When Christmas Feels Too Much: Understanding Emotional and Sensory Overload in Autism and ADHD
- Dr Sarah Cunningham

- Nov 27
- 4 min read
For many families, the holiday season is painted as a time of joy, sparkle, and togetherness. But real life is rarely that simple. December brings noise, lights, visitors, excitement, and expectations. For some families, that mix can tip from joyful to exhausting. Sometimes it’s a child who feels overwhelmed, sometimes it’s the parent, often it’s both.
While we’re using Christmas as an example here, the same patterns appear around other festive or family celebrations. Any time life gets louder, busier, and less predictable.
The pressure to get it “right”
Every advert, social feed, and well-meaning relative has a vision of what the holidays should look like: matching pyjamas, laughter over dinner, smiling faces opening presents. Most parents and carers, neurodivergent or not, absorb that message. For those raising children who are autistic or have ADHD, it can add a quiet layer of guilt: Why can’t our family enjoy it like everyone else seems to? The truth is, you’re not doing anything wrong. You’re simply parenting within a world that wasn’t built with your family’s needs in mind.
When excitement becomes overload
It’s easy to assume holiday stress is all about negative emotions, but excitement can be just as hard to regulate. Many neurodivergent children experience anticipation physically. This might mean a racing heart, fizzing energy, or trouble sleeping. The body doesn’t always distinguish between excitement and anxiety; both flood the system with stimulation. Think of it like an overflowing cup: every drop of joy, sugar, noise and expectation adds up. Once the cup is full, even something tiny — a tag that itches, a toy that doesn’t work — can cause it to spill.
Why festive environments are so demanding
Emotion regulation relies on the brain’s prefrontal cortex (the area that supports planning, adapting, and calming). It develops slowly, well into young adulthood. For people who are neurodivergent, those skills are often there, but they can take more effort to switch on, especially in busy, noisy, or emotionally charged moments. At the same time, sensory systems in autistic children may process information more intensely. When routines change, environments get louder, and social cues multiply, their brains have to work overtime to keep up. This doesn’t mean a person lacks skills; it means they’re spending more energy just to stay balanced. And when both parent and child are neurodivergent, everyone’s regulation threshold can feel lower. It’s not that anyone’s doing Christmas wrong. It’s that the world has turned the volume up, and no one can find the remote.

Presents, parties, and other invisible stressors
The social rules of gift-giving are tricky even for adults. A child might blurt out, “I didn’t want this,” or seem flat when you might have expected them to be excited. Usually this isn’t about trying to be rude or cause offence but that the person is either feeling overwhelmed or not sure how to respond in that moment. Sometimes the emotion is too big to manage and perform at the same time.
I remember a teenager telling me once that the best thing their parents did for them at Christmas was agree they could open their presents alone without a camera or an audience watching to see how they reacted. They said it meant they could actually enjoy their presents (or not) without worrying about what their face was doing, or whether they were upsetting anyone. It’s such a simple example, but it captures something important: joy and connection don’t always look the way we expect them to. That story has always stayed with me, because sometimes when we remove the pressure to show emotion, we create space for it to actually be felt.
The same idea applies beyond presents too. Many parts of the festive season ask children (and adults) to manage complex social rules and sensory input all at once. Family gatherings can bring unpredictable relatives, strong smells, multiple conversations, flashing lights. Even fun events can quietly drain energy reserves.

Finding calm in the chaos
You don’t need a full behaviour plan to make the season easier. Often it’s about giving yourself permission to do things differently.
Protect downtime. Schedule rest days where nothing is planned. Communicate clear expectations about participation: “I’d like you to be there when people arrive but then it’s fine to do your own thing for a bit.”
Simplify routines. Keep bedtimes, meals (don’t forget the safe foods), and comfort objects steady where you can.
Preview change. Talk through what’s coming — who’ll be there, what it might sound like, how long it will last. Some young people welcome suggestions about conversation starters or being supported to participate by showing a new toy or game. If you know there are parts someone might find tricky, come up with a plan — whether it’s okay to bring a prop to the dinner table, for example.
Balance stimulation. Pair exciting activities with calm ones: movie nights after busy days, quiet crafts after visitors, time out before or after a sit-down meal.
Manage expectations. Your child’s capacity for joy isn’t measured by how many events they attend.
And for parents: if you find yourself feeling drained, that’s valid too. Your nervous system is part of the picture; co-regulation works both ways.
Different doesn’t mean less
Whether your family celebrates Christmas, Diwali, Hanukkah, Eid, or simply enjoys a few slower winter days, the heart of the season is connection, not perfection. Opting for quiet mornings, smaller gatherings, or private gift-opening isn’t avoidance; it shows awareness and sensitivity.
Many neurodivergent adults say they wish their childhood holidays had been gentler, with fewer expectations and more space to breathe. Understanding how your child’s brain and body process the world allows you to build that gentleness now.
Whether you believe in the magic of the holiday season or know that you create the magic yourself, try to hold on to the parts that matter most to you and your family — not other people’s version of what celebrations could or should look like.
If this feels familiar
You don’t have to figure it out alone. At Insight, we offer therapeutic support and guidance for families navigating sensory, emotional, and social challenges to help you understand what’s happening beneath the behaviour, and how to support your child in ways that really work for them.


