There's a guy called Vitalik Buterin.
He built Ethereum. The whole thing. One of the most valuable networks on the planet.
You know why?
Because someone nerfed his World of Warcraft character.
I'm not making this up. Blizzard changed his favourite warlock ability, he got mad, he quit, and he went off and invented a new kind of money.
I didn't invent a new kind of money. But I did do the neurodivergent version of the same thing.
Let me back up.
For people who've never played World of Warcraft, the game lets you install things called addons.
Addons are little tools that change how your screen looks and how information gets shown to you. The game gives you a basic interface. Addons let you rebuild it.
Think of it like this: imagine your car dashboard only showed your speed. No fuel gauge. No temperature. No check engine light. Just speed.
Now imagine someone said, "Hey, you can install whatever gauges you want. Rearrange them however you like. Build the dashboard that actually makes sense to your brain."
That's what addons are.
And if you're a healer, you need a lot of gauges.
Here's the thing about healing in World of Warcraft that non-gamers might not expect.
It's an information management problem.
You've got twenty-five people in a group. They're all taking damage at different rates. You've got maybe six seconds to figure out who's about to die, what spell to cast, how much mana you have left, and whether the guy standing in the fire is going to move or if he's just committed to his life choices.
Six seconds. Twenty-five health bars. Thirty abilities. One brain.
You're sitting in a cockpit. And if your brain processes information in bursts, if you hyperfocus on one thing and lose the other twenty-four, you need that cockpit to work with you, not against you.
So you customise.
You move health bars closer together. You colour-code debuffs. You set up warnings that flash when someone drops below thirty percent. You rearrange everything until the right information hits your eyes at the right time.
You hack the interface to fit your brain.
It's not cheating. It's survival.
When Blizzard released Midnight on 2 March 2026, they gutted the addon system. Significant chunks of functionality, just gone. The tools that healers like me had spent years building and refining, the systems we'd wired into muscle memory. Stripped out.
I get it. Game design is complicated. Balance is hard. I'm sure there was a meeting. I'm sure someone had a slide deck.
But here's what I don't think they understood:
For neurodivergent players, addons weren't a luxury. They were accessibility.
They were the thing that made the game playable.
They did put a lot of it back, eventually. Credit where it's due.
But the damage was done. Not to the game. To the trust.
Because here's what happens when you're neurodivergent and someone takes away the system you built to cope: you don't just get frustrated. You get the message.
This wasn't built for you.
And once you hear that clearly enough, you stop trying to fix their thing. You go looking for the addon that doesn't exist yet.
I'd been in disability support for fifteen years by that point.
Twelve years of watching neurodivergent people try to use systems that weren't designed for them. Government forms. Funding applications. Appointment schedules. The entire concept of "just write a to-do list."
And fifteen years of watching the same instinct I had in WoW: people quietly hacking. Building workarounds. Reshaping their environment until their brain could function inside it.
Everyone was looking for the addon that doesn't exist yet. I just didn't have language for it until Blizzard took mine away.
Glasses don't train your eyes to see better. They correct the deficit at the point of use. Every time. Without effort. Nobody calls them "assistive technology" anymore. They're just glasses.
Addons were my glasses. They corrected the interface at the point of performance. When they disappeared, I realised: the same correction is what every neurodivergent person needs. Not for a game. For life.
That's what Neuro Support is.
It's the addon for real life.
Not a game overlay. Not colour-coded health bars. But the same principle: take a system that doesn't work for your brain, and rebuild the interface until it does.
I built a system called the Neuro Agent. A Custom Agent on your phone that helps you manage your support, your information, your daily chaos. It captures thoughts when your brain fires them. It organises what you can't. It remembers so you don't have to.
It's a cockpit. For life.
And the whole thing exists because Blizzard nerfed my addons.
Vitalik lost his warlock and built Ethereum.
I lost my healer and built Neuro Support.
His is worth more money.
Mine helps people get through Tuesdays.
I'm okay with that trade.
Jamie Robinson is the founder of Neuro Support, a specialist neurodivergent support service based in Christchurch, New Zealand. He still occasionally misses his healing addons. Next: Why Every System I Built Failed by Week Three.