Couple of days ago I was travelling on a ferry to see my family ahead of Christmas. Windy, cold, the deck mostly empty. I’d gone out for a walk when I saw someone fall down on the level below me. Straight away something didn’t look right, and I went straight down.

With a couple of other passengers we helped him up. Within seconds it was clear he’d had a stroke. His speech, his movement, the confusion. All the signs were there.

I went to alert the crew and from that moment on, time did a strange thing. Everything moved quickly and slowly at the same time.

By pure luck an A&E doctor was onboard. Over the next couple of hours we worked together to stabilise him while we waited for helicopter evacuation. The patient was travelling alone, so a big part of the work was just being with him. Talking, reassuring, keeping him calm. Gathering medical history, relaying information between the doctor and the crew. Clearing airways, managing sickness, setting up a drip.

None of it glamorous. All of it necessary.

Eventually the helicopter arrived, the winchman came down and we agreed an evacuation plan. We moved the patient onto an evac board and without thinking I took the lead coordinating movement through tight corridors, up steep staircases, out onto the deck.

At the end it was just me, the patient, and the helicopter crew member. Only the three of us as the helicopter came in and hovered about 40 feet above us. Downdraft, wind, sea spray, noise, darkness. We hooked up the patient, and up he went; I then quickly helped the winchman and up he went, and then the helicopter disappeared into the night.

I then went back down (washed the various bodily fluids and vomit off me) and then just moved onto the next thing… which happened to be bottle of pop and bite to eat.

Why ADHD brains go quiet in crisis

I’ve seen this pattern many times, both in myself and in the people I coach. In a crisis, something shifts.

The mental noise drops away, and the overthinking disappears. There’s no internal debate about the best way to start… the stakes are clear, the priority is singular, and the feedback is immediate.

For many ADHD brains that combination is powerful. Urgency brings dopamine, clear stakes collapse all the competing thoughts, presence replaces paralysis. Pattern recognition, communication, action.. they all come online fast.

This is why so many ADHDers are calm in emergencies but overwhelmed by admin. The reason why we can coordinate people in chaos but freeze when faced with an email inbox or a blank document on a quiet Tuesday morning.

It’s not a contradiction. It’s conditions.

That day on the ferry didn’t make me a different person. It simply put me in an environment that matched how my brain works.

What leadership actually looks like

One of the things that I recognised (and I want to also make clear) is that none of this was heroic – It felt obvious. Something needed doing, people needed coordinating, someone needed to stay calm and communicate clearly and keep things moving. So that’s what happened.

This kind of leadership often goes unnoticed in traditional workplaces. We reward composure in meetings, long-term planning, tidy execution. We rarely notice the person who quietly steps forward when things go sideways.

ADHD leadership often looks like fast situational awareness, clear communication under pressure, emotional attunement, decisiveness when stakes are real, staying present when others freeze. But because it doesn’t show up neatly in calendars or OKRs, it’s easy to miss.

The question that actually matters

I work with a lot of ADHD founders and leaders who are hard on themselves. They focus on what they struggle with. Task initiation, overwhelm, follow-through, energy crashes. Those challenges are real and I don’t minimise them.

But moments like this are a reminder that the question isn’t “what’s wrong with me”. It’s often “under what conditions do I work best”.

ADHD isn’t easy and it isn’t a superpower in the simplistic way people like to frame it. But it does come with strengths that only really reveal themselves when we stop judging the brain and start understanding it.

Sometimes leadership isn’t about a job title or a role or a hierarchy. Sometimes it’s about noticing, stepping forward, and staying present when it matters.

The brain that struggles in quiet moments can be the one that shows up best when things get real.

I’m Phil, an ICF-certified coach for ADHDers and a Neurodiversity consultant. A former combat-zone operator and veteran tech exec, who now works with founders, business owners and industry leaders who are overwhelmed. My experience with depression, anxiety, corporate leadership and late-diagnosed ADHD now power a blend of military-grade candour, deep empathy and laser-focused strategy. Why not chat with 𝗥𝗲𝗣𝗵𝗶𝗹 𝗢𝗻 𝗧𝗵𝗲 𝗚𝗼 my 𝗙𝗥𝗘𝗘 AI ADHD coach; or equally book a free discovery session with me directly!