ADHD, Trauma & Self-Discovery: My Story of Reframing What It Means to Be Wired Differently.

Disclaimer

This blog is based on my lived experience and self-directed healing work, along with my own research. It is not medical advice. I am currently seeking professional evaluation and encourage others to consult a qualified healthcare provider for personalised care. This isn't a blog post of victimhood. It is simply sharing my journey to support you on yours!

Trigger Warning

This post contains references to domestic violence (DV), suicide, eating disorders, trauma and sexual assault (SA). Please read with care and only if you feel emotionally safe to do so.

For most of my life, I’ve sensed I was moving through the world on a different frequency. My mind was always alive, ideas sparking like fireflies at midnight, one thought leading into a constellation of others. Structure felt suffocating, mornings felt heavy, emotions moved through me like tidal waves.

I didn’t know it then, but these weren’t random quirks. They were patterns, consistent threads of a brain and nervous system wired differently.

When I was recently diagnosed with ADHD, my first thought was: Could this just be my C-PTSD showing up in disguise? After all, trauma and ADHD overlap in countless ways: difficulty concentrating, restlessness, emotional swings, sleep disruptions. And for years, I’d been told I was simply “too sensitive” or “overreacting.”

But here’s my truth: I’ve been this way since childhood. Always. And I know I’m not alone. Many adults are only now discovering ADHD later in life, after years of thinking their struggles were purely trauma-related. For many of us, nervous system dysregulation from C-PTSD can amplify ADHD traits, making it almost impossible to tell where trauma ends and neurodivergence begins. Both can co-exist, both are real, and both deserve recognition.

I used to believe ADHD was simply “all in the mind” just another expression of trauma. But as I looked deeper, I realised they are not the same thing. ADHD is its own distinct wiring, while trauma lives in the body, carried by the younger parts of us that still long for safety and support. These parts rise to the surface again and again through patterns that can trace all the way back to childhood, or even to the womb.

We don’t just carry our own experiences, either. Science shows that we are literally formed inside our grandmother’s womb, which means we inherit imprints and energy lines from generations before us. This intergenerational echo is part of why trauma can feel so deeply ingrained and why healing requires us to meet both the neurodivergence of ADHD and the embodied memory of trauma with compassion and understanding. I believe it's up to each individual on what they believe this actually is. But for me, its really obvious the similarities between all of this.

A diagnosis wasn’t about a label and wasn't high on my priority list. It was about language, finally understanding myself with compassion instead of criticism (I know this can be done without a label, but I was just curious to see). It’s about nurturing the little girl inside me who always felt different, helping her feel safe, seen, and celebrated at last.

The Signs From Childhood

Looking back, the signs were everywhere. They were woven into my earliest memories, little details that, at the time, just seemed like me being “difficult” or “too much.”

• Sensory overload: Socks were always itchy and drove me to tears. I hated “cold undies” and scratchy patches. What others brushed off as nothing could overwhelm my whole system. I often flat-out refused to wear undies to kinder because of the discomfort. One day it happened to be photo day, and later on the monkey bars I went upside down, not caring at all, though apparently everyone else did. To me, comfort was always non-negotiable, even when the world expected me to care about appearances.

• Nests under the bed: I created safe cocoons beneath my bed, a private place to regulate when the world felt too loud. Including a place to hide my knickers haha

• Noise sensitivity: My brother chewing beside me at the dinner table and dad thumping the table with his fist (usually in play or to get us to be quiet at the table), wasn’t just annoying, it was unbearable. The sound felt like it vibrated inside my body.

• Tantrums for attention: I wasn’t this way to be a pest, I was desperate. My little nervous system couldn’t regulate, and the only way I knew to reconnect was through outbursts. I needed heart to heart connection.

• “Bright but distracted”: Teachers said it like a curse and a compliment. I’d lose track of instructions but could spend hours lost in a book or sketch.

• Hyperfocus & forgetfulness: I’d dive deep into drawing or writing for hours, yet forget to brush my teeth or finish homework.

• Night owl wiring: My imagination came alive at night. Ideas arrived in floods. Mornings, by contrast, felt impossible, like walking through glue.

• Feeling different: From as early as I can remember, I knew I wasn’t like the others. It wasn’t arrogance, it was awareness. I felt tuned into a frequency no one else seemed to hear, and even as a child, that “differentness” carried both pain and quiet magic.

At the time, these behaviours looked like disobedience, moodiness, being shy or laziness. But now I understand them as apparently signs of ADHD-Inattentive traits (daydreaming, forgetfulness, being easily distracted) mixed with Hyperactive/Impulsive traits (emotional outbursts, sensory reactivity, bursts of hyperfocus).

And when I look back at photos of little me, trying to get away from people or being a show pony, eyes wide with curiosity, I can see it so clearly. That little girl wasn’t broken. She was simply wired differently. My journey now is about nurturing her, protecting her peace, and honouring the way she was always tuned to something beyond the ordinary.

The Landscape of My Empathy: Schema Results

Recently, I took a schema-therapy assessment. The scores felt like mirrors, reflecting patterns I’ve lived for years:

• Social Isolation (100%) → why I’ve always felt like an outsider. Not because I lacked worth, but because I was wired to see what most don’t.

• Self-Sacrifice (67%) & Emotional Deprivation (40%) → how my empathy became both gift and burden. I held space for others because I understood what it was to not have it.

• Vulnerability (17%) & Dependence (13%) → the trauma-etched parts of me, always in scan, always preparing.

• Entitlement (50%) & Insufficient Self-Control (29%) → the rebel, refusing to conform to systems that felt hollow.

• Punitiveness (25%) → the inner judge, punishing me for things I didn’t even know were not mine to carry.

