The Email Serial Killer

Still at Large, Still not replying

Mar 23, 2025

∙ Paid

I currently have 3700 unread emails across 7 accounts.

Most of them are innocent. Friendly. Polite. Possibly helpful.

To date, I’ve ignored them all with equal cold-blooded consistency.

Some people dream of Inbox Zero. I dream of faking my own death and starting a new life under a different name where no one ever says “just chasing up.” Because the truth is: when it comes to email, I’m a serial killer - it stops with me. I don’t reply. I don’t explain. I just vanish into the digital mist, leaving behind a trail of people talking to themselves.

I Can Handle Chaos – But Not a Calendar Link

Here’s what might seem the weirdest part: I can handle actual work. Big work. Last-minute, stressful, high-pressure work, I can sit for 18 hours straight and write reports. I’m good under pressure. I’m responsive. I can reply to tricky client emails, troubleshoot, clarify, sort things out, and seem like a fully functional adult.

But send me something boring like:

“Let me know what time suits.”
…and suddenly my soul leaves my body.

There’s no emotional pull. No urgency. No drama. No dopamine. Just admin. Flat, beige, soulless admin. And my ADHD brain refuses to engage.

My Brain Has a Folder Called “Not Today, Satan”- a phrase my grandmother would often say.

Every time I open my inbox, there’s one email I instantly decide to “come back to later.”

I won’t. I never do. That email is already dead to me.

But instead of deleting it, I keep it there like a little monument to my shame. A trophy of my victims. I re-read it five times. I think about replying. I write a draft in my head.
But do I reply?

Absolutely not.

I close the tab and make toast.

My Clients Get the Best of Me

If you’re a client, I will read your message. I will respond. I might even do so quickly. Why? Because it feels urgent. There’s emotion. There’s an outcome. There’s a person involved. The stakes are real.

But if you send me a calendar link, or ask me to confirm a date? My brain might want to throw it directly into the “deal with later” pile, which in ADHD terms means: never again, goodbye, enjoy your peaceful rest in the inbox graveyard - but I can use the reserves of fuel in my tank to respond as it’s linked to emotion and connection.

Every Email Is a Tiny Threat

Part of the issue is that opening the email isn’t the problem.

It’s what’s inside it.

Emails often contain tasks. Or decisions. Or worst of all—follow-up actions. My brain treats every new message like it might explode. Not literally, but mentally.
So instead of risking it, I pretend it doesn’t exist. Picking the one to open first feels like a bomb-defusal event, as if I get it wrong and there is fallout from the first one, then the others may tumble like dominoes.

However many casualties are in my box, despite the ghosting, I do still dwell on how I didn’t reply. It reminds me of how I wonder about actual serial killers and how they just go on knowing there are bodies in the wall. Out of sight but surely not out of mind.

And Then Comes the Guilt

Once I’ve left an email too long, I start avoiding it even harder. The guilt builds. I imagine the person is annoyed. I panic. Then I delay it more. And suddenly it’s been two weeks and now I can’t reply because I’d have to explain the delay and I can’t explain the delay because I’m too embarrassed and now the whole email thread has become emotionally haunted.

So I let it rot.

Like a true cyber criminal.

Things That Sometimes Help (But Not Always)

Timers: I’ll set 10 minutes and just try to open as many as I can. No replying, just facing the fear.
Honest replies: “Sorry for the delay. Here’s the info you needed.” Done.
Texting someone and asking them to tell me to reply. (Surprisingly effective.)
Templates: Pre-written responses to the kinds of admin tasks that regularly derail me. Minimal thinking required.

It’s Not You. It’s Literally My Brain.

If you’ve emailed me and I haven’t replied yet, please know: it’s not because I don’t care. It’s because my brain looked at your perfectly normal message and screamed,

“I can’t emotionally process that today!” and then blacked out.

So yes, I’m the serial email killer.

Still at large. Still not replying.

Still sitting on three “just checking in” emails I’ve read 12 times and never once answered.

I’ll get there eventually.

Or I’ll fake my own death and re-emerge under a new Gmail.

Either way – thank you for your patience.

Beyond Distraction

People often assume that avoiding tasks like replying to emails is about willpower, or simply being disorganised. In reality, there’s a neurobiological reason why those of us with ADHD often end up ignoring seemingly simple tasks—especially the ones that don’t feel particularly stimulating.

ADHD is fundamentally a condition that affects executive function—the set of mental skills that help with planning, prioritising, starting tasks, sustaining attention, and regulating emotions. These functions are largely governed by the prefrontal cortex, an area of the brain that operates less efficiently in people with ADHD.

A major part of the problem also lies in how the brain handles dopamine, a neurotransmitter that plays a key role in motivation, attention, and reward processing. ADHD brains tend to have lower baseline levels of dopamine, and they often struggle with regulating it properly. This affects our ability to start or stick with tasks unless they’re:

interesting,
novel,
emotionally engaging,
or urgent.

This is sometimes referred to as operating on an “interest-based” nervous system rather than an importance-based one. In other words, we may know a task is important (like replying to an admin email), but unless it feels immediately engaging or there’s some pressure behind it, the brain doesn’t initiate action. It’s not a matter of laziness—it’s a mismatch between what the brain recognises as motivating and what the outside world expects us to get on with.

This explains why someone with ADHD might be able to manage complex work tasks, lead meetings, or respond quickly to high-stakes emails—yet completely avoid replying to a simple message asking them to confirm a meeting time. If the task doesn’t light up the reward system in the brain, it can feel mentally and physically inaccessible, no matter how straightforward it is.

Remember you can care deeply and still struggle to hit “send.” That’s okay.

Paid subscribers can get a 10-step guide to tackling emails at the end of this article.

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