The other day, I fell into one of those classic spirals: trauma vs. identity crisis vs. internet rabbit hole. You know the ones. It started innocently enough, I was trying to figure out if CPTSD counts as neurodivergent. Before I knew it, I was eight tabs deep, reading about brain scans, childhood trauma, and how some people think the term neurodivergent should come with a user manual and a committee vote.

Let’s back up.

First: What Even Is Neurodivergent?

Neurodivergent is one of those newer-ish terms that’s basically a way of saying, “Hey, my brain does things a little differently.” It originally came from the autism community, but over time it’s expanded to include ADHD, OCD, learning differences like dyslexia, and, yep, mental health stuff like CPTSD.

Importantly, it’s not a diagnosis. It’s more of a social identity, a way to say, “This is how I move through the world, and it’s valid, even if it doesn’t match the so-called norm.”

Which brings us to…

CPTSD: A Whole Different Operating System

CPTSD isn’t just “PTSD with extra steps.” It’s what happens when trauma isn’t a one-time event but a slow, repeated erosion: childhood neglect, emotional abuse, relationships that felt like walking through a minefield barefoot for years.

As a result, it rewires the brain in real, observable ways:

• Being on high alert, even when nothing’s wrong, because something used to be wrong all the time.

• Struggling with memory, focus, and time (seriously, what even is time?).

• Having a nervous system that treats someone not texting back as a five-alarm fire.

• Relationships? Attachment? Don’t get me started. (Okay, get me started, but that’s another post.)

This isn’t just emotional baggage. It’s brain chemistry. Nervous system overload. Research backs that up: imaging studies show CPTSD impacts the amygdala, hippocampus, and prefrontal cortex, the parts of your brain that deal with fear, memory, and decision-making. (Source: OurMental.Health)

So… Is CPTSD Neurodivergent?

In short: yeah. It can be.

CPTSD changes how you think, feel, relate, remember, and even perceive reality. It’s a different way of existing in the world, not by choice, but by survival. That’s not “broken.” That’s neurodivergent. And for many of us, that framing feels more empowering than pathologizing.

Interestingly, there are even overlaps with conditions like autism and ADHD. People with CPTSD often report sensory overload, emotional dysregulation, and executive dysfunction, traits that show up in those communities too. (Source: MindBlown Psychology)

Of course, some people argue that neurodivergence should only apply to things you’re born with. But honestly? If trauma rewired your brain so thoroughly that your experience of life is radically different from the “norm,” why wouldn’t that count?

A quick side note: This also depends on how you’re looking at it. Some people lean on the medical model of neurodivergence, diagnosis, treatment, all that clinical jazz. Others use the social model, which is more about identity, access, and how society can better accommodate different ways of thinking and being. Personally? I think both can be true. You don’t need a committee vote to know your brain works differently.

In fact, clinical psychologists and trauma experts are even beginning to discuss CPTSD as part of the neurodivergent umbrella, especially when it comes to self-identity and accessibility. (Source: Dr. Roseann)

Ultimately, the point isn’t to label ourselves into a corner. The point is to claim space. To say, “This is me. I process things differently. And that difference deserves understanding, not judgment.”

Why This Matters

When I started thinking of myself as neurodivergent, not just traumatized or “still working on my issues”, something softened. I stopped trying to fix myself like a broken appliance. Instead, I started learning to work with my brain, not against it.

I gave myself permission to be wired differently. To stop apologizing for it.

And you know what? That shift has been a game-changer.

Final Thoughts (Because My Brain Needs Closure)

If CPTSD has shaped your wiring, your reactions, and your relationships, yeah, you’re probably neurodivergent.

Welcome to the club.

There’s no secret handshake (yet), but we’ve got memes, mutual understanding, and the occasional nap in the middle of the day because our nervous systems are fried.

You’re not alone. Or broken. You’re just…wired differently. And that’s not just okay, it’s valid.

Want to talk about this more? I’d love to hear how you navigate the world with CPTSD or whatever flavor of neurodivergence you carry. Drop me a comment, send a smoke signal, or whisper to a pigeon. (Or, you know, the contact page works too.)

Be gentle with yourself.

Photo by Mahdi Bafande on Unsplash