Grateful for the steps taken — hopeful for the steps still to come.
As someone who was late-identified as both Autistic and ADHD, I wish this book had existed back when I was first trying to piece everything together. It would have helped me feel less alone in the confusion and more reassured that what I was experiencing was real, valid, and beginning to be understood — even within clinical spaces.
There’s something genuinely powerful in seeing a psychiatrist take AuDHD seriously and attempt to explain it as its own, complex neurotype. Dr Sadiq’s effort to raise awareness within the medical field is valuable, and his breakdown of co-occurrence, diagnostic challenges, and the call for better frameworks is a vital contribution. Books like this are steps toward systemic recognition, and for that, I’m grateful.
But… there’s also a sense that the book isn’t quite written for us — the people actually living as AuDHD. It still frames AuDHD as something to be “managed” rather than understood, something “treated” rather than embodied. It speaks about us, more than to us. The language isn’t always neuroaffirming, and at times it leans into generalisations and deficit-based language that many of us have spent years unlearning.
There’s little reflection of lived experience, community insight, or identity-affirming perspectives. And while the clinical explanations are useful, they sometimes miss the emotional and sensory nuances that define our day-to-day lives.
That said, this book is a start — and we need starts. We need professionals willing to engage, learn, and evolve. I appreciate Dr Sadiq’s work and intentions. I hope future editions or works will include voices from within the community to enrich the narrative with deeper empathy and connection.
This is a good resource for professionals, educators, or newly curious readers. But for those of us who are AuDHD, it may feel like a stepping stone — not the destination.