Michael Phelps’ journey with ADHD and suicide prevention

Trigger warning: Mention of suicidal ideation

With 28 medals - 23 of them gold - Michael Phelps is the most decorated Olympian in history.

For years, the world saw him as unstoppable: a superhuman in the pool who shattered world records with ease.

But behind that image of dominance was a very different reality.

After every Olympics, Phelps says he fell into depression. In 2014, at the height of his fame, he admitted: “I didn’t want to be alive anymore. I remember looking suicide in the eye. That was my all-time low.”

It’s a reminder that mental health struggles don’t discriminate. Even against people at the very top of their field.

ADHD, pressure, and the silence around mental health

Phelps was diagnosed with ADHD at age 9.

Swimming quickly became his escape: a place to pour restless energy and find focus. But success in the pool didn’t erase the challenges of being neurodivergent.

As Phelps explained later, he became skilled at compartmentalising — pushing away his emotions and refusing to deal with them. That strategy worked for winning medals, but it took a toll. The pressure, isolation, and constant expectation to perform left him battling depression and anxiety for years.

His story highlights a crucial point: neurodivergent people - those with ADHD, autism, and other conditions - face higher risks of mental health struggles, including suicidal thoughts.

And yet, mainstream suicide prevention conversations rarely address their experiences.

Why suicide prevention must include neurodivergent people

Research shows autistic people are up to nine times more likely to attempt suicide than non-autistic people.

For ADHD, studies consistently point to higher rates of depression, self-harm, and suicidality.

But these risks aren’t “caused” by neurodivergence itself. They’re linked to stigma, bullying, social isolation, and a lack of inclusive mental health care.

When neurodivergent children are told they're “too much”, when adults are denied workplace accommodations, when therapy isn’t tailored to their needs - those systemic barriers deepen vulnerability.

That’s why Phelps’ openness matters.

His story puts a global spotlight on something millions of neurodivergent people know intimately: that silence can be deadly, and that asking for help is often the hardest but most life-saving step.

Finding strength in vulnerability

What saved Phelps wasn’t more medals.

It was therapy. It was admitting he couldn’t do it alone.

“At first, I was terrified,” he recalled of his first day in treatment. “But once I started talking about my feelings, life became easier. I kept asking myself why I didn’t do this 10 years ago.”

Today, through the Michael Phelps Foundation, he advocates for mental health, water safety, and suicide prevention. He partners with organisations to expand access to therapy and speaks openly about his own journey.

“I am extremely thankful I did not take my life,” he said. “I want others to know - it’s okay to not be okay.”

A call to build better systems

Michael Phelps’ story is powerful. But it also raises a question: why should it take an Olympian’s voice for society to take suicide prevention seriously?

If even the most celebrated athlete in the world struggled to find support, imagine the barriers faced by young disabled and neurodivergent people who are not heard, not represented, and not resourced.

On World Suicide Prevention Day, it’s time to move beyond awareness and towards action.

Suicide prevention must include neurodivergent voices. It must address access to affordable therapy, culturally relevant care, and systems that don’t leave people to “self-medicate” or suffer in silence.

If you or someone you know is struggling, please reach out. You are not alone.