Blinded by Blindness: Recognizing Neurodivergence in Blind Children

Undiagnosed ADHD in Blind Children: The Invisible Disability Overlooked

I remember what it was like being in second grade with undiagnosed ADHD. My parents, teachers, and mentors were blinded by my blindness. They couldn’t see the reasons I behaved the way I did. 

“Stop flapping your hands!”

“Why won’t you do your homework?” 

“You need to be more organized.” 

“Why did you run through the hallway without your cane?” 

None of these questions are unreasonable on their own. But when you hear them all together, stacked over years, they start to reveal something deeper. A different disability. A different trait. 

Neurodivergence. 

I was diagnosed with ADHD at 24. Suddenly, so much made sense. 

When Stimming in Blind Children Is Misread as ‘Blindisms’

It’s easy to miss neurodivergence in blind children. One reason is that experts have developed ways to explain away some of the most obvious traits, starting with stimming. At some point, researchers created a category of behaviors called “blindisms.” These include hand flapping, rocking, echolalia, eye-poking, foot tapping, and more. 

Some of these behaviors do have reasonable, blindness-related explanations. For example, Dr. Elaine McHugh notes that rocking is common in congenitally blind infants whose movement is restricted—either by their disability or by other medical issues. But that’s just one factor, not the whole picture. I doubt she would argue otherwise.  

But many “blindisms” often overlap with what is referred to as “stimming.” Stimming is when people with ADHD and/or autism rock, twitch their fingers, hum, rub their feet together, and other related behaviors. We must ask how many of these behaviors in blind children are related to neurodivergence rather than just blindness.  

If these are blindisms only, then why does ADHD occur at twice the rate in the blind community compared to the sighted? Why are blind people up to 30 times more likely to be autistic? Is it a misdiagnosis? Neurological overlap? A research gap? A social one? 

One study suggests that blind children are overdiagnosed with ADHD because professionals are too quick to recommend medication and lack the proper tools for accurate diagnosis. Many standard ADHD assessments rely heavily on visuals, which creates a fundamental mismatch for blind children. 

There’s truth to that critique...but the authors overlook an equally important possibility: what if ADHD really does occur at a higher rate among those born blind? What if we’re not overdiagnosing, but underrecognizing? 

ADHD and Autism in Blind Children: Why It’s More Common Than You Think

When it comes to autism, the data is even harder to ignore. One review found that “ASD was one of the most common additional impairments” among blind children, present in 38% of the overall group. The rates were even higher in specific conditions: 70% in children with optic nerve hypoplasia (ONH), 58% with retinopathy of prematurity (ROP), 44% with microphthalmia or anophthalmia, and 36% with Leber congenital amaurosis (LCA).

Another large-scale study found that blindness itself may be directly connected to autism: about half of the 859 children who were blind from an early age were also autistic. The rates were even higher—between 55 and 74 percent—among children with total congenital blindness.

And it’s not just diagnostic numbers...it’s behavioral overlap. Blind children often score higher than their sighted peers on verbal working memory tests, which is typically a challenge for autistic children. But they also share many social and communication traits with autistic peers: echolalia, unusual or idiosyncratic questions, and a strong tendency to relate to the world through personal experiences.

As an adult diagnosed with ADHD, I can now see patterns in my childhood that pointed not only toward my diagnosis, but in some cases, possible autism. 

I had a highly restricted diet. There was nothing my parents could do to get me to eat more. When they tried to force me to stay at the table until I finished my plate, I slept there. When my dad refused to provide alternative meals, I simply didn’t eat—for four days. 

I was constantly fidgeting. I carried spoons, brushes, spatulas, and even empty water bottles around the house. I would pace in my room for hours at a time. 

In middle and high school, I always started strong. I’d finish all my assignments for the first month or so, but then my momentum would collapse. By the end of the first semester, I’d usually have Bs in most classes. The second semester was always a nightmare. I stopped turning things in. The backlog would grow until catching up felt impossible. Before the year ended, I was failing everything. 

Then, in a burst of last-minute panic and hyperfocus, I’d begin again. I stayed up all night for days, working through every assignment I could. I started during school hours, kept going the moment I got home, and didn’t stop until sunrise. 

And for years, that strategy worked. I got a C in world history... but scored all but one question correctly on a 200-question final exam. 

But eventually, the crash came. I couldn’t pull my chemistry grade up from a 13 to passing. The best I could manage was a 65. 

Sensory Overload or Hearing Sensitivity? Understanding Neurodivergence in Blind Kids

I felt confused. Why was I so lazy? Why couldn’t I just do the work? That’s what everyone told me—just do it.