Daniel Buckley was thirty-two before he had a name for what was going on in his head. For as long as he could remember he had been restless, discontented, unable to sit still or hold his focus on anything that didn’t grip him - and he had simply assumed that was him. That was the way he was, and the way life was.
His wife Simone saw it long before he did. For more than a decade she told him something wasn’t right, that he couldn’t rest, that he had no structure. He wasn’t ready to hear it. The day before she died, after years of illness, she went through his symptoms one by one and asked him to get help for his ADHD.
Daniel tells Laura what happened next - the newspaper article that felt like a tap on the shoulder, the Irish clinics that never rang him back, the trip to England to be assessed at all. He is open about drinking to escape thoughts he had no other way of managing, about the day he stopped, and about the ordinary moment months later when he heard his son laughing outside an open window and realised he had never felt peace before. It’s also the story of what he built out of it: a service designed, in his words, to get people to a clinician in weeks rather than years.
He spent thirty-two years assuming that was just who he was
Restless, discontented, unable to focus — Daniel had no framework for any of it until he was assessed at thirty-two.
Simone saw it more than a decade before he accepted it
He only heard it the day before she died, when she went through his symptoms and asked him to get help.
Undiagnosed ADHD and alcohol are closely linked
Daniel describes drinking to escape feelings he couldn’t regulate. He stopped in August 2022, so he could be the father his son deserved.
There was no route to a diagnosis in Ireland
Public waiting lists ran to years, and not one of the private clinics he rang or emailed came back to him. He was assessed in England instead.
He chose therapy and coaching over medication
Having stopped drinking, he worked weekly on emotional regulation, learning to recognise emotions he’d never had names for.
Peace arrived as an ordinary moment
Months after his diagnosis he heard his son laughing with friends through an open window and felt, for the first time, that he was all right.
A diagnosis is a turning point, not an end point
The piece of paper changes nothing on its own. What matters is the understanding and the support that come after it.
He built the service he couldn’t find
ADHD Now offers access to a clinician within seven days and has grown to over a hundred clinicians across ADHD and autism care.
Daniel’s online ADHD assessment and support service
The autism and AuDHD assessment service built alongside it
The national charity, with support groups and information
Free, confidential support, any time, on 116 123
02:54 — Diagnosed at thirty-two, and the bottlenecks he hit
03:38 — “That’s the way I am, that’s the way life is”
04:24 — Illness, Joey’s arrival, and Simone going on dialysis
07:33 — Drinking to escape, and the day he stopped
09:38 — A decade of Simone telling him something was wrong
10:05 — The day before she died: “please get help for your ADHD”
11:45 — The newspaper article that felt like a tap on the shoulder
12:23 — No one called back, so he went to England
16:55 — “A diagnosis is not the end point. That’s the turning point.”
19:35 — Hearing his son laugh, and feeling peace for the first time
21:12 — The stranger outside the hospital who became his business partner
40:00 — Advice for young people, and what he thinks life means
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