ADHD, Autism, and the Hidden Costs of Ignoring Neurodivergent Employees
- Brainz Magazine
- Sep 15
- 7 min read
Updated: Sep 16
Melanie Carr is the founder of Diverse Perspectives and the True Orbit Collective, a cosmic coaching platform supporting ADHD and AuDHD adults. Drawing on accredited training and lived experience, she helps neurodivergent people realign with their rhythm and thrive without masking.
Behind glossy inclusion statements, many neurodivergent employees are still dismissed, silenced, or broken by workplaces that ignore their needs. The cost of being overlooked is not just lost productivity, it is human lives.
Different from the start: Stories we missed
Before anyone was talking about ADHD or autism, we all knew who the "different ones" were. Some of us were the terrified goody-goodies, desperate not to get called out. That was me. Others were the rebels, doing whatever they liked with a twinkle of mischief.
One boy arrived at our school after being expelled from another school. At his funeral years later, his mum told us how he used to empty her linen cupboard, giving towels and sheets to families who needed them more.
He looked out for others, especially another boy in our history class who was obsessed with World War II. Looking back, I see now that he was autistic and there was so much more to him than that. A year after leaving school, he took his own life. We didn't have the language for it at the time. We just carried on, none the wiser, in a country town where difference was something to survive rather than understand.
Inclusion in the information age
Fast forward to today, the so-called information age. Knowledge is at our fingertips, feeds are flooded with posts about inclusion and belonging, and companies polish their websites with glossy statements about diversity. Yet for neurodivergent adults, the reality hasn't shifted much. Behind the policies, many are still invisible, dismissed, or pushed aside. The cost of being ignored is higher than anyone wants to admit.
I call it "DEI washing." It's when companies plaster their websites with words like "inclusive" and "supportive," but the reality for employees is nothing of the sort. Policies exist on paper, but the people they're meant to protect are too scared to use them. Speaking up often means being quietly pushed out, offered a settlement, and handed an NDA to keep quiet.
I've lived this. In one role, I was told I couldn't have a permanent position because I "couldn't handle stress." Not because my work was poor, it wasn't, but because I struggled with sensory overload. Earplugs or headphones would have solved it, but management said no. I cried through the commute more times than I can count. When I asked for support, people smiled awkwardly, muttered "hang in there," and backed away.
This is what DEI washing does, it puts comfort and appearances above care. It's easier to draft a policy than to follow through with uncomfortable, human conversations. Often, it isn't malice, it's a lack of understanding. But the result for employees is the same. You wouldn't take away someone's glasses if they needed them to see. So why deny a neurodivergent person the tools or adjustments they need to thrive?
The cost of being ignored
Being ignored isn't just frustrating. It's dangerous. I know this first-hand. There were mornings when I sat on the train, tears streaming, forcing myself into an office that felt unbearable. Panic attacks hit so hard I couldn't breathe, my hands shaking, my body overheating. I told managers I'd been diagnosed with Generalised Anxiety Disorder and ADHD. I told them about the noise, the overwhelm, the sensory overload. Still, nothing. Just more awkward smiles, more subtle suggestions that maybe I wasn't cut out for the job.
One day, I stood on a platform, staring at the live track. The thought crossed my mind that stepping forward might be the only way to end the pain. I talked myself back that day. But too many don't.
If you're reading this and you've ever been in that dark place, please know you are not weak, and you are not alone. There is support out there, and you deserve it. If you ever feel you're at risk of harming yourself, reach out to a trusted person nearby, or contact your local emergency number or crisis line. [4] If you're not sure who to turn to, tell someone close to you that you're not okay and ask them to help you find support.
And this isn't rare. Research makes that painfully clear.
34.2 percent of autistic adults reported thoughts of taking their own life, and 24.3 percent had attempted it. [1]
Autistic adults face up to an eightfold higher risk of dying by taking their own life. For those who are both autistic and ADHD, the risk rises to thirteen-fold. [2]
These aren't just numbers. They're colleagues, friends, parents, neighbours. People pushed out of workplaces, dismissed by doctors, silenced by policies, or broken by systems that promised inclusion but delivered a polished façade.
This is the true cost of being ignored. I've also heard from people working inside organisations that are supposed to support mental health, yet they dismiss their own employees when they ask for help. That's DEI washing at its worst.
