You’re Not Broken
If you’re here, you’re probably trying to make sense of yourself. So was I.
For most of my life, I felt like I was too much and not enough all at once. Too sensitive. Too emotional. Too forgetful. Too reactive. Too withdrawn. And always, always trying to hold it all together.
I didn’t know I was living with ADHD.
I didn’t know I was autistic.
I didn’t know I was surviving trauma every single day.
Now I do. And this is what these words mean to me.
ADHD – My Fast, Fiery Brain
ADHD for me feels like speed and chaos and magic all at once. My brain moves fast. Ideas come quickly. I speak before I think. I forget why I walked into the kitchen. I hyper-focus on something for hours and then crash. I can be messy.
ADHD isn’t about being disorganised or lazy. It’s about regulation: of focus, of energy, of emotions. It’s being in a constant dance between doing too much and not being able to start at all.
Autism – My Sensory, Pattern-Seeking Mind
For the majority of my life, I didn’t know I was autistic. I just thought I needed more space. More quiet. More time alone to recover from everyday life.
Autism for me shows up as sensory sensitivity (noisy places drain me), strong smells, emotional depth, a strong sense of justice, and a love of structure and clarity. I miss social cues sometimes, especially when I’m tired. And I often take things literally. Oh, and I can’t stand a mess!
But more than anything, I’ve masked. For years. Decades. I became who people needed me to be, not who I really was.
AuDHD – The Combo That Finally Made Everything Click
ADHD and autism together create a unique experience. It’s the chaos and the structure. The spontaneity and the shutdowns. The sensory overwhelm and the impulsive decisions.
This is what people now call AuDHD – a term that describes people who are both autistic and have ADHD. It shows up differently in women, especially those who’ve learned to adapt and survive in silence.
Learning this changed everything. It gave me the language I never had. It made me stop blaming myself.
CPTSD – What Long-Term Trauma Does to a Nervous System
Complex PTSD is different from a single traumatic event. It’s the result of long-term exposure to trauma, often beginning in childhood. Abuse. Neglect. Fear. Instability. For me, that trauma continued into adulthood.
CPTSD shows up as:
- Hypervigilance (always scanning for danger)
- Emotional flashbacks (when you feel something old but can’t name why)
- Deep shame and self-blame
- Struggles with trust and connection
It’s not about weakness. It’s about adaptation. My nervous system did what it had to do to survive.
PTSD – Why This Diagnosis Still Matters
While I was diagnosed with CPTSD, I also experienced singular traumatic events alongside the more prolonged and repeated ones. PTSD is commonly associated with trauma that stems from a single significant event. While the term “life-threatening” is often used in clinical settings, it’s important to acknowledge that trauma doesn’t have to involve direct threats to life to be deeply impactful or devastating.
Rape, for example, isn’t always medically life-threatening, but it can absolutely rupture someone’s sense of safety, identity, and trust. That’s trauma. That matters.
I believe it’s important to name PTSD because so many people experience trauma in different forms – and it all deserves recognition, care, and healing.
PTSD can show up as:
- Nightmares and flashbacks
- Avoidance of reminders
- Heightened startle responses or panic
- Disconnection from the present moment
Whether your trauma was a moment or a lifetime, it matters.
Why I Share This
If you haven’t already, you might also want to read my latest blog where I reflect more personally on what this diagnosis meant for me – the grief, the clarity, and the sense of finally understanding myself in a new way.
Because if you’re here reading this, maybe some of it sounds familiar. Maybe you’ve been trying to fit in. To cope. To do your best when your brain and body were begging you to rest, to be seen, to be safe.
I share this to say: you’re not broken. There’s a name for what you’ve felt. There’s a path forward that doesn’t involve masking or spiralling or pretending to be okay.
I’m Ilja. I’m AuDHD. I’m healing from trauma. And I help women like you unmask, rebuild, and thrive.
You’re not alone. You’re not too much. You’re finally starting to understand yourself.
And that changes everything.
