Cork Man Danny Buckley: How Loss, ADHD and Purpose Led to the Launch of ADHD Now

When you hear Danny Buckley’s story, you might think it is one of heartbreak. And of course it is.

Danny lost his wife Simone to complications arising from Type 1 diabetes when she was just 33 years old, only weeks after they married, leaving him to grieve the woman he loved and to raise their young son Joey alone. That loss changed everything.

But while Danny’s life has been deeply influenced by grief, it is also a story of inspiration and hope. It shows just what can happen when a person is forced to dig deep and rebuild their life from the inside out. In his thirties, in the aftermath of devastating loss and his ADHD diagnosis that came far later than it should have, Danny began discovering who he really was for the first time. He learned to understand himself, to like himself and ultimately to thrive.

It is a story about becoming a better father, a better son, and a better and happier person, and about turning pain into purpose.  Danny is determined that  others won’t have to struggle or leave the country in search of answers, like he had to. His frustration at not being able to access services in Ireland became fuel. That determination led to the launch of ADHD Now, a service providing adult and child ADHD assessments, treatments, including psychiatry and therapy.  

Before his diagnosis, Danny says life was full of challenges . “I used to suffer very badly with fear, anxiety and stress. I was in fight-or-flight mode all the time,” he says. If there was an event coming up, everything else in his life faded away. “I’d be totally focused on that one thing. I’d be nervous and stressed, or overly excited. I had no emotional control.” 

He describes himself as having been restless and deeply unhappy in his environment. “I didn’t know who I was,” he admits. For years, his wife Simone told him she believed he had ADHD. “She knew it because she was living with me. She could see I couldn’t rest, that I was hyperfocused, that I was either up or down.” 

Danny recalls his earliest encounters with ADHD:  “When we were growing up, ADHD was about the bold boy in the class. If your behaviour was out of order, that was the label. I did relatively well in school, so I thought it couldn’t be me.”

Still, he was never content. “I was always hopping from one thing to another. I couldn’t settle.”

Everything changed after Simone died. Six weeks after her passing, Danny was sitting in his mother’s house reading an article about a man going through an ADHD assessment. “I could identify with everything. I remember thinking, my God, maybe Simone was right.” At the time, he was overwhelmed by grief.

“I was riddled with anxiety. I was sad, depressed and mourning. I knew something had to give, because otherwise Joey, who was only eight years old at the time, was going to have a terrible life. I couldn’t let that happen.”

Danny started searching for an assessment in Ireland. “I contacted every private clinic in the country. Nobody even got back to me with an acknowledgement email.” For someone with ADHD, the waiting was unbearable. “When you’re hyperfocused, you want answers now.” Eventually he travelled to the UK for a private assessment. “Going through the assessment was huge for me. It was like a complete NCT of Daniel.”

What surprised him most was not the diagnosis itself, but the emotional awareness that came with it. “I had zero emotional awareness. I couldn’t recognise when I was emotionally too high or too low.” He had believed his constant stress and intense reactions were normal. “I thought it was normal to live like that all your life.”

Through the assessment and therapy, he began learning about emotions for the first time. “I learned to acknowledge what I was feeling, whether it was fear, anxiety, sadness or grief. Once you can name it, you can deal with it.”

Danny chose not to go down the medication route, instead committing to weekly therapy. “I still go every week. I’d never give it up. Therapy isn’t just for when you’re in crisis. It’s for people who want to thrive.”

He learned that being emotional was not a weakness. “I realised I’m hyper, I’m easily distracted, and I’m very emotional. That was massive for me. Life is about emotions.”

Regulation, he explains, doesn’t mean suppressing feelings. “It’s okay to be super excited or super low. Now I can regulate myself.” If a difficult anniversary or event is approaching, he pauses. “I ask myself, what is this emotion? If it’s sadness or grief, I acknowledge it. I know that it’s natural and that it will pass.” Just as importantly, he started opening up. “I talk to friends now. I show vulnerability. I don’t try to cover things up any more.”

That change has had the biggest impact on his role as a father. “Joey has had a massive loss with the passing of his mother. That will be with him for the rest of his life.”

Danny believes his diagnosis, and what he chose to do with it, has transformed him as a parent. “It’s one thing to get a diagnosis. It’s another thing understanding it, educating yourself and putting the work in.” Being emotionally available now matters more than ever. “Joey doesn’t have a mother, so I need to be there for him emotionally.”

