Burnt Out, Neurodivergent, and Somehow Starting a Business
Let me get the obvious bit out of the way: starting a business while burnt out is a genuinely stupid plan. Starting one while burnt out and AuDHD is the kind of thing you'd gently talk a friend out of.
And yet. Here we are. Hi. I'm Katie, I made this whole thing, and I'd like to be honest with you about how.
The burnout came first
Not the glamorous 'I worked too hard and needed a spa day' version. The real one. The kind where replying to a text feels like lifting a car. Where you've masked for so long you're not totally sure which bits are you anymore. Where 'just rest' is useless advice because resting is also a task, and the task list is the problem.
I spent a long time trying to manage myself into being a person who functioned normally. Spoiler: it did not work. It mostly just made me more tired.
Why a shop, of all things
Fair question. When you can barely function, opening a business sounds unhinged.
But here's the thing about an ADHD brain: it doesn't run on 'should.' It runs on interest. And somewhere in the middle of the burnout, the idea of Dopamine Warehouse lit something up that hadn't lit up in a while. Not in a hustle-grindset way, in a 'oh, this is the shiny thing now' way. And for brains like mine, that spark is rare and worth chasing.
So I didn't build this despite being burnt out and neurodivergent. I built it because of it. It's the shop I needed and couldn't find, one that gets it, because I get it, because I am it.
How I'm actually doing it
Not the way the business books say. A few honest truths:
- I work in weird bursts. Some days I do a month's worth of stuff. Some days I do the bare minimum and that's allowed.
- I build systems so my future, more tired self can coast. Passwords saved. Templates ready. Decisions made in advance.
- I let the special interest carry me and I don't force the days it isn't there.
- I ask for help with the boring parts instead of white-knuckling all of it.
It's not tidy. It's not a five-year plan in a nice grid. It's a real business built at the pace of a real, knackered, neurodivergent human.
If you're in it too
If you're reading this while burnt out, wondering if you're allowed to want things and make things when you can barely make dinner, you are. You don't have to be fixed first. You don't have to earn rest. And you're allowed to build something weird and lovely on your own terms, even on the days it moves at a snail's pace.
Dopamine Warehouse is the proof, honestly. Made slowly, made tired, made with actual care.
Glad you're here, hun.
Katie x