Dyslexia, mental health and comms: Reflections from my journey
By Amy McRitchie, Associate Director, Missive
This month we celebrated Dyslexia Awareness Week, and it’s prompted me to reflect on my own experience, one that’s shaped how I see myself, my work, and our industry.
For most of my life, I suspected I might be dyslexic. I voiced it more than once, but was always batted away because I “loved reading too much.” So I carried on, working harder, building a career in PR, and quietly wondering why certain things always felt more difficult for me than for others.
It wasn’t until well into my PR career that I finally received a diagnosis. And suddenly, it all clicked. That “ahhh… that explains a lot” moment reframed how I saw myself, my work, and even the industry around me.
But here’s the thing people don’t always talk about: diagnosis isn’t just clarity, it can also be destabilising. I went through a wild period of what’s commonly called “skill regression”. Where once you have the “label”, your challenges are exacerbated or seem worse. I noticed every mistake, every misplaced word, every slip in concentration.
Since then, I’ve had to work out new strategies. On most days, these help me not just manage but thrive. But times of high stress, anxiety and pressure can quickly exacerbate things, and I’ve noticed how strongly my mental health is tied to the “negative” traits of my neurodivergence. When I’m thriving, the creativity, lateral thinking and storytelling instincts shine through. When I’m struggling, the noise gets louder.
That link between neurodiversity and mental health is exactly why I believe we need to keep having open conversations in our industry. PR and comms runs on creativity, speed and constant delivery. This can be tough for neurodivergent people, but it also unlocks some of our greatest strengths.
Last month, I had the privilege of moderating the State of Us panel on neurodiversity and mental health in comms. Hearing such honest reflections reinforced that there is no one way to be neurodivergent, and no single “solution” to make workplaces better. The best environments are those that keep listening, experimenting and adapting.
Along the way, I’ve learned some practical ways to manage the impact of stress on my neurodivergence:
Know your stress signals early. For me, it’s when the typos multiply and tasks take longer than usual. Spotting it early helps me adjust before things spiral.
Break down the noise. Big projects can overwhelm, so I split them into micro-tasks and tackle them one at a time.
Protect recovery time. Dyslexia fatigue is real, so I carve out space for rest, whether that’s stepping away from my screen or recharging outside of work.
Voice it, don’t mask it. Being open with colleagues about when I need more time or a different format of feedback takes the pressure off and builds understanding.
Connect the dots. Remembering that mental health and neurodivergence are linked helps me focus on both. If I look after one, the other improves too.
For me, dyslexia is no longer something I question. It’s part of who I am and how I work. It brings challenges, but it also fuels creativity, resilience and empathy. And if sharing that journey helps even one other person feel seen in our industry, then it’s worth every word.
