Why Does Going on Holiday Feel So Fucking Hard When You’re Neurodivergent?
- Abbey Brocklehurst

- 6 days ago
- 11 min read
Holidays are supposed to be relaxing, aren’t they? You book time away because you need a break. You picture yourself lying by the pool, reading a book, no cooking or cleaning, all-inclusive food and drinks and finally switching your brain off. Everyone tells you how lucky you are, which I know being able to afford holidays these days is a privilege, but it creates this pressure to enjoy every single second because you have paid money to be there. But as an AuDHDer, going on holiday for me always feels like I need another holiday to recover from it. That doesn't mean I am ungrateful. It doesn't mean I do not enjoy travelling, making memories or spending time with my family. I can feel incredibly lucky to be away and still find parts of it genuinely difficult; both things can be true at the same time.
Although a holiday removes you from work and everyday responsibilities, it also removes you from your routines, familiar environment, safe foods, sensory comforts and many of the systems you use to keep yourself regulated. Add airports, queues, heat, noise, unfamiliar food, disrupted sleep and constant togetherness (if you're a mum like me, kids constantly killing each other), and suddenly the thing that is meant to help you relax is demanding a huge amount from your nervous system. This is the reality of being neurodivergent on holiday that we do not always see on social media.
When I look back at holiday photographs, I see genuine happiness; I see beautiful places, funny moments and memories I am grateful to have made. Those pictures are not fake, but they do not show everything. They do not show the airport anxiety, the discomfort of being too hot, the food I could not manage, the moments when the noise became too much, or the guilt I felt for needing space, or how much planning and regulation may have gone into being able to enjoy the moment captured on camera. You are still neurodivergent when you are abroad, so I thought I would share my own struggles being AuDHD abroad and some things I find that help.

The holiday starts long before you arrive
For many neurodivergent people, the stress begins before the suitcase is even packed (which on its own is a challenge with ADHD). There is so much invisible planning involved in going abroad: passports, boarding passes, transfers, insurance, medication, clothes, chargers, toiletries and trying to work out what everyone might need for every possible situation. For whatever reason, I pack enough clothes for a month and enough underwear as if I plan on shitting myself every day.
ADHD can make organising all of that feel completely overwhelming, and autism can bring a strong need to know exactly what is happening, when it is happening and what to expect when you get there, which can create an exhausting push and pull. Part of my brain wants everything planned properly so I feel safe; another part struggles to begin, estimate time, make decisions and remember what I have already packed. I can make lists and still worry that I have forgotten something; I can check the passports repeatedly and still get a sudden flash of panic that they are not in the bag. I can know what time we need to leave yet feel unable to settle beforehand because my whole day has become “waiting to go to the airport.” This is not simply being disorganised or dramatic.
Executive functioning, time perception, working memory and difficulty tolerating uncertainty can all be involved; what looks like a straightforward travel day from the outside may already have required days of mental preparation.
What might help
Start preparing earlier than you think you “should” need to and break everything down into smaller stages. A shared packing list, a travel folder for documents, visual reminders and keeping essential items in the same bag can reduce the amount your brain has to hold. It can also help to plan the journey in detail, including what time you are leaving, where you are parking, how you are getting to the terminal and what will happen when you arrive, so there are fewer unknowns competing for your attention.
Airports! Why the fuck are they an obstacle course
Airports ask a lot of any brain, but for a neurodivergent brain, they can feel like one long series of demands with very little opportunity to recover. There are bright lights, crowds, announcements, get there at a specific time, remember passports, check boarding pass a million times, find the right desk, has my luggage gone over? Shit, why have I packed for a month when I'm going for a week? Queue for FOREVER, constant changes of direction, security (which speaks for itself), where's the gate? Has the gate changed? Why is everyone walking so slowly? You have to keep track of your belongings while listening for information, watching screens and making sure you are in the right place at the right time. You may be rushed through one part and then expected to sit and wait what feels like forever in another.
My ADHD brain can be pulled towards every sound, screen and movement around me, wanting to spend impulsively in duty-free for shite I don't need, while my autistic brain wants clear information and certainty. If the gate is not announced, the flight is delayed, or the plan changes, I can feel the anxiety building because I cannot properly prepare for what comes next. By the time I reach the plane, ive already used a massive amount of energy just appearing calm and keeping everything moving. Some people don't realise the internal checklist, the sensory overload or the effort it is taking not to become overwhelmed when it comes to airports.
