Starting a Business with ADHD: My Chaotic, Honest Journey

Starting a business with ADHD isn’t linear or pretty. It’s chaos, false starts, hyperfocus highs, and terrifying lows. Here’s how I stopped pretending, built Neurodazzled®, and learned to work with my ADHD brain instead of against it.

I wish I could tell you I had a perfect plan when I started.
That I made a neat little timeline, ticked the right boxes, and launched with confidence.

But that’s not my story.

Or should I say our story, because my partner and soulmate, Danny, is right here in the same boat.

Starting a business with ADHD feels like trying to build IKEA furniture while the instructions keep blowing away in the wind. Some days I get everything done in a lightning bolt of energy. Other days I forget the simplest things — like answering an email or eating lunch.

And yet, here I am, building anyway.

I’ve had what most people would call a non-linear career.

I spent over twelve years teaching adults English — in classrooms, one-to-one sessions, and as a learning adviser. Then I joined Apple as a Specialist and Creative, leading Today at Apple sessions and helping people unlock creativity through technology.

Before that, I launched my own vegetarian catering and takeaway business, which even got nominated for a Swiss gastronomy award back in 2017 or 2018. It was thriving until the pandemic killed it — along with a very dangerous situation in my personal life that I’m just grateful I survived.

And in between? Honestly, about a thousand different jobs to keep the lights on. I sold Xerox printers. Cold-called for tech companies. Worked reception desks. Did back-office admin. Pitched fleet management software. Served as an ELT Adviser for Cambridge University Press.

Once, in Singapore, I even worked at a game and movie merchandise shop. That ended quickly — I was fired after closing early one day because I nearly fainted from period cramps. (Not my proudest moment, but also not something I’ll ever apologize for.)

On top of all that, I stacked up diplomas, certifications, and random skills like Lego blocks.

And here’s the twist: for thirty years I lived a double life. By day, teacher. By night, rock musician. I wrote, sang, and performed in bands. It was passion, adrenaline, and therapy rolled into one. But rock ’n’ roll has a dark side, and sobriety doesn’t always survive it. Eventually, I chose sobriety.

On paper, I looked like someone who could juggle anything. Inside, I was collapsing. Meetings. Procedures. Jobs that demanded I be a robot. My ADHD brain was suffocating, it always had, even back in school.

One day it clicked: maybe my brain wasn’t the problem.

Maybe the problem was trying to force my ADHD into a neurotypical mold.

I had spent years drowning in guilt. Guilt for not being “organized enough.” For self-medicating. For depression. For never wanting children. For not fitting into the calm, “normal” box of life.

I don’t feel guilty anymore. And neither should you.

So I quit. Not gracefully. Not with a five-year plan. I quit betraying myself. I quit numbing. I quit the guilt. And I started to learn what it meant to be me, ADHD, messy, flawed, and still create the life that was mine all along.

The first months? A disaster.

I bounced from idea to idea: coaching, online courses, dropshipping, digital products, bedsheets, Adobe animation, Canva templates, cat hotels, cat cafés — you name it, I dreamed it up.

I did finish a Certificate of Advanced Studies in Digital Marketing, under circumstances that nearly broke me. And I now have five other business ideas parked in my “Big Book of Ideas,” complete with domain names. One even has a trademark and business plan, waiting its turn after we grow Neurodazzled®.

Failure isn’t an option.

Most nights I researched until 3 AM, obsessing over Shopify apps like the world depended on it. My rational brain kept whispering: “Apply for jobs, just in case.”

Meanwhile, Danny was usually awake too — researching Magic: The Gathering strategies or optimizing his DJ setup, because his ADHD brain runs on the same late-night obsession engine as mine.

From the outside, it looked scattered. From the inside, it was scattered.

But now I see the thread: all those “random” attempts were about creating tools, products, and stories for people who think differently.

That thread became Neurodazzled®.

For years, I thought I had to succeed despite ADHD. Mask it. Hide it. Pretend.

But energy doesn’t lie. Neither does your vibe.

Now I know I succeed because of ADHD.

For everything it tried to destroy, I promised myself I’d use it to build. Not a quiet life, but an authentic, sustainable one.

• Hyperfocus is my superpower. I’ve built prototypes in days. Launched projects before others even finished their research.
• My systems don’t look “normal.” No tidy lists. I work in energy waves: creativity in the morning, admin in the afternoon, problem-solving at night. Anchor points instead of strict timetables.
• Scattered isn’t failure. Every half-built idea taught me something and pulled me closer to what I really want to build.

The Hard Stuff

I won’t sugarcoat it.

Some days I waste three hours tweaking a logo instead of sending an invoice. I miss deadlines when shiny new ideas hijack my brain. Investors don’t exactly line up for entrepreneurs without neat five-year forecasts.

And the self-doubt? It’s brutal. Sometimes I’m terrified.

The Wins That Keep Me Going

But then…

Someone emails to say a blog post made them feel understood.
A neurodivergent customer says: “Finally, something for me.”
Or I realize I’ve been building for months without that Sunday-night dread that used to crush me in “normal” jobs.

That’s why Danny and I keep going.

What Success Looks Like for Me

Success isn’t a chart. It’s not a textbook milestone.

It’s creating something authentic. Using ADHD strengths, creativity, resilience, curiosity, instead of hiding them.

The world doesn’t need another cookie-cutter business.
It needs businesses built by people who think differently.

That’s what I’m building with Neurodazzled®. Chaotic. Messy. Real.

To Anyone Else Out There

If you’re dreaming about starting something but your brain feels “too messy,” hear me: you’re not broken.

You don’t need to build like everyone else. You need to build like you.

It’s harder sometimes. You’ll stumble. But your perspective might be exactly what the world is missing.

Just… maybe don’t quit your day job in week one. (Learn from me.)

One hyperfocus session at a time. Connecting the dots as we go.

If this resonates, join the Neurodazzled® community. We’re building tools, apparel, and stories for ADHD and neurodivergent minds. Subscribe here: 

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