Their home is a place where feelings are allowed. “We can sit down and cry together about something, or be so excited about something. I don’t pretend any more, so he doesn’t have to either.”

Danny recalls a moment that stays with him. “A few weeks ago he said, ‘Dad, we have such a good life, don’t we?’ I nearly cried hearing that. That’s the magic of life to me.”

When asked what Simone would think if she could see him now, Danny responds: “She’d be proud. She believed in me.” The couple were together for 15 years and married only weeks before Simone’s death, fulfilling her dying wish. “Covid delayed everything, and then she wanted to wait until she was better. In the end, getting married was what she wanted most.”

Simone, he says, had an extraordinary acceptance of her own passing. “She was heartbroken, of course, but she focused on how she could help me and Joey.” She told him she wanted him to be happy and to welcome people into his life. “She didn’t want me to think my life was over.” That acceptance allowed Danny to move forward without guilt when he later met his partner Melanie.

“If Simone hadn’t said that to me, I’d probably still be on my own. But she told me not to shut the door on happiness, and I believe honouring that is what led me to Melanie, who has brought happiness back into my life.” He believes Simone pushed him towards his diagnosis too. “She did so much for me in the end.”

Danny grew up in a loving home, but he recognises the generational differences. “My dad was from an era where you were told everything is grand and to get on with things.” Now, Danny notices things in Joey that he would never have recognised before. Recently, he could see his son was struggling after school. “I sat him down and told him it was okay to be sad. Joey said they had been talking about mothers in class. We sat together in that sadness. I showed him it was okay to feel it. In our house now, we share emotions – the highs as well as the lows. Joey’s in boxing and doing really well. I tell him I’m proud of him. I give him confidence. I would never have been that person before.”

His parents, he says, have seen a huge change in him. One moment stands out. Sitting around the Christmas table, they asked him what the best thing that had happened to him that year was. Danny told them about a call from his mother, who has been diagnosed with early Alzheimer’s. “ She asked me to call over straight away and I was worried sick. She sat me down and said she’d worried about me my whole life, but she doesn’t have to worry any more. She said she was proud of how I now live my life and help others. But the most important thing she said was that I had given her peace. That was the greatest success of my year.”

When it comes to misconceptions about ADHD, Danny is careful to speak only from his own experience. “Getting a diagnosis is one thing, but what you do with it is what counts. A diagnosis won’t change anything unless you understand it and put the work in.”  The company I set up, ADHD Now, has to work as a business to grow, but the purpose is everything.”

He is passionate about moving away from labels. “That bold boy in the class isn’t bold. He might be emotionally deregulated. He might have anxiety, fear or trauma.” Understanding why a child behaves the way they do is key. “Then you can teach them how to behave differently.” Danny works closely with schools, providing reports and guidance. He believes early screening could spare children enormous pain later in life. “A lot of undiagnosed ADHD ends up with escapism and people do this through abusing alcohol, drugs, gambling – they’re ways of escaping thoughts and feelings you can’t cope with.”

He sees a strong link between ADHD and entrepreneurship. While around five percent of the general population have ADHD, that figure rises sharply among entrepreneurs. “I jump into things. If it works, it works quickly. If it doesn’t, I learn and move on.”

Alongside founding ADHD Now, Danny also owns the Old Mill Bakery, a long-established Cork business. He speaks about hyperfocus, delegation and learning to let go of control. “Before, control made me feel safe. Now I trust other people.”

Faith also plays a central role in Danny’s life. After Simone’s death, his anger with God eventually softened when his mother found a beautiful handwritten poem Simone had written. “It felt like a message.” Reading it helped him let go of that anger. “I know she built a relationship with God. I believe she’s safe.” He feels her presence still, particularly through Joey. “When I see him dancing and singing, I think of him being with her.” Even ADHD Now, he believes, wouldn’t exist without Simone. “She had more wisdom in her 33 years than many people have in a lifetime.”

For parents whose children have just been diagnosed, his message is hopeful. “Now you understand who your child is. The diagnosis is the map to a better, happier life.” For adults who wonder what the point of testing is at this stage, he is honest. “If I hadn’t taken action, I wouldn’t be where I am now.

“I’m proud of who I am and proud to say I have ADHD – my life is in a better place now for me and for Joey. ”

For more information see https://adhdnow.com/