Let’s talk about the ADHD tax.
It sounds almost funny, doesn’t it?
Like something you’d joke about over coffee.
“Oh yes, I paid my ADHD tax this week.”
The reality is that for many people with ADHD, it isn’t funny at all.
The ADHD tax is the unofficial term used to describe the extra financial costs that can come from living with ADHD. It’s not an actual tax, of course. It’s the hidden cost of executive dysfunction, time blindness, working memory difficulties, impulsivity, and the many ways ADHD quietly sneaks into everyday life.
It’s the money you never planned to spend.
And somehow, it always seems to arrive at exactly the wrong time.
It isn’t about being irresponsible
I think this is the most important thing to understand.
The ADHD tax isn’t a character flaw.
It’s rarely about not caring.
More often, it’s the result of a brain that struggles with planning, remembering, prioritising, and regulating attention.
Research consistently shows that ADHD affects executive functioning and reward processing. Those differences can make everyday financial management considerably more challenging, even for people who are intelligent, organised in other areas of life, and genuinely trying their best.
Knowing what to do and consistently being able to do it are two very different things.
The subscriptions we all forgot about
Let’s start with a familiar one.
You sign up for a free trial.
You fully intend to cancel it.
In fact, you even remember that you need to cancel it…
…right up until the moment you don’t.
Suddenly it’s three months later and you’ve unknowingly funded a meditation app, a streaming service you used twice, and a language course you were absolutely convinced you were going to complete.
Your intentions were good.
Your working memory just had other plans.
Where did I put that?
Then there’s losing things.
Keys.
Wallets.
Phone chargers.
Bank cards.
Glasses.
The jumper you were wearing five minutes ago.
Sometimes I genuinely think people with ADHD could hide the Crown Jewels by accident.
Many of us don’t lose things because we’re careless.
We lose them because our brains are already focused on the next thing before the current thing has been given a permanent home.
So we put it down.
Somewhere “safe.”
Which, unfortunately, often means somewhere that becomes a complete mystery approximately thirty seconds later.
The result?
Replacing keys.
Ordering another bank card.
Buying another phone charger.
Purchasing another black T-shirt because the original has entered what I like to imagine is a parallel universe reserved exclusively for missing socks and headphones.
The expensive asparagus
Then there’s food.
This one hurts.
Literally and financially.
You buy beautiful fresh vegetables.
You have every intention of making that healthy dinner.
Then life happens.
The asparagus goes into the vegetable drawer.
The vegetable drawer becomes another dimension.
Three weeks later you discover what can only be described as an archaeological excavation.
The intention was never the problem.
Object permanence and working memory often are.
When something disappears from sight, it can genuinely disappear from awareness until something reminds us it exists.
Dopamine is expensive
One area that research has explored is the relationship between ADHD and reward seeking.
Dopamine plays an important role in motivation, anticipation, learning, and reward. Because dopamine pathways function differently in ADHD, many people naturally seek activities that provide immediate stimulation.
Shopping can do exactly that.
There’s excitement.
Novelty.
Possibility.
That lovely little burst of anticipation while waiting for the parcel to arrive.
Sometimes the dopamine comes from buying the thing rather than actually using it.
If you’ve ever enthusiastically purchased supplies for a hobby, only for them to remain untouched in a cupboard six months later, you’re certainly not alone.
I say this with absolutely no judgement while quietly looking at several craft supplies that were once going to change my life.
Small changes can make a big difference
One thing I’ve learned is that trying to rely on willpower alone usually isn’t the answer.
Building systems is.
For example, if I’m shopping online, I try to give myself a cooling off period.
I’ll add something to my basket.
Then I leave it there for a day or two.
Sometimes even a week.
If I come back and still genuinely want it, brilliant.
If I’ve completely forgotten it exists…
Well, perhaps my brain has already answered the question for me.
Returning things is also a task
This might sound obvious, but returning something you’ve bought isn’t just one task.
It’s several.
Repackage it.
Print a label.
Find the receipt.
Take it to the post office.
Remember before the returns window closes.
That’s a lot of executive functioning.
Sometimes I ask myself a simple question before buying something.
“If I’m already wondering whether I’ll return this, do I actually want it?”
Quite often, the answer is no.
Let technology do some of the remembering
One of the kindest things we can do for an ADHD brain is stop expecting it to remember absolutely everything.
Direct debits for essential bills.
Automatic savings.
Calendar reminders.
Digital alerts.
They’re not signs you’ve failed.
They’re examples of working with your brain instead of constantly asking it to do something it finds difficult.
Sometimes the hardest part is setting these systems up.
This is where body doubling can be incredibly helpful.
Ask a friend to sit with you while you do it.
They don’t need to solve the problem.
Their presence is often enough to help your brain stay engaged until the task is finished.
Audit your subscriptions
Every few months, I recommend doing what I call a life admin reset.
Make a cup of tea.
Open your banking app.
Look through your subscriptions.
Ask yourself three questions.
Do I still use this?
Do I still need this?
Would I buy it again today?
Sometimes the answer will surprise you.
Keeping a visible list of regular payments can also help. Not because your memory is bad, but because ADHD brains often work best when information stays visible rather than hidden away.
Out of sight really can become out of mind.
Reward yourself afterwards
One thing I often encourage clients to do is pair difficult tasks with something enjoyable.
After you’ve sorted your subscriptions…
Go for lunch.
Watch the next episode of that series you’ve been saving.
Go for a walk.
Buy yourself a nice coffee.
Not because you’ve “earned” rest.
You were always allowed to rest.
But because our brains are far more likely to repeat behaviours that feel rewarding.
Motivation works much better when it’s invited rather than demanded.
“Don’t put it down. Put it away.”
This might be one of my favourite ADHD phrases.
“Don’t put it down.
Put it away.”
It’s deceptively simple.
Everything needs a home.
Keys live by the front door.
Wallet lives in the tray.
Headphones live in the drawer.
Medication lives next to the kettle.
For me?
Pens.
Pens seem to migrate around my house like tiny plastic wildlife.
So I gave up trying to fight it.
Instead, I have three pen mugs in different rooms.
Each one is labelled “Pens.”
If I find one, it goes into the nearest mug.
Is it a perfect system?
Absolutely not.
Does it mean I buy significantly fewer pens than I used to?
Also yes.
Sometimes adapting your environment is far easier than trying to change your brain.
A final thought
The ADHD tax isn’t really about money.
It’s about compassion.
Because every late fee, forgotten subscription, replaced key, or mouldy bag of salad can quietly reinforce the belief that we’re careless, irresponsible, or “bad at being an adult.”
I don’t believe that’s true.
I believe most people with ADHD have spent years trying incredibly hard in systems that weren’t designed with their brains in mind.
The goal isn’t to eliminate every ADHD tax. I don’t think any of us are going to become perfectly organised overnight.
The goal is to reduce it where we can.
To build systems instead of relying solely on memory.
To make our environments work with us instead of against us.
To laugh when we can.
To forgive ourselves when we need to.
And to remember that every pound saved isn’t just money in the bank.
It’s another small reminder that understanding your brain is always more powerful than blaming it.