Why AI Anxiety Feels Like ADHD Overwhelm (And What That Teaches Us)

My neurodivergent brain wants to write about EVERYTHING at once,
then immediately gets paralyzed by it all and craps out. Sound familiar?


Here's what I'm learning about AI anxiety, ADHD overwhelm, and why people like us might be the early warning system the world needs.

Right now I'm staring at 46 open browser tabs on my laptop, grouped in different semi-random windows. There are about 46 AI apps that I "need to learn" and evidently "cannot live without," according to various YouTube AI influencers. Every day brings a new AI tool launch. Instagram ads scream that pre-teens are becoming millionaires overnight because they know how to use AI to its full potential—do YOU?

Meanwhile, I've added "neuroscience" and "AI experts" channels to my feed, where I'm simultaneously reading that AI products significantly reduce our organic cognitive brain power AND that those who don't embrace AI will be replaced by humans who do.

The subject of AI might be one of the most hypocritical debates of our lifetime.

The Familiar Overwhelm

This creates a real yo-yo effect. I'm constantly bouncing between opposite states: optimistic enthusiasm at all the possibilities I could be learning, and that stomach-churning nervousness I used to get before critical tests. Every time I think about my work and AI learning, all I feel is "I'm so behind!" Then I fall into a depressing slump for a few minutes.

How can I ever learn this much? Not even learn—but focus, with my brain going 50 different directions at once?

In my normal day, I bounce between hardcore cognitive work where I rely on Claude to help with complex DOD domain knowledge, online courses on "UX Metrics" and "AI in Product Design," articles screaming "AI" in their titles, my Instagram feed at night, and two actual books I bought so I can highlight throughout: "Agentic AI Systems" and "UX for AI."

My brain works this way because I get too bored otherwise. I have to take breaks and mix in physical tasks (like doing dishes while listening to meetings) because it helps me focus. I struggle with video calls—getting distracted by everyone else's cameras and losing track of what the presenter is saying.

Add summer mom duties—tennis camps, golf tournaments, playdates, fixing breakfast and lunch, keeping my 7-year-old on task with summer assignments, meeting everyone at the pool after work—and the context-switching becomes insane.

It's exhausting. And it feels exactly like AI overwhelm.

The Pattern Recognition Breakthrough

Here's what I'm realizing: this isn't just random anxiety. My ADHD brain is simultaneously seeing complexities and connections that ripple out from "learn a new app" into fundamental changes in how we work, think, allocate resources, and educate our children for the future. I see all of these things at once.

I'm constantly looking for patterns in systems, connections between seemingly disparate ideas, threads that show how AI is now unequivocally part of our lives. And here's the insight that's been brewing: our ADHD brains might be advanced early warning systems for AI.

We're feeling extreme anxiety not because we're afraid of AI, but because we can see its impact rippling through systematic outcomes before they become apparent patterns. We're the canaries in the coal mine, identifying risks and potential inequalities before they're even visible to others.

What Our Overwhelm Actually Detects

When I interact with AI tools, I'm intuitively cataloguing all the edge cases and exceptions that AI can't compute yet. I identify the disconnect between AI marketing hype and what it can actually do. My distrust isn't fear—it's gut-level pattern recognition detecting where AI falls short: hallucinations, bias, context loss.

We're processing multiple data streams simultaneously:

  • The tool explosion (every app that promises to revolutionize our workflow)

  • Workplace disruption (fundamental changes in how work gets done)

  • Societal implications (what this means for creativity, critical thinking, human connection)

  • Personal overwhelm (how to stay relevant without losing ourselves)

Our brains are trying to make sense of all these inputs at once, which creates that familiar ADHD overwhelm feeling—but magnified by the stakes and speed of AI development.

The Reframe: Anxiety as Intelligence

Full disclosure: I asked Claude to help me process these insights. And here's what's incredible—for the first time in my life, I have an "assistant" to help break down my thought patterns and present them back to me so I can make sense of what they are. That's not just powerful, it's transformative.

But I'm also aware that Claude might be creating connections that aren't really there, making me feel good in a weird way through its own bias. Very possibly. That awareness itself is the pattern recognition at work.

The reframe I'm embracing: AI anxiety isn't irrational fear—it's sophisticated pattern recognition working overtime.

People with neurodivergent brains are uniquely positioned to see the full complexity of AI integration because we're already experts at processing overwhelming, interconnected information streams. We've been doing it our whole lives.

Why We Need to Be at the Forefront

People like us absolutely need to be at the forefront of this AI revolution. We're constantly making connections to understand the deeper meanings of how AI is fundamentally changing all aspects of our lives.

Is it exciting and full of potential? Absolutely. But there's too much hype, and we have a responsibility to work with AI while fully understanding its limitations and appropriate applications.

The largest question I've been grappling with lately: working with AI allows us to more fully grasp what makes us human and what's so special about our brains. Our overwhelm, our pattern recognition, our ability to see connections across complex systems—these aren't bugs to be fixed by AI. They're features that make us essential partners in designing human-centered AI solutions.

Maybe our anxiety isn't telling us to run from AI—maybe it's telling us to run toward it, with our eyes wide open, ready to catch the things others might miss.

What patterns are you seeing in AI development that others might be missing? I'd love to hear how your brain processes the AI explosion.

Kathryn Neale