We want to believe that policies and diversity statements mean something. But when promises are broken and people are dismissed or pushed out, it's worse than silence. False hope deepens isolation and makes people even more vulnerable.
Good intentions without follow-through aren't neutral. They're actively harmful.
The power of being seen
Real support looks nothing like a glossy campaign or a carefully worded policy. It looks like care in action, and it can be as simple as listening and adjusting.
One person described the difference like this, "I finally felt completely comfortable and accepted, no judgement, just genuine support." Another said, "What struck me most was being understood, which is incredibly rare with ADHD. It's not often you can experience these conversations in day-to-day life."
That's what being seen feels like. Not perfect. Not polished. Just human connection, understanding, and a willingness to listen. And here's the truth, this isn't just something that benefits neurodivergent people. Everyone benefits when kindness, flexibility, and dignity come first. Managers included.
Neurodivergent adults need environments that validate rather than dismiss, where dignity isn't a buzzword, it's the baseline.
Real support isn't complicated. Sometimes it's a small change in process that costs nothing but makes all the difference. Inclusion doesn't come from a statement. It comes from action.
Start here: Simple changes that help
Manager training on masking, RSD, and disclosure safety.
Clear role expectations and written follow-ups after meetings.
Sensory-friendly seating and lighting, and safe spaces to self-regulate
Agree on noise strategies, eg, earplugs or noise-cancelling headphones.
Flexible rhythm, for example, core hours plus asynchronous focus time blocks.
Why waiting costs lives
This isn't something that can sit quietly on a to-do list. It should have been addressed years ago.
Right now, talented, brilliant, and loyal employees are walking away from their jobs because they've been broken, dismissed, and battered by systems that claim to be inclusive. People who could be thriving contributors are instead sitting at home, wondering how much more rejection they can take.
The stakes couldn't be higher. Every time someone takes their own life on a railway track, the conversation is about train delays, not the human being who was so lost and unsupported they couldn't see another way out. Not the children who will never see their parents again. Not the family losing an income and a future. Just another "inconvenience" to the daily commute.
And as we move into the darker months in the northern hemisphere, seasonal affective disorder will begin to take its toll. The nights get longer, the days shorter, and for those already struggling, the weight grows heavier. This isn't abstract. It's now. It's urgent because it costs lives.
Action over words
Enough with the noise. Enough with polishing surfaces while people slip through the cracks.
To organisations, the solution is simple. Start listening. Start doing. Inclusion isn't about protecting egos or clinging to comfort zones. Ask yourselves honestly, is this a true business necessity, or just an ego-driven refusal to change? One small adjustment, a pair of earplugs, a flexible schedule, a different seating plan, can be the difference between someone burning out and someone thriving at work. Research shows that neurodivergent people often excel in creativity, problem-solving, and innovation. [3] History is full of brilliant neurodivergent minds like Temple Grandin, Greta Thunberg, and Richard Branson, reminders that inclusion unlocks extraordinary talent.
To individuals, your discomfort in a system that was never designed for you isn't a flaw, it's a sign that change is needed. You deserve spaces where you're not invisible, where your voice matters and your humanity is honoured.
If you're neurodivergent, know that your struggles don't diminish your worth. Your perspective, your resilience, and your unique way of seeing the world are needed more than ever.
Inclusion isn't a line on a website. It isn't a campaign hashtag. It's a lifeline. And if we don't start treating it that way, the cost will keep being counted in human lives.
It's time to start building a world where every neurodivergent human belongs.
Read more from Melanie Carr
Melanie Carr, Neurodiversity (ADHD & AuDHD) Coach & Advocate
Melanie Carr is a neurodiversity coach and the founder of Diverse Perspectives and the True Orbit Collective, a membership community for ADHD and AuDHD adults. Her work blends science, lived experience, and creativity to help people realign with their natural rhythms, reframe outdated narratives, and reclaim confidence. With accredited training in ADHD coaching, she brings trauma-aware, practical strategies to clients while building inclusive spaces where masking is left at the door. Passionate about advocacy, Melanie also writes and speaks about dignity, workplace inclusion, and the systemic barriers faced by late-diagnosed adults.
References:
Further reading:
Book: Neurodiversity at Work: Drive Innovation, Performance and Productivity with a Neurodiverse Workforce by Amanda Kirby & Theo Smith (Kogan Page, 2021)
