The Truth About Why Your ‘ADHD’ Might Actually Be Unhealed Trauma (And Why Nobody’s Talking About It)

I sat in that psychologist’s office for hours, taking test after test. The fidgeting. The inability to focus. The way my mind would race from one thing to another. Classic ADHD, right?

Then I read my evaluation report. One line stopped me cold: “Given Cody’s history of trauma, it seems entirely possible that the cause of his difficulties with inattention, hyperactivity, and impulsivity could be attributed to a reaction to experiencing trauma.”

They diagnosed me with ADHD anyway.

That’s when I realized: We have a massive problem in how we’re diagnosing and treating attention issues. And if you’re one of the millions of adults struggling with focus, hyperactivity, and executive dysfunction, you need to hear this.

My Story: When “ADHD” Was Actually Complex PTSD

Let me paint you a picture of my childhood. My father had a mental health crisis when I was 12. We got evicted. I was parentified — suddenly responsible for my parents’ wellbeing at an age when I should have been worried about homework.

“He reported that he was parentified at the time and still feels responsible for his parents’ well-being.”

Then there was the sexual abuse. Five to six years of it, from a family member. By the time I reached adulthood, my symptoms were textbook “ADHD”:

• Couldn’t pay attention to details

• Had to look things over multiple times to avoid mistakes

• Difficulty listening when others spoke directly to me

• Easily distracted, often getting up and doing non-work tasks instead of work

• Trouble sustaining attention — worked in short bursts followed by periods of low productivity

• Significant difficulty with follow-through

• Avoided tasks requiring mental effort

• Fidgeted constantly, bit my nails, needed a fidget cube

• Always on the go — difficult to just sit and do nothing

• Blurted things out, interrupted others

• Difficulty waiting my turn

Every therapist I saw nodded knowingly. ADHD. Here’s some Adderall.

But here’s what they missed: These weren’t random brain misfirings. They were survival mechanisms.

The Science They Don’t Tell You

When I dug into the research, I discovered something that should be common knowledge but isn’t:

“In response to trauma, a child’s developing brain can become programmed to ‘look out’ for behaviour, activities or events that they perceive as threatening. This ‘hyper-vigilance’ can often mimic hyperactivity and distractibility associated with ADHD.”

Think about that for a second. When you grow up in chaos, your brain adapts. It becomes hypervigilant — constantly scanning for threats. That looks exactly like ADHD distractibility.

When you learn early that dissociating keeps you safe during abuse, your brain gets really good at checking out. That looks exactly like ADHD inattention. The research is clear: “What may appear as inattention and ‘daydreaming’ behaviour often seen in ADHD may actually be symptoms of dissociation or subconscious avoidance of trauma triggers.”

When you’re raised in an environment where you need to react instantly to survive, your nervous system stays primed for action. That looks exactly like ADHD hyperactivity and impulsivity.

The Diagnostic Trap

During my evaluation, they documented everything:

• My complicated family history with instability and previous abuse

• That I’d been diagnosed with complex PTSD by my current therapist

• That I was parentified as a child

• The years of sexual abuse

• That my father’s mental health crisis coincided with when my symptoms began

The evaluator even noted: “Specifically, he stated that his father struggled with his mental health and his family did not believe in seeking traditional mental health treatments (therapy, medication). As a result, his father reportedly had a mental health crisis when he was 12 years old and went on disability. His mother was not working and the family was eventually evicted from their home and went to live with his grandparents.”

They saw all of this. They wrote it down. They connected the dots between trauma and symptoms. Then they diagnosed me with ADHD anyway.

“Therefore, Cody’s patterns of deficits in attention and the presence of observed and reported symptoms of inattention are consistent with a diagnosis of Attention Deficit Hyperactivity Disorder, Combined Presentation.”

But here’s the kicker — they even acknowledged the uncertainty: “Should symptoms remediate with treatment, further assessment is recommended to determine continued presence of symptoms sufficient to maintain these diagnoses.”

Translation: If treating the trauma makes the “ADHD” go away, maybe it wasn’t ADHD.

