Why Are Neurodivergent People at Higher Risk for Suicide?

Bridgette Hamstead

Suicide is a crisis in the neurodivergent community, one that is rarely acknowledged, let alone adequately addressed. Research shows that autistic individuals are three to seven times more likely to die by suicide than the general population, with similarly high risks for those with ADHD. Despite this, the unique factors that contribute to neurodivergent suicidality are often misunderstood or ignored by medical professionals, mental health services, and the broader public. For many autistic and ADHD individuals, suicidality is not rooted in intrinsic mental illness but in the systemic barriers, societal alienation, and chronic trauma of existing in a world that does not accommodate or understand them. The intersection of social isolation, unmet support needs, masking, burnout, and repeated experiences of rejection can create overwhelming distress that leads to crisis points.

I know this firsthand. I struggled with suicidality since childhood and experienced several attempts in my young adulthood. It wasn’t until I identified as autistic, completely changed my life, and built an environment that supported my needs that I finally began living without suicidal ideation. I have now spent five years free from the constant pull of suicidal thoughts, but I know how close I came to not making it here—and I know that many in our community are still suffering, often silently. The reality is that autistic individuals without intellectual disabilities are nine times more likely to die by suicide than the general population. Up to seventy-two percent of autistic adults experience suicidal ideation at some point in their lives, and ADHD individuals are at least four times more likely to attempt suicide than neurotypicals. Autistic and ADHD individuals frequently mask distress, leading to underreporting of suicidal thoughts and self-harm. Despite this data, suicide prevention efforts rarely focus on neurodivergent people, and standard mental health interventions fail to account for neurodivergent needs and communication differences.

Many neurodivergent individuals struggle with deep social isolation. Autistic people often experience difficulties with social communication, while ADHD individuals may struggle with emotional impulsivity and rejection sensitivity. Both groups frequently encounter bullying, exclusion, and difficulties forming stable relationships. Many autistic individuals report feeling like they are too much or not enough—too intense, too quiet, too blunt, too sensitive, too disconnected. ADHDers often struggle with rejection sensitivity dysphoria, where perceived or actual rejection feels unbearably painful. Years of rejection, loneliness, and the inability to connect in a way that feels fulfilling can contribute to feelings of hopelessness and despair.

Autistic and ADHD individuals learn early that they must suppress their natural behaviors to survive in a neurotypical world. Masking, which involves hiding stims, forcing eye contact, mimicking social norms, and suppressing emotional reactions, is exhausting and leads to chronic burnout. When burnout becomes unbearable and there is no safe place to unmask, suicidality often follows. Feeling like you can never truly be yourself without facing rejection is a slow erosion of self-worth. Many neurodivergent people grow up undiagnosed or misdiagnosed, leading to a profound sense of confusion and alienation. Without understanding their neurotype, many feel like they are simply “bad at life” or fundamentally broken. Lack of diagnosis also means a lack of accommodations, making daily life far harder than it needs to be. Even those who do receive a diagnosis often find that services, therapies, and mental health supports are inaccessible, unaffirming, or outright harmful. Many therapists are unfamiliar with neurodivergent experiences, and many suicide prevention hotlines and crisis services lack the training to properly assist autistic or ADHD callers.

Neurodivergent individuals, especially those who are multiply marginalized, face higher rates of trauma, abuse, and medical mistreatment. Many autistic and ADHD individuals experience childhood trauma, including emotional invalidation, neglect, and abuse. Medical gaslighting is common, where doctors dismiss symptoms or blame everything on anxiety. Employment and financial instability often create chronic stress and insecurity, while discrimination and violence, especially for BIPOC, trans, and disabled neurodivergent individuals, further compound the challenges. Living in a world that is hostile to your existence takes a toll. Trauma responses, such as shutdowns, dissociation, and self-harm, are often misunderstood by professionals, leaving neurodivergent individuals with nowhere to turn when in crisis.

Society only values neurodivergent people when they are useful—when they are the genius coder, the creative innovator, or the quirky but brilliant employee. If they struggle, they are seen as burdens. If they thrive, they are expected to maintain that pace indefinitely. This pressure to either excel or disappear leads many neurodivergent people to feel like they have no place in society unless they can prove their worth—an impossible expectation that fuels despair.

Suicide prevention must include neurodivergent perspectives. Suicide hotlines, crisis centers, and mental health professionals must be trained in neurodivergent communication styles and needs. Autistic individuals may struggle to articulate distress in ways neurotypicals expect, and ADHD individuals may be impulsively suicidal but need help grounding themselves. Neurodivergent-specific crisis care is essential. For many, unmasking is a privilege they cannot afford. Workplaces, schools, and relationships must shift toward inclusion so autistic and ADHD people are not forced to suppress their identity just to survive. Accessible mental health care is a right, not a luxury. Therapists need training in neurodivergence, not just in anxiety and depression. Support groups, peer-led spaces, and neurodivergent-affirming therapy must be widely available.

Isolation is deadly. Finding people who understand, respect, and uplift neurodivergent individuals can be life-saving. Neurodivergent people deserve friendships, relationships, and communities that value them as they are. We are not burdens. We are not broken. We deserve to exist, to thrive, and to be supported. If you are struggling, know this: you are not alone. There are people who will understand, who will listen, who will see you—not as a project to be fixed, but as someone worthy of love and care, exactly as you are. You deserve to be here.

This article is dedicated to every neurodivergent person who has felt unseen, unheard, or unworthy of life. You are valued. You are loved. Please stay.