Policing with ADHD: How Justice Sensitivity Shaped My Journey

Introduction

My name is Carl Mumford and I was a serving police officer for fourteen years. You might not think the rigorous, disciplined world of policing would be a natural match for someone with ADHD, but for me, that could not be further from the truth.
 
However, until the combination of the COVID lockdown and a life-changing injury left me at rock bottom, I had no idea that I even had ADHD or that I would eventually leave the police force to focus my time and energy to campaign and advocate for people just like me. 

This is the story of how my drive for justice took me on a journey of understanding how ADHD has shaped my life.

Joining the force

I struggled with my mental health from a young age, and found school challenging, I only wanted to learn about things that interested me. Looking back, I can see how close the challenges I had with ADHD could potentially have ended up with me entering the school-to-prison pipeline.
 
Thankfully I found the police at the age of 18, and I now realise why that helped me. I have always had a keen sense of justice – something I would later find out is a characteristic of many with ADHD – and would willingly throw myself into dangerous situations by chasing suspects, protecting victims or stopping at nothing to solve a crime. 

Thriving as a police officer

I loved my job – every day was different, I was constantly being challenged, and I would get a real buzz from the reward of knowing I was making a difference. Somehow my brain always felt at its most calm when faced with the chaos of the role. The best way to describe it is like ‘The Matrix’. It’s almost as if when confronting danger, everything would become slow motion, and my thinking would become sharp and laser-focused. 
 
However, on my days off, my mood totally changed. I was restless and frustrated and would sometimes drink to excess. Unbeknownst to me, this was my ADHD brain desperately chasing dopamine. 

I was given the opportunity to join the Mounted Police, and despite never having ridden a horse before, I jumped at the chance. Riding across a field at 30 miles per hour was the best thing ever, even more so when chasing a suspect down the road. Can you imagine what that did for an ADHD brain? 

Unfortunately, this new-found exhilaration wouldn’t last. I fell off my horse and sustained a life-changing injury to my hip, requiring surgery. This all happened days before the country went into lockdown in March 2020. 

Reaching breaking point

In just two short weeks, I had gone from a fulfilling, physical, challenging daily life to being confined to my sofa – in pain, alone, bored, and desperately understimulated. 
For neurotypical people, rest and relaxation may be the best way to recover from injury or illness, but for an ADHD brain, inactivity is not conducive to wellbeing. 

With my diagnosis still some way off and my dopamine levels seriously depleted, I tried to find other ways to stimulate my brain. For me, this meant alcohol and co-codamol. This combination of drink and prescription drugs temporarily recreated the feeling I’d had before when riding a horse. In these moments, my thoughts became clearer, and I was able to mentally escape my situation. 

However, alcohol and opiates are not a long-term solution, and no doubt exacerbated my depression and anxiety. Issues with addiction are not uncommon in those with ADHD, but often these issues can go unnoticed or untreated.  

I also had issues with impulsive spending, often buying things I didn’t need, just to get that dopamine boost to help me regulate my feelings. When I was 21 years old, I got into a lot of debt, and now I truly understand why. 

The lightbulb moment

At my lowest ebb, my Mum suggested I speak to my uncle, as she recognised so many similarities in our experiences. After learning more about his life and his relationship with alcohol, the comparisons were uncanny.

I recognised that, although I had always had the confines of being in uniform to keep me on the straight and narrow, in so many other ways, my life mirrored his. I started to question what the common denominator was that influenced both our behaviours. 

It was then that, entirely by accident, I came across an article about ADHD on the police intranet, and suddenly things clicked into place. 

A new quest for justice

Armed with a diagnosis and a renewed sense of purpose, I was determined to help others avoid the struggles I had faced. That’s why I became a founder member of the national ADHD Alliance – an organisation set up to change how ADHD is supported in the workplace and within the criminal justice system.
 
Word soon spread, and we were approached more and more frequently by members of the police force who needed our help, for example, seeking an ADHD diagnosis, struggling with their mental health or needing support with a disciplinary process. 
Our reach soon spread beyond just the police. The Alliance started to grow and now covers all blue light staff. I found myself delivering presentations to hundreds of people at a time – all people who I could help by sharing my experiences. 

From spending the lockdown feeling totally despondent and like I had no purpose in life, suddenly my fire – and my hyperfocus - had been reignited.  

A change in career

I am now an instructor in police education. I work with criminal justice professionals to improve their understanding of neurodiversity and help them to put practices and procedures in place that better support neurodivergent individuals. I also work with companies such as Creased Puddle who do an amazing job of delivering neurodiversity training and offering coaching and support to organisations in the public and private sector.
 
My ADHD journey was an extremely challenging one, but I am proud I was able to come through the other side. Knowing I make a difference every day to someone with ADHD is hugely rewarding and I will continue to dedicate myself to ensuring people like me receive the understanding and support they deserve.