  
  

These numbers don’t define me. But they illuminate the terrain of my experience, my gifts, and my wounds, how they intertwine. They show why I can walk into a space and sense what others miss. Why people confide in me. Why The Courage Code feels more than a mission, it feels like home.

ADHD, Trauma & Empathy

One of the strongest threads through both my schema results and my lived experience is empathy. For most of my life, I’ve been the one holding space, the listener, the comforter, the person others run to when they feel broken or overwhelmed, which I love to do. It feels like the essence of me.

But empathy, when shaped by trauma, isn’t always clean. Mine was born from absence, from growing up without always having someone to meet my own emotional needs. That kind of childhood wires you to scan the room, anticipate moods, and keep the peace. It can make you hyper-attuned, but also hyper-responsible.

Then, as I got older, those patterns were magnified by the wounds of domestic violence and sexual assault. Trauma sharpened my radar even further. It made me feel I had to read the room at all times, to sense danger before it arrived, to make myself smaller or softer to survive. My empathy became a shield and a trap: I could feel everything, but I often lost myself in the process.

This is where people-pleasing crept in. For years, I thought if I could keep everyone else safe, happy, and comfortable, maybe I would finally feel safe too. But all it did was erode me.

In friendships, it meant I over-gave. I was the one remembering birthdays, checking in, organising catch ups, holding space, yet when my storms hit, silence often echoed back. That reinforced my schemas of deprivation and isolation: You’re here for everyone, but no one is here for you. So I thought. I have gret friends and family, but just like in school, I was always scared to ask a question or reach out!

In relationships, my people-pleasing became a trap. I used to ignore red flags, stayed too long, adapted to others while suppressing myself. Even in abuse, my first instinct was self-blame: What did I do wrong? How can I fix this?

The weight of this pattern left me exhausted and invisible, loved for what I gave, not for who I was. That’s why now, protecting my peace isn’t optional. It’s sacred and important to my overall health.

ADHD, Trauma & Overlap: What Research Says

Research confirms what so many of us live: ADHD and trauma often overlap and intensify each other.

• Prevalence: ADHD affects 6–10% of children globally, with adult rates closer to 2.5%. Girls are underdiagnosed because they present as “dreamy” rather than disruptive. Many women only discover ADHD in adulthood.

• Overlap: Trauma symptoms (hypervigilance, emotional overwhelm, sleep disruption) mirror ADHD traits. Both can impair executive function, attention, and regulation.

• Co-occurrence: Studies show ADHD + trauma often co-exist, leading to more severe impairment if untreated.

• Why it matters: Treating one without the other often leaves gaps in healing. Trauma-informed, neurodivergent-aware care is essential.

  
  

Many of us are realising this late in life, that the “lazy” or “too much” labels were never the truth. We were wired differently, and trauma only magnified the struggles.

My Blueprint (Astrology, Human Design & Soul)

When I mapped the patterns of my wiring, everything began to make sense:

• Sagittarius Rising — restless, boundary-pushing, allergic to boxes.

• Capricorn Moon — masking queen: regal in public, raw in private.

• Scorpio Mars — intensity, focus, late-night flow.

• Pisces Jupiter — dreamer, translator of visions.

• Manifesting Generator (HD) — built to pivot, skip straight lines, create fast.

• Emotional Authority — decisions ride emotional waves.

• 5/1 Profile — investigator-teacher, turning depth into transmission.

• Left Angle Cross of Revolution — here to disrupt and reimagine, seek revolution.

  
  

This blueprint shows me I was never meant for a conventional path. My intensity, my detours, my deep sensitivity, they are not flaws. They’re my design.

And here’s where it gets powerful: my ADHD and Human Design don’t clash, they dance together. Being a Manifesting Generator means I’m wired to be multi-passionate, to follow sparks, and to move quickly between ideas. ADHD amplifies this. It gives me bursts of hyperfocus, creativity, and energy that let me weave many things at once, writing, mothering, building, creating, healing. What once felt chaotic, I now see as part of my genius.

Signs in Adulthood: How It Shows Up Now

• Creative bursts & hyperfocus — writing chapters in one sitting, birthing vision.

• Dislike of mundane admin — systems help, but freedom is oxygen.

• Emotional high tides — luminous highs, deep lows.

• Empathy like radar — sensing unspoken currents.

• Relationships — boundaries now anchor intimacy.

• Parenting — healing cycles through my children.

• Spiritual resonance — ADHD feels less like a disorder and more like a starseed wiring, attuned to more than most.

  
  

Why This Journey Matters

A diagnosis wasn’t about boxing me in. It was about language, finally understanding how I move, feel, love, and create.

It gave me compassion for the little girl with itchy socks and upside-down monkey bar photos. For the teenager who overgave. For the adult who was misunderstood.

It showed me how what once felt like a flaw can become a lamp: lighting my path, guiding others, healing wounds.

This story is for anyone who has ever felt “too much” or “not enough.” You are not broken. Your wiring is sacred. Your sensitivity is a gift. And your life is meant to be lived,not just managed.

✨ The Courage Code is here. If you can relate to this, or even if you can’t, The Courage Code was created to help you feel truly seen, heard, and even felt.

It’s not just a course, it’s a transmission, a space where your story, your wiring, and your healing journey matter. Whether you’re navigating ADHD, trauma, sensitivity, or simply searching for deeper connection, The Courage Code offers tools, practices, and resonance to remind you that you are not broken.

You are human. You are sacred. And you deserve to live a life anchored in courage, peace, and truth. 🌿

This is an exciting time for man-kind! Let's RISE together!

CLICK HERE for more information.

With love,

Laura x