My ADHD Made Me The Perfect Target: How Predators Spot Executive Function Weakness And Use It Against You

I was managing a $500 million book of business as a financial advisor when my therapist convinced me I was too unstable to trust my own memory.

Let that sink in for a second.

I was closing multi-million dollar deals, leading a sales team, passing every compliance audit. And a licensed psychologist was simultaneously telling me I couldn’t trust my own perception of reality.

The fucked up part? She was right about one thing.

My brain WAS broken. Just not in the way she claimed.

The Test Results That Became Her Playbook

September 2022. My therapist convinced me to get a neuropsychological evaluation because I was “having memory issues.”

The results came back: Executive function at 98th percentile for dysfunction. Working memory at 99th percentile for problems. But perceptual reasoning? 92nd percentile. Superior range.

Translation: My brain couldn’t organize evidence or track timelines. But it could spot patterns and sense danger with frightening accuracy.

Here’s the part that still makes my stomach turn: She filled out the informant report for that evaluation. She saw my exact cognitive weaknesses documented in clinical language. And then she used them like a fucking instruction manual.

“I couldn’t prove what was happening to me. But I could feel every single manipulation.”

That’s the thing about ADHD brains that predators study. We’re not broken. We’re just wired with specific, exploitable gaps. And if you know where those gaps are, you can drive a truck through them while we’re still trying to remember where we put the evidence.

Why ADHD Brains Are Predator Magnets

Here’s what I wish someone had told me before I lost $126,000 and two years of my life:

1. We can’t track evidence in real time

You know that feeling when someone tells you something happened, and you have this nagging sense that it didn’t go down that way, but you can’t actually reconstruct the timeline to prove it?

That’s executive dysfunction. And it’s a goldmine for gaslighters.

My therapist would reference conversations we “had” where I supposedly said things that sounded insane. When I’d question it, she’d get this concerned look. “Cody, we talked about this. You were really upset. Are you having memory issues again?”

I couldn’t prove we didn’t have that conversation. My working memory was in the 99th percentile for dysfunction. So I’d end up apologizing for things I was 80% sure I never said.

2. We struggle with object permanence for evidence

If it’s not in front of us, it doesn’t exist. That’s ADHD in one sentence.

I had texts, emails, voicemails. Hundreds of pieces of evidence. But I couldn’t organize them into a coherent timeline. They existed in scattered folders, different devices, random screenshots I’d taken and then forgotten about.

She knew this. The evaluation I paid for? She filled out the informant report. She saw my scores. She knew exactly how my brain failed to connect dots across time.

So when I’d try to confront her about something she’d said, she could just wait. Three days later, I’d have moved on to the next crisis she’d manufactured. The evidence was there. I just couldn’t access it systematically.

3. Our emotional dysregulation looks like instability

The ADHD brain doesn’t regulate emotions the same way neurotypical brains do. We go from 0 to 100. We have trouble shifting between emotional states. When we’re upset, we’re UPSET.

This makes us look unstable to outside observers.

So when my therapist would do something that triggered my “this is wrong” alarm, I’d react with intensity. She’d remain calm, clinical, concerned. Then she’d document my “emotional lability” and “difficulty with emotional control” as evidence that I needed her help.

The evaluation confirmed it: Emotional Control subscale at 93rd percentile for difficulty.

She could push me to react, then use my reaction as proof I was the problem.

4. We chase dopamine into dangerous situations

ADHD brains are dopamine-seeking machines. We’ll do almost anything for novelty, intensity, or the feeling that we’re finally onto something real.

This makes us susceptible to love bombing, intermittent reinforcement, and manufactured crises.

For two years, my life was a series of emergencies that only she could help me navigate. Anonymous threats. Fake FINRA complaints. Supposedly dangerous people targeting both of us. Every week brought a new crisis that required my immediate attention and absolute trust in her guidance.

My ADHD brain was getting dopamine hits from the intensity. The drama felt like connection. The chaos felt like purpose.

I was addicted to my own exploitation.

5. We miss the forest while hyperfocusing on trees

ADHD comes with this gift/curse called hyperfocus. We can spend 8 hours researching something completely irrelevant while missing the obvious pattern right in front of us.

