You know the feeling: it’s late, you’re tired, and you know you should go to sleep. But instead, you find yourself doing anything but that—scrolling, watching something “just one more episode” long, or deep diving into a hyperfocus hobby at 2am.
This phenomenon is called revenge bedtime procrastination, and while it might sound dramatic, it’s a surprisingly common behaviour—especially among neurodivergent adults. For people with autism, ADHD, or a PDA (Pathological Demand Avoidance) profile, this pattern isn’t just about poor time management or lack of willpower. It’s often a complex response to a world that demands too much during the day and offers too little space to just be yourself.
The Emotional Logic Behind Late Nights
For many neurodivergent people, daily life is full of demands—some explicit, some subtle. Navigating social norms, masking, maintaining routines, managing executive functioning, or simply coping with sensory overwhelm can take a toll. By the time evening rolls around, the pressure to transition immediately into “sleep mode” can feel like just one more demand in a long list.
That’s where revenge bedtime procrastination creeps in. It’s not always a conscious act of rebellion—it’s often the only time of day someone feels fully in control. The late-night hours become sacred, unscheduled space where nobody’s asking anything of you. That feeling of autonomy can be hard to let go of, even when exhaustion sets in.
For people with PDA tendencies, even internal routines like “I should go to bed now” can feel like demands to resist. In those moments, resisting sleep can feel like reclaiming freedom—paradoxical, but very real.
Why ADHD and Autism Make Sleep Harder
ADHD brains tend to experience delayed circadian rhythms, meaning the natural “sleepy time” often doesn’t arrive until much later than social norms expect. Pair that with difficulties in transitioning between tasks and a tendency to hyperfocus late at night—when the world is finally quiet—and you’ve got a recipe for bedtime avoidance.
Autistic individuals, meanwhile, may rely on evening hours for decompression after a full day of sensory and social input. Sleep requires regulation—both physical and emotional—and that can be a tall order when the nervous system is still processing everything that’s happened.
In this context, staying up late doesn’t look like poor discipline. It looks like survival.
So What Actually Helps?
Sleep hygiene advice like “just turn off your phone” or “stick to a strict bedtime” often doesn’t land. It can feel patronising—or worse, completely incompatible with the way your brain works. But that doesn’t mean support is out of reach. It just means we need strategies that centre autonomy, sensory needs, and realistic rhythms.
One approach is to reframe how we talk to ourselves about sleep. Instead of internal scripts like “I should go to bed”, try shifting to softer, observational statements: “It’s 1am and I’m still scrolling—maybe my brain is looking for something” or “I notice I’m putting off sleep—what might I still need right now?” These declarative phrases invite curiosity instead of pressure, which can be a powerful shift for someone with a PDA profile.
It also helps to rethink what a “bedtime routine” looks like. Rather than a rigid checklist, think of it as a menu of options you can choose from based on how you feel that night. Some nights, it might be a warm shower and low lighting. Other nights, it might be listening to an audiobook or simply lying down with no expectation of sleep—just rest. For people who thrive on variety or struggle with executive function, flexibility is often more effective than consistency.
If you live with ADHD, building gentle transitions from stimulation to rest can be game-changing. Jumping straight from a dopamine-rich task to trying to sleep is like slamming the brakes on a speeding car. Instead, consider a “buffer zone”—a less stimulating, but still engaging, activity to help wind down. Think of it as shifting gears rather than hitting a wall.
And perhaps most importantly, sleep needs to feel like it belongs to you, not a schedule imposed by society. You may not have the luxury of completely designing your own hours—but wherever possible, give yourself permission to rest in ways that make sense for your brain. If that means napping in the afternoon or winding down at 2am when the house is finally quiet, that’s okay.
Moving Forward Without Blame
For many neurodivergent people, especially those navigating low self-worth or internalised pressure to “fix” their lives, sleep struggles can feel like personal failure. But revenge bedtime procrastination isn’t a character flaw—it’s information. It’s a message from your nervous system that something needs attention: time, autonomy, decompression, or perhaps just permission to not do.
You don’t need to solve it all at once. You don’t even need to turn it into a project. Even just recognising the pattern—naming it—is a step toward reclaiming rest on your own terms.
If this resonates with you, or someone you support, you’re not alone. I’ve created a downloadable version of these ideas as a printable suggestion sheet for neurodivergent adults. Drop me a message if you’d like a copy.
Let’s make rest less of a demand—and more of a decision that feels safe.