A Fun Game of “What’s Wrong With Me?”
Spoiler Alert: It’s Probably Trauma (Because, of Course, It Is).
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My daughter recently helped me take an autism assessment, and—surprise!—the results came back with a "high probability" of autism. Cue my confusion. Naturally, I turned to my personal board of directors (aka the people who know me best), and suddenly, things started to make sense. Nope, not autism—I’m more of an AuDHDer. What’s that, you ask? Well, folks, that’s when ADHD and autism get together and throw a rager in your brain. But how does that work? Oh, you guessed it—trauma, baby, trauma.
Yet again, I was looking for an answer that wasn’t trauma, but here we are. Like an uninvited party guest, it just keeps showing up. Fine. Time to suit up and handle this beast once and for all.
Here are my symptoms/characteristics (aka my unofficial diagnostic checklist):
I am obsessed with learning new things—because obviously, I need another hobby I’ll drop in three weeks.
I hyperfocus on my writing, to the point where I forget to eat, sleep, and, you know, function.
When people aren’t straightforward, my soul leaves my body. Just tell me what you mean before I combust.
I have severe emotional swings—like a toddler but with taxes and responsibilities.
A messy house makes me see red, but the rage vanishes the second I clean up (or yell at someone else to do it).
I get really excited about something, then—poof—bored. Instantaneously.
Once upon a time, I tried to self-medicate with drugs and alcohol. Shocker: It didn’t work.
School? Hated it. Electives where I could be creative? Loved them.
If a job bores me, I’m out faster than a cat spotting a cucumber.
I take criticism like a gladiator takes arrows—dramatically and with a lot of internal suffering.
Long-winded stories drive me insane (you know who you are, Thomas). Get to the point before I start speed-running our conversation.
I have mastered the art of masking, but inside? A chaotic tornado of thoughts.
If I stop caring about something (or someone)? Bye.
Lists keep my life from crumbling into chaos. If it’s not written down, it’s basically dead to me.
If I don’t do something right away, it’s never happening. Ever.
Sitting still? Ha. I scroll my phone while watching a show while cleaning while planning my next meal.
I dream in color—like a cinematic masterpiece—but explaining them? Ugh. Stop rearranging my visions!
I need background noise to focus. Music, podcasts, TV—I’d probably thrive in a sensory deprivation chamber.
I people-watch like it’s a competitive sport because that’s how I learned to act "normal."
Jack of all trades, master of none. But hey, at least I’m fun at parties.
I hear noises other people don’t. No, really. What do you mean you don’t hear that buzzing sound?!
Overstimulation is my mortal enemy.
Plans changing last minute? Just throw me into a black hole instead.
Open-ended answers? I will fight you. Be direct, or prepare for my interrogation.
My schedule is my sacred text, and deviations are blasphemy.
I have daily rituals that must be followed lest the universe implode.
Emotions? I have them. In bulk.
Small talk is painful, but long-winded stories are worse. It’s a fine balance.
Sometimes, I just don’t get people. Cue awkward follow-up questions that make me sound like a malfunctioning robot.
Blunt? Me? Never. (Okay, always.)
For me, only a handful of these traits were childhood quirks—the rest? Oh, those were acquired. Shoutout to domestic abuse for the complete rewiring of my brain. Turns out, gaslighting works (but not in the way you think). Can I rewire my brain again? Who knows. Do I want to? Yes. Am I also deeply attached to my coping mechanisms? Also yes.
How Trauma Can Mimic or Overlap with ADHD & Autism:
Emotional Regulation & Sensory Overload
Trauma makes the nervous system a drama queen—everything is loud, overwhelming, and stressful.
Emotional swings? More like an emotional rollercoaster with no seatbelt.
Hyperfocus might actually be hypervigilance—gotta stay one step ahead of disaster, right?
Masking & People-Pleasing
Trauma teaches you to blend in to survive. Oscar-worthy performances all around.
People-pleasing isn’t just being nice—it’s dodging emotional landmines.
Copying "normal" behavior isn’t just a skill—it’s a full-time job.
Dissociation vs. Executive Dysfunction
Zoning out? Oops, dissociation strikes again.
Struggling to complete tasks? Brain said nope.
Struggles with Change & Routine
Routine = safe. Change = pure chaos.
Impulsivity & Self-Medication
Oh, look! Another hobby I’ll abandon in a week.
Dopamine-chasing, or just running from my own thoughts? Jury’s still out.
The Need for Control
A messy house = internal doom spiral.
Lists, schedules, and rituals = emotional life rafts.
Difficulty with Criticism & Emotional Sensitivity
Please just tell me I’m doing great. Anything else is a personal attack.
Hyperawareness of Others & People-Watching
I read people like a mystery novel—every micro-expression gets analyzed.
Is this neurodivergence or survival mode? (Probably both.)
Struggles with Task Completion & Motivation
If it’s not done immediately, it’s never getting done.
Perfectionism or total avoidance—there is no in-between.
And just when I thought I had this all figured out, a shaman tells me I have trapped emotions blocking my light. Fantastic. The good news? Writing helps. The bad news? I might need to do more than just writing. I miss the version of me who was adventurous and fearless—before trauma turned my brain into a haunted house.
That’s what trauma is—fear. Fear that doesn’t leave, even after the danger is gone. But here’s the thing: I’m so over being afraid. So, who’s ready to tackle this mess with me? Let’s chat.