What might help
Check what assistance is available through your airport and airline before travelling. Some airports have quieter routes, sensory rooms or special-assistance services, although these often need to be booked in advance. A Hidden Disabilities Sunflower lanyard can discreetly indicate that you may need more time, patience or support, but what it provides varies between airports and countries. Noise-cancelling headphones (I couldn't live without my AirPods), sunglasses, comfortable clothes and downloading boarding passes in advance can also reduce some of the sensory and executive function load.
Losing my routine affects me more than I expect
At home, we often build routines without realising how much they support us. I know where everything is, I know what food is available, where I can go for quiet time, what my day usually looks like and what helps when I start becoming dysregulated. On holiday, all of that changes at once. My ADHD loves the novelty of being somewhere new, while my autistic brain is simultaneously asking “Okay… but when are we going back to normal?” Meal times are different, sleep is different, the room is unfamiliar, my belongings do not have their usual places, plans may be decided at the last minute. There can be an expectation to be spontaneous because “we’re on holiday,” but spontaneity is not always relaxing when your nervous system relies on predictability, even positive change is still change.
This is something people often miss. A beautiful hotel, an exciting day trip or a lovely meal can still involve transition, uncertainty and sensory demands. My body does not automatically decide that change is easy simply because the change is enjoyable.
Without my usual routines, I may forget to eat, drink enough water, take medication at the normal time or notice that I need a break. Then I can suddenly hit a wall and wonder why I feel irritable, emotional or completely exhausted.
What might help
Rather than trying to completely abandon routine because you are on holiday, create a temporary holiday routine. This could mean getting up at roughly the same time, having breakfast in the same place, keeping medication and essential items somewhere visible and building a quiet hour into each afternoon. The routine does not have to be strict or stop you being spontaneous. But it can give your nervous system a few predictable anchors while everything else is different.
Food can become complicated
Food abroad can be one of the best parts of travelling for me because I love all-inclusive, but it can also be difficult for neurodivergent people, and that is not the same as being fussy. Different brands, textures, smells, ingredients and ways of preparing food can make familiar looking meals feel completely unfamiliar. Buffets can be overwhelming because there are so many choices, people moving around you and uncertainty about what anything will taste like, while also not wanting to waste any. Menus might not explain ingredients clearly, and language differences can make it harder to ask questions or request changes. ADHD medication can also affect appetite, which was what I found hard this holiday. In the heat, hunger cues may become even easier to miss. Medication suppresses appetite, which can then cause you to feel shaky, irritable or overwhelmed without immediately connecting it to food.
What might help
Look at hotel menus, nearby shops and restaurant options before travelling, and pack safe snacks for the journey and the first day. Self catering accommodation may give you more control, while an all-inclusive hotel may reduce the number of daily decisions it depends on what works for your brain. You can also save translated explanations of allergies, dietary requirements or food preferences on your phone. Eating the same breakfast every day or buying familiar brands is an accommodation, not something you need to apologise for. Sometimes choosing the predictable option is exactly what allows a person to stay nourished and regulated enough to enjoy everything else.
The Heat!
Heat can completely change my capacity, and I am someone who struggles to regulate my temperature on the best of days. When I am too hot, every other sensation seems to get louder. Clothes stick to my skin, sun cream feels greasy, hair sticks to my face, sand gets everywhere, the sun is too bright, I am thirsty without noticing it, and suddenly someone asks me an innocent question and my nervous system responds as though they've personally caused the Turkish climate. Not like it was me who always chooses to go abroad during the hottest months. Sensory discomfort can make emotional regulation much harder.
From the outside, that might look like being snappy or miserable. Internally, my nervous system may be saying, “I cannot process one more thing.” Sensory discomfort is cumulative. The heat might be manageable on its own, noise might be manageable on its own, change of plan might be manageable on its own. But heat, noise, hunger, wet swimwear, crowds and an unexpected change happening together can push me beyond capacity. That is why my tolerance may appear different from one day to the next. It is not inconsistency for the sake of it. Capacity depends on how many demands have already been placed on the nervous system and how much recovery has been possible.
What might help
Plan around the heat rather than expecting yourself to push through it. For me telling everyone to fuck off for an hour while I sit in an air-conditioned room is self-care. Choose earlier or later times for trips, schedule time indoors during the hottest part of the day and carry water, a fan, sunglasses, a hat and anything else that helps you cool down. Comfortable clothing, alternative sun creams with more tolerable textures and changing out of wet swimwear quickly can reduce the sensory load. It can also help to agree that plans can change if the heat has already used up too much of your capacity.
