ADHD, Autism, and Addiction: How Screens, Gaming, and THC Hook Neurodivergent Teens
In my last blog I shared about my family: three generations of ADHD, autistic-leaning brains. My dad, me, my son. Neurodivergence isn't an abstract clinical idea in our family. It bleeds into every aspect of our home life: our conversations, our arguments, our repair work, and our humor.
In this blog I want to talk about what happens when those brains collide with substances, gaming, and online gambling. Not to scare you (well, maybe a little), but to help you understand why these things are so compelling for our kids and what you can actually do about it. If you're parenting a neurodivergent little (or not-so-little), understanding the why is the first step in protecting them.
How modern childhood clashes with adhd and autism
Remember when I told you that when my dad was eight, my grandmother used to drop him off at the Museum of Natural History in Chicago for the day? Alone. (I am absolutely not suggesting you try this in 2026. If you did, you'd probably meet Child Protective Services before you got back home.)
But my grandmother, with only a high school education, understood something profound about my dad's ADHD brain: he needed movement, novelty, and challenge. At the museum, he followed his curiosity from dinosaurs to dioramas, problem-solved his way to the bathroom, and figured out where to meet her at the end of the day. His brain was lit up. He was literally wiring neural pathways through free-range exploration and real-world trial and error.
He went to an all-boys school where boys could mostly be boys. Summer camp meant being outside, unsupervised in ways that would make today's camp directors faint. He made mistakes and dealt with consequences. His nervous system was engaged by life, not by screens.
I have a colleague now raising a toddler in Puerto Rico who's very intentionally trying to give her daughter a version of that freedom. She lets her climb, explore, get dirty, wander within safe bounds, and learn through a thousand tiny experiments with the world. When we were discussing a case recently, she asked me about my dad's childhood and I felt this little ache of envy and regret. A part of me wishes I could have a do-over with my own kids, knowing what I know now about their brains and what they actually needed more of.
Today’s culture (education, early screens, level of supervision) is tough for the ADHD brain
Now picture today's ADHD kid. They're strapped into a desk designed for a quiet, compliant, neurotypical child. They're corrected for talking too much, moving too much, not trying hard enough. In a classroom of 25 kids, they overwhelm the teacher who's trying to teach, not manage behavior, and they're deemed "a problem." Gone are the days of roaming the neighborhood. Do you see kids on their bikes anymore? Playing outside? Rarely. God forbid they ride public transit alone. Their world is smaller, more sedentary, and much more supervised. But their brain is still wired for movement, novelty, and big bursts of dopamine.
Now, we hand our kids screens early. Too early. Often because we desperately need a break, and I say that with zero judgment. (Do you ever see screens plopped in front of babies or toddlers in a restaurant, in an effort to keep them quiet? I do, and truthfully, I'm super judgy about that!) Instead of the slower pacing of TV shows many of us grew up with (Mr. Rogers, Sesame Street), they're watching highly stimulating shows and online content that train their brains to expect constant novelty and instant payoff.
Then come smartphones and video games. Many popular games quietly teach kids to gamble: loot boxes, mystery rewards, skins you can buy or trade, variable reward systems that feel like slot machines. Kids learn, very early, to spend real or virtual money for a chance at a big hit. I know too many families who innocuously gave their kids the credit card to buy a token and were shocked to see purchases in the multi-hundred range on their statement. Yikes.
Layer on THC vapes and edibles that are everywhere, with synthetic variants sold in gas stations and corner stores, and you have a perfect storm. Substances like alcohol or THC, and online gambling or gaming, actually work really well for ADHD brains in the short term.
why ADHD brains are drawn to screens, gaming and substances
ADHD, Dopamine and the Search for Stimulation
A lot of families are blindsided when their funny, bright, impulsive kid with ADHD suddenly starts experimenting with alcohol, cannabis, nicotine, or pills, and quickly gets labeled a "troubled teen." But there are clear brain-based reasons why ADHD teens are at higher risk. Under the hood, ADHD is tied to differences in dopamine and reward circuitry. Everyday life often feels understimulating, tedious, or chronically "too much work for too little payoff." Substances offer a fast, powerful hit of reward or relief - which can feel like the first thing that actually works for boredom, restlessness, or low mood. Online gambling works the same way: variable rewards, instant feedback, the thrill of risk-taking - all packaged in an app that's always accessible.
Add in steep delay discounting (preferring immediate rewards over future benefits) and weaker prefrontal "brakes," and it becomes much easier to say yes in the moment and worry about consequences later.
On top of that, ADHD teens often carry a lot of school failure, peer rejection, and family conflict. Substances can temporarily soften social anxiety, ease emotional pain, or make peer groups feel more accessible - even as they quietly erode functioning.
Why autistic teens retreat into gaming and online worlds
When I sit with autistic teens, I hear a version of the same sentence again and again: the online world just feels safer. There's structure, clear rules, quick feedback, and the option to mute, block, or disappear for a bit when things get too intense.
Real life doesn't usually feel that way. School is loud and bright and busy. The hallway conversations move too fast. The social rules seem to shift from day to day and by TikTok video to TikTok video, and no one hands you a clear guidebook. You're left to figure it out all while your brain doesn't read nonverbal facial cues or subtle nuances. So it makes sense that their bodies and brains drift toward the place that feels more predictable and where they can actually excel.
Over time, screens start to give them almost everything they're hungry for: routine, mastery, a sense of competence, a break from constant sensory and social demand, and a connection to other humans with the same challenges who meet in the same virtual space.
