This blog post has been written by Sam Colson, an AuDHD (autistic and ADHD) person, drawing on lived experience.

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A few years ago, I applied for a job at a university.

On paper, it was a strong fit. I am autistic and have ADHD, and I work best when I can think deeply, plan thoroughly and design with accessibility in mind. The role also aligned with my experience in education and communications, so it seemed like a natural next career move for me.

So, I submitted the application and completed the interview task...

When it came to the feedback stage though, I was unfortunately unsuccessful. I was told my application was great. They especially liked my reference to alt text and accessibility. They said it was clear I had varied experience in the education sector. My passion for supporting students shone through.

In other words, when I was given space to think and respond in writing, I demonstrated the skills they were looking for.

The difficulty came later.

The reasonable adjustment

The university described themselves as a Disability Confident employer. So, before the interview, I felt more confident when requesting a reasonable adjustment.

I asked if I could receive the interview questions in advance. For autistic candidates, this is a common adjustment. It reduces cognitive overload and it allows us to demonstrate our thinking without the added strain of rapid recall under pressure.

They responded: "If you arrive 10 minutes early, we will provide you with a printout of the questions and some time to read through them. You can also take the questions into the interview with you.

This role requires being able to think on your feet to solve problems and communicate with colleagues, students and stakeholders. Therefore, we want you to answer the questions during the interview rather than prepare in advance."

On the surface, this sounded accommodating. In practice, it was not.

Ten minutes is not the same as advance notice

When I arrived, I was given the questions but at the same time I was also expected to engage in small talk with a member of the team downstairs.

So, I was trying to read, process, prioritise examples and regulate the usual anxiety that comes with interviews, while simultaneously being socially 'on'.

And let's face it: ten minutes is not ten quiet minutes when you are masking.

My autism means I process deeply and contextually. My ADHD means my thoughts branch quickly. When I read a question, I do not think of one example. I think of multiple. I begin ranking them. Which is strongest? Which shows strategy? Which might be better saved for a later question?

That internal processing takes space and ten minutes under social pressure is not space.

Now don’t get me wrong, I believe the adjustment was well intentioned. But it did not remove the cognitive load. It compressed it and made it worse. And that came with a mental health cost.

Thinking on your feet

The justification given was that the role 'required someone who could think on their feet'.

Thinking on your feet in a job means solving problems with context. It means asking clarifying questions. It means collaborating. It means drawing on experience in real time with access to information. It means not having the additional anxiety lots of people face in job interviews.

Thinking on your feet in an interview means retrieving polished examples under scrutiny, often without context, while being evaluated for every pause and inflection.

Those are not the same skill.

In my day-to-day work, my autism and ADHD are an asset. They allow me to think laterally and anticipate problems before they arise. I build contingency plans instinctively. I reflect as I go. The word that often comes up about my work is 'thorough'.

You cannot be thorough in a job interview.

The format does not allow for it.

“Your answers didn’t have enough detail.”

After the interview, I received feedback.

They reiterated that my application and task were strong. They said my passion shone through. They had no doubt I would be successful in the field.

But they felt some of my answers did not provide enough detail. I was encouraged to prepare more detailed examples that linked back to the required skills.

This is the part that lingers.

Because I am often told the opposite. That my answers are too broad. That I provide too much context. That I reflect too much.

Autism means I do not instinctively strip out nuance. ADHD means my brain generates connections rapidly. In a calm environment, that leads to layered thinking. In a pressured interview room, it can lead to overediting myself in real time.

When you are trying not to be too broad, not to overshare, not to go off track, while also processing multiple example pathways in your head, something gives.

Sometimes, detail drops out because your brain is overloaded.

That overload is invisible but can make or break an otherwise great application process.

The mental health impact

One interview does not break you, but patterns matter.

When you consistently perform strongly in written applications and tasks, yet struggle in interview rooms, you start to internalise a message.

You are almost good enough.

You are capable, but not quite the right 'fit'.

You are passionate, but not polished enough.

Over time, that erodes confidence. It feeds imposter syndrome. It creates anxiety before interviews even begin.

Job searching is already a vulnerable period for mental health. Add masking, cognitive overload and the pressure to perform a narrower version of yourself, and the strain deepens.

Our brains are wonderful, but they can’t do everything. Getting overloaded doesn’t mean you are unfit for a role, or crack under pressure.

Interviews are not a reflection of who you are or how you work. They reflect you at your most overworked, which, if you are applying to a good organisation, is a version of you they should never need to see.

Capability versus format

The university was not malicious, and they were likely well intentioned.

They wanted to maintain fairness. They wanted to test spontaneous thinking. They offered what they believed was a compromise.

But intention does not erase impact. And sometimes, even institutions built on the pursuit of knowledge and progressive thinking, get it wrong.

If my application and task demonstrated capability, yet the interview format obscured it, that tells us something important.

Sometimes the issue is not the candidate.

Sometimes the format is too rigid to see them clearly.

A mentally healthier approach

Providing questions in advance does not lower standards, it allows candidates to demonstrate depth rather than speed. It shifts the assessment from recall under pressure to quality of thinking.

For neurodivergent candidates, small structural changes can significantly reduce anxiety and cognitive overload. That protects mental health and also allows strengths to surface.

My autism and ADHD are not deficits in the workplace. They are why I anticipate risks. Why I think systemically. Why I care about accessibility. Why my work is described as thorough.

Those strengths exist before the interview. They just do not always survive the format.

If we want workplaces that genuinely support mental health, we must examine not just who we hire, but how we decide who is good enough.