Why This Matters More Than You Think

Here’s what happens when trauma gets misdiagnosed as ADHD:

1. The medication might make things worse. Research shows that “if trauma goes undiagnosed and a child is treated with stimulant medication for ADHD, in some cases the medication can increase trauma-related anxiety, making children more hypervigilant and on edge.”

This isn’t just about children. I’m 30 years old, and stimulants ramped up my anxiety to unbearable levels. My trauma-based hypervigilance went into overdrive. But instead of recognizing this as a sign we were treating the wrong thing, doctors just tried different medications.

2. The real problem never gets addressed. The research is clear: “Unless they get treatment that addresses the trauma with something like trauma-focused cognitive behavioral therapy (TF-CBT), their symptoms aren’t likely to improve.”

I spent years in therapy for ADHD. Cognitive behavioral therapy for executive dysfunction. Behavioral modifications. Time management strategies. None of it addressed the actual issue — my nervous system was still protecting me from threats that ended decades ago.

“ADHD treatment is not going to help them process the trauma. It won’t help with their relationships with others, how they see the world, how they view themselves or their future.”

3. You internalize shame about being “broken.” When you’re told your brain is defective rather than traumatized, it becomes about who you are rather than what happened to you. I spent years believing I was fundamentally flawed, that my inability to function “normally” was a character defect.

The Overlap Nobody Talks About

Let me show you something that blew my mind. Here’s what the research says about symptom overlap:

Symptoms of ADHD:

• Difficulty focusing

• Inattentiveness

• Hyperactivity

• Impulsivity

• Difficulties with tasks, organization, and managing emotions

Symptoms of trauma/PTSD:

• “Acting out” behaviors that look like impulsivity

• Difficulty focusing due to intrusive thoughts

• Hypervigilance that mimics hyperactivity

• Dissociation that appears as inattention

• Emotional dysregulation

The research confirms: “The effects of trauma on a child can permeate well into adulthood. Since symptoms can overlap, it may seem there is a link between the two.”

But here’s the crucial difference that gets missed: “Major differences include people with PTSD experiencing negative, intrusive thoughts or avoiding things or events that remind them of a particular trauma.”

How to Know If This Is You

After years of being misdiagnosed, here are the questions I wish someone had asked me:

Did your symptoms start after a specific age or traumatic event? Mine ramped up after age 12 — exactly when my father had his crisis and our family fell apart.

Do your symptoms get worse when you’re triggered or stressed? ADHD is consistent. Trauma responses fluctuate. My “ADHD” would mysteriously improve when I felt safe and spiral when I didn’t.

Is your “inability to focus” actually hypervigilance? I wasn’t distracted by shiny objects. I was scanning for danger. There’s a difference.

Is your “hyperactivity” actually a nervous system that never learned it was safe to rest? That constant need to move, to be “on the go” — that was my body trying to stay ready to flee.

Do you “space out” when reminded of past trauma? What looked like inattention was actually dissociation — a protective mechanism I learned during abuse.

“The difference is that in PTSD cases, these symptoms are triggered by a traumatic experience, which isn’t a cause of ADHD.”

The Professional Blind Spot

Here’s what makes me angry: This isn’t a knowledge problem. It’s a practice problem.

The research acknowledges: “If a child is having trouble in school, even a well-intentioned clinician may run down a quick list of the symptoms and conclude that the issues are due to undiagnosed ADHD. And, without a more thorough evaluation, that diagnosis can seem like the simplest explanation.”

My evaluator spent hours with me. They documented my entire trauma history. They even wrote that trauma could explain my symptoms. But the pull of the easy diagnosis was too strong.

“ADHD screening tools are great for identifying children who need support. But if we rely on ADHD checklists alone, without looking at the big picture, it may lead to misdiagnosis.”

What Actually Helps (Spoiler: It’s Not More Stimulants)

If your “ADHD” is actually unresolved trauma, here’s what the research says you really need:

Trauma-Focused Therapy: “Processing the trauma with professional help is an essential treatment for those with PTSD.”