Why Online Spaces Feel Safer Than School or Social Life
However, instead of practicing being with other people in all the small, messy ways that help us grow (micro personal interactions), they retreat into the world of gaming. Gaming becomes the safe place and the hiding place at the same time. Their nervous system learns, "I feel okay when I'm here. I feel too much when I'm out there." Anxiety and avoidance grow around that story, and it can be very hard to interrupt from the inside. Over time, though, reliance on screens can crowd out sleep, school, and in-person relationships, leaving parents feeling like their child has vanished into a digital world.
Autistic neurology also supports deep, focused engagement with special interests. When those interests connect to gaming or online communities, hours can disappear in a way that looks like "addiction" but functions as a primary coping tool - for anxiety, loneliness, or exhaustion from masking.
I've known too many of these kids, terrified to engage in the real world. And taking their gaming systems away will invite the same reaction as taking vodka away from an alcoholic. They'll dig in, get angry, and sometimes even violent. This is a hard place to be.
are these bad choices or coping strategies?
Why won't she just put the phone down? Why does he keep sneaking weed when he knows it's wrecking his academics? Why are they blowing their savings on some online game?
What it Actually Feels Like Inside Their Nervous System
From the inside, it often feels like:
This is the only thing that makes my brain feel okay. If I stop, everything will crash in on me.
I don't know how to face school, friends, or life without this.
What looks like bad choices is often a desperate attempt to manage a nervous system that feels out of control.
And this is where so many thoughtful, loving parents hit a wall and, eventually, land in my virtual office.
What parents can do when screens, gaming or weed take over
If you're seeing your child in this, I get it. Your first instinct is probably to jump straight to limits. Take the phone. Shut down the game. Tighten everything up.
But here's the thing: you cannot change their wiring, and you cannot rewrite the culture. What you can do is slowly change the conditions they're living in.
Lean in with curiosity over correction or judgment
Instead of "You're addicted to your phone," it sounds more like, "It seems like this is the main way your brain calms down right now," or, "School feels so big and overwhelming that staying in bed and scrolling feels easier." These statements show compassion and your concern, but you're showing them that you see the why, not just the what.
From there, curiosity is usually more powerful than a lecture. Questions like, "What does gaming or vaping do for you that nothing else does?" or "When is it hardest to stop?" or "If nothing changed, where do you think this would be in six months?" can open honest conversations you would never get by arguing about screen time minutes.
Pair limits with support, not just consequences
For many families, that looks like a little less access (devices out of bedrooms at night, fewer unsupervised hours), a little less overwhelm (tasks broken down, clearer routines), and a little more of the right kinds of input for this particular brain (movement, sensory tools, chances to feel competent at something real). You're not trying to will your child into a different nervous system. You're shaping a world that asks less of their weakest muscles and gives more room for their strengths to matter.
And sometimes you can't do this alone. You need professional support.
when to consider higher levels of care for neurodivergent teens
If you're here, you're not alone
I didn't come to this work as a neutral observer. I navigated a lot of this as a mother of an ADHD kiddo who wandered further into substances than we ever imagined and, through an enormous amount of work, support, and courage (his and ours), found his way back out.
So when I talk with a family about higher levels of care, I'm not speaking from theory. I'm speaking as someone who has sat at the kitchen table with the pit in your stomach, the sleepless nights, the "Is it really that bad?" bargaining, and the "Are we really doing this?" forms.
If any of this sounds uncomfortably familiar, please hear this:
You did not cause your child's neurodivergent brain.
You did not create a dopamine system that needs more stimulation than the modern classroom can offer.
You also did not design a culture that sells slot machine mechanics and THC to the kids whose brains are least equipped to resist them.
What you can do is notice the patterns, get curious instead of purely punitive, and, when needed, bring in more support than weekly therapy can offer.
If you're standing at that crossroads and trying to decide what level of care your child needs, or you're just starting to worry that their coping strategies are getting bigger than you can safely hold at home, you don't have to figure this out alone.
When Outpatient Options Are Exhausted: Why I Sometimes Recommend Therapeutic Boarding Schools
In my work, I'm very much a proponent of high-quality programs within what most people call the troubled teen industry, particularly therapeutic boarding schools, residential centers, and nature-based wilderness programs that are developmentally informed, neurodivergent-aware, trauma informed, and clinically grounded.
Signs outpatient support is no longer enough
Safety is truly at risk because of substance use, self-harm, or severe dysregulation.
Technology or gaming have taken over to the point that school, sleep, and relationships have collapsed.
Home has become a 24/7 crisis zone, and parents are being asked to function as full-time clinicians and supervisors.
The young person cannot access or implement the skills they're learning in outpatient therapy because the environment is too chaotic or tempting.
In those scenarios, staying at the same level of care is not neutral. It often means continued deterioration. Recommending an appropriate therapeutic boarding school isn't about giving up.
What therapeutic boarding schools can do that parents can’t do alone
Keep kids physically safe from substances or uncontrolled technology.
Maintain school engagement and credit accumulation so their future stays open.
Provide consistent structure, clear expectations, and a therapeutic community that understands ADHD and autism as neurodevelopmental differences, not moral failures.
Systematically teach and rehearse coping skills that replace avoidance (using, gaming, shutting down) with more adaptive ways of getting through hard moments.
In other words, we use the best of the troubled teen industry intentionally: to keep kids safe, help them learn new coping skills, and practice getting through life without relying on substances or gaming as their primary escape.
If you're navigating these decisions and need guidance, reach out. We've helped hundreds of families find the right level of care - and the right program - when outpatient options weren't enough. You don't have to figure this out alone.
Jennifer Benson, MSW | Crossbridge Consulting | jennifer@teamcrossbridge.com
