yours. Forever.
– You paid for a course or a planner to “get organized,” but never opened it.
– You bought batteries. Then more batteries. You now own 48 AA’s and can’t find any of them.
– You paid $35 for overnight shipping because you forgot your friend’s birthday until yesterday.
– You had to call your insurance company 3 times to fix a mistake you could’ve prevented—but couldn’t face.
Sound familiar?
—
🧠 But it’s not just money—it’s *shame.*
The worst part of ADHD tax isn’t the bill—it’s the **internal dialogue**:
> “Why can’t I get it together?”
> “I’m so careless.”
> “I should’ve remembered.”
> “Everyone else does this stuff just fine.”
We turn simple mistakes into character flaws. But they’re not. They’re symptoms. And punishing yourself doesn’t help you remember next time—it just adds interest to the debt.
—
🛠️ What helps (besides therapy and caffeine):
You can’t erase ADHD tax entirely—but you can **minimize it**:
– Put **reminders** on repeat. Set alarms for everything. Even for checking your alarms.
– Use **autopay** where it makes sense. If you forget to pay things, let robots help.
– Use **a whiteboard or visual system**. Out of sight = out of brain.
– Forgive yourself when it happens. That’s not just fluffy advice—it’s essential for your mental health.
—
💬 Final thought:
If you’ve paid ADHD tax recently, you’re not alone—and you’re not a failure. You’re a human with a differently wired brain in a world built for spreadsheets and calendar notifications. You’re doing your best. That matters.
Now if you’ll excuse me, I have three parking tickets to pay and a half-eaten granola bar in my sock drawer.