She’d give me tasks. Investigate this person. Look into that claim. Verify this detail. I’d spend hours on each one, building elaborate research files, cross referencing data.

Meanwhile, the pattern I couldn’t see: Every single “investigation” isolated me further. Every task pulled me away from people who might have helped me. Every hyperfocus session was time I wasn’t organizing the evidence of what she was actually doing.

6. We’re loyal to a fault once we trust someone

ADHD often comes with rejection sensitive dysphoria. We’re hyperaware of being abandoned or betrayed. So when we find someone who claims to accept us completely, who “gets” us when no one else does?

We’ll defend that person against our own instincts.

For months, friends told me something was wrong. My body was screaming at me. But she’d spent five years as my therapist. She knew everything about me. She’d “saved my life” when I was struggling with addiction.

How could I doubt her?

The ADHD brain’s loyalty wiring overrode every red flag my perceptual reasoning was picking up.

Why This Makes You Dangerous To Them

Here’s the part predators don’t advertise: ADHD brains are only easy targets during the exploitation phase.

Once we figure out what happened? We become absolutely fucking relentless.

Remember that superior perceptual reasoning? The pattern recognition that operates at the 92nd percentile? That doesn’t go away. It just takes us longer to organize what we’re seeing into actionable proof.

But when we do...

I have hundreds of pages of evidence now. Every text. Every email. Every financial transaction. Every anonymous threat cross referenced with her documented whereabouts. The evaluation she filled out documenting my executive dysfunction. The contracts she had me sign. The witnesses who saw pieces of it.

My brain couldn’t organize it in real time. But given enough time and the right systems, I built an airtight case.

That’s what predators don’t understand about ADHD brains. We’re not stupid. We’re not actually unstable. We’re just processing information differently, on a different timeline.

They’re counting on us giving up before we connect the dots.

They’re counting on our executive dysfunction preventing us from ever assembling the evidence.

They’re wrong.

The Tactical Part

If you have ADHD and something feels wrong in a relationship but you can’t prove it:

Start voice recording conversations (check your state’s laws first). You don’t need to organize evidence in real time if you capture it completely.

Screenshot everything immediately. Don’t rely on your ability to find it later. Create a folder on your phone called “Evidence” and throw it all in there. Organization can come later.

Tell someone outside the situation. Doesn’t matter if you can’t explain it coherently. Just say “I think something is wrong and I need you to remember I said this.” Predators count on ADHD isolation. Create witnesses.

Trust your perceptual reasoning over your memory. If your gut says something is wrong, it probably is. Your ADHD brain is better at pattern recognition than conscious recall. Believe the feeling even when you can’t prove it yet.

Find one person who understands ADHD to help you organize evidence. You don’t need to do it alone. Your executive dysfunction is real. Get support for the parts your brain can’t handle.

Document the gaslighting specifically. When someone tells you something happened that you don’t remember, write it down with a timestamp. “She says we discussed X on Y date. I have no memory of this.” The pattern will emerge.

The Thing I Wish I’d Known

Your ADHD doesn’t make you broken. It makes you different. But different creates specific vulnerabilities that predators study like a fucking PhD dissertation.

They’re not smarter than you. They’re just playing a game you didn’t know existed, using rules you didn’t know applied to you.

The gap between what your brain can perceive and what it can prove in real time? That gap is where they live.

But here’s what they miss: ADHD brains don’t quit. We pivot. We obsess. We hyperfocus. And when we finally put the pieces together, we come back with receipts they forgot existed.

I couldn’t organize the evidence while it was happening.

But I organized it eventually.

And now she’s being sued for every dollar she took, with a huge case file backing it up.

The ADHD brain that made me an easy target? It’s the same brain that made me impossible to permanently silence.

Your neurodivergence isn’t the problem. It’s the weapon they didn’t see coming.

—Cody Taymore

Kill The Silence

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Cody Taymore writes Kill the Silence, a Substack exposing predatory behavior and supporting trauma survivors. This article contains documented facts from ongoing litigation. Not legal advice. Not therapy. Just receipts.