This one is for the family holiday travelers
I love my family but I also need time when nobody is speaking to me, touching me, asking me questions or needing me to make another decision. On holiday, families often spend far more time together than they would at home. You may share one room, eat every meal together and move from one group activity to another, leaving very little natural space between people. Needing alone time does not mean I am rejecting anyone, It does not mean I am in a mood, ruining the holiday or do not want to make memories. It just means my brain needs less input for a while.
This can be particularly hard for parents because being away does not remove the mental load of parenting, especially if you have neurodivergent children. Children still need food, entertainment, sun cream, clean clothes, reassurance and help regulating their own emotions (while also killing each other if they are anything like my children). Parents may be managing everyone else’s needs while struggling to recognise their own.
What might help
Talk about alone time before the holiday instead of waiting until you are already overwhelmed. You might agree that everyone can have an hour doing their own thing, alternate busy family activities with quieter time or book accommodation with a balcony and a separate sleeping area. Explaining that alone time helps you return more regulated and present can also stop it from being misunderstood as rejection or moodiness. That pause can be the difference between regulating early and reaching complete overload later.
The pressure to enjoy every moment makes it harder
Holidays cost money. It may have taken months to save for and organise and that can create a huge amount of pressure to make the most of it. If I need to miss an activity, eat inside, leave somewhere early or spend time alone, guilt can quickly appear. I might tell myself I am wasting the holiday or letting everyone down, I might push past my limits because I think I should be enjoying myself.
But forcing myself through overload rarely creates a lovely memory; more often, it leads to irritability, shutdown, or needing much longer to recover. Rest does not become less valid because I could technically be beside the pool. A nervous system does not measure whether overwhelm is justified by how much the holiday cost. There is no prize for returning home having taken part in every activity while feeling dysregulated for most of it. A successful holiday does not have to mean doing everything. It can mean creating enough safety and flexibility to enjoy the things that genuinely matter.
What might help
Choose a few things that genuinely matter to you rather than treating every available activity as a must-do. Leave gaps in the itinerary and make opting out a normal option for everyone. If access needs make queues, crowds or long periods of standing difficult, check whether attractions recognise disability benefits, a blue badge, a Nimbus Access Card or use a Nimbus-supported access-registration scheme. Requirements differ between venues and destinations, so check directly before travelling rather than assuming one card or piece of evidence will be accepted everywhere.
Sometimes I do not realise I am overwhelmed until it comes out sideways
One of the harder parts of AuDHD for me is that I may not recognise my needs early enough because I spent most of my life masking. I can be having a good time and assume I am coping, then suddenly become irritated by small things or feel desperate to escape. The reaction may seem to be about someone asking a simple question, a child complaining, or a plan changing. In reality, that moment may only be the final demand after hours of noise, heat, decision-making and masking. Recognising my earlier signs helps me; it's when I notice I am becoming quieter, struggling to make decisions, feeling physically tense, being unable to follow conversation, getting annoyed by touch or noticing that every sound suddenly feels personal. The aim is not to judge myself for these signs; it is to treat them as information. My body is letting me know that something needs to change: less noise, food, water, shade, predictability, movement, rest or time alone.
What might help
Create a simple personal check-in and use it before you think you need it: Have I eaten? Have I had water? Am I too hot? Is it too loud? Do I need the toilet? Do I need to know what is happening next? Agreeing on a word, signal or phone message with the people you are travelling with can help you communicate that you need a pause without having to explain everything while already overwhelmed.
What helps me have a more neuro-affirming holiday?
A neuro-affirming holiday is not about eliminating every difficult feeling or planning the life out of the experience. It is about recognising that different brains need different conditions to feel safe and enjoy themselves. I always returning to the same destination or chain of hotels because it feels familiar, eat the same breakfast every day, spend time alone and have tight boundaries. Maybe you need a detailed plan, scheduled recovery days. Maybe all-inclusive is easier because it removes decisions, or self-catering feels safer because you can control your food and environment. None of those choices make your holiday less adventurous, less meaningful or less valid.
For me, it can help to:
look at the airport, hotel and transfer arrangements in advance
keep passports, medication and travel documents in one predictable place
bring headphones, sunglasses, familiar toiletries and comfortable clothes
pack safe snacks rather than assuming suitable food will always be available
protect sleep and medication routines where possible
build quieter days between busy trips
discuss plans in advance while leaving room for people to opt out
take breaks before I reach crisis point
allow myself time alone without framing it as rejection
remember that rest is part of the holiday, not time stolen from it
Most importantly, it helps when the people around me understand that accommodation is not special treatment. I am not asking the world to revolve around me, I am trying to work with my nervous system so I can be more present for the holiday rather than spending it using every bit of energy pretending I am fine.



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