Not general CBT, but specific approaches like:

• Trauma-Focused Cognitive Behavioral Therapy (TF-CBT)

• EMDR (Eye Movement Desensitization and Reprocessing)

• Brainspotting

• Somatic therapies that help regulate your nervous system

• Internal Family Systems (IFS)

• Polyvagal theory/safe and sound protocol

My evaluation specifically recommended: “It is recommended that Cody receive treatment modalities specific to addressing trauma as part of or supplemental to traditional psychotherapy including certain cognitive behavioral therapies (e.g., exposure, DBT, systematic desensitization), EMDR, brainspotting, and/or polyvagal theory/safe and sound protocol.”

Nervous System Regulation: Your body needs to learn it’s safe now. This isn’t about thinking differently — it’s about teaching your nervous system that the danger has passed.

The Right Diagnosis: Complex PTSD is a real condition with specific treatment protocols. But you can’t treat what you don’t acknowledge.

The Cost of Getting It Wrong

I lost years of my life and thousands of dollars chasing an ADHD diagnosis that never quite fit. The medications didn’t really help. The productivity hacks felt like band-aids on a gunshot wound.

But the real cost went deeper. Every failed medication trial reinforced that I was broken. Every unsuccessful strategy proved I was hopeless. I nearly gave up entirely, believing that if even medication couldn’t fix me, nothing could.

The research warns about this exact scenario: “If a school is seeing a child through a behavior lens, they’re going to be more likely to remove them from the class, to suspend them, even to call 911. And again, that is not the supportive environment that a child who has experienced trauma needs to heal.”

Replace “school” with “workplace” or “relationships,” and you have my adult life. Seen as difficult, defective, disordered — never as traumatized.

Your Brain Isn’t Broken

If you’re reading this and something clicks — if you’ve always felt like your ADHD diagnosis was missing something — trust that instinct.

Studies show that “childhood trauma may predict some symptoms of ADHD” and that “experiencing trauma may lead to an increase in ADHD symptoms such as inattention, hyperactivity, and impulsivity.”

But here’s what they don’t emphasize enough: If trauma can cause these symptoms, then healing trauma can resolve them.

“Trauma will exacerbate ADHD symptoms, but ADHD may have many other causes, too, such as genetics.”

Find a trauma-informed therapist. Ask about Complex PTSD. Consider that your symptoms might not be a disorder but a normal response to abnormal circumstances.

Your inability to focus might not be a dopamine problem. It might be a nervous system that’s still protecting you from dangers that no longer exist.

Your fidgeting might not be hyperactivity. It might be a body trying to discharge decades of survival energy.

Your executive dysfunction might not be a prefrontal cortex issue. It might be a brain that learned early that planning for the future was pointless when survival was uncertain.

The Path Forward

I’m not saying ADHD isn’t real. It absolutely is. “ADHD is a neurobiological developmental disorder, meaning it’s related to the brain, runs in families, and impacts a child’s development and ability to learn.”

But I am saying that for many of us — especially those with trauma histories — what looks like ADHD might be something else entirely.

Something treatable. Something that makes perfect sense. Something that doesn’t require a lifetime of medication but rather an understanding of how brilliantly our brains adapted to keep us alive.

The research supports this: “If a child or an adult is experiencing ADHD symptoms, it is important to seek professional help. Both ADHD and PTSD have overlapping symptoms, but trauma may not necessarily cause ADHD. A personalized treatment plan can help a person or their child navigate symptoms of ADHD and, if necessary, the effects of trauma.”

If one overworked therapist with a checklist gave you an ADHD diagnosis in 20 minutes without asking about your childhood, you deserve a second opinion.

If stimulants make you more anxious rather than focused, that’s information.

If your symptoms started after trauma, that’s not a coincidence.

“Understanding the root cause of trauma, and communicating about the event, can help understand as to whether a person’s behavior relates to ADHD or trauma.”

Your brain kept you alive. Now it might be time to gently teach it that you’re safe.

Because the truth is, you were never broken. You were surviving. And there’s treatment for that.

— Cody Taymore

Kill The Silence

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