When I first began therapy, I had no idea there even existed such a thing as CPTSD. I just knew that I was flooded with emotional flashbacks, perpetual anxiety, and this pit that never seemed to end of shame. But no one could diagnose it in me.
One therapist said it was depression. Another floated the idea of “borderline tendencies.” And one? They implied I was being dramatic.
It’s why I originally went through numerous therapists. None of them asked me about trauma. Until I actually found a trauma-informed therapist.
And that’s a big part of the problem.
When Therapy Misses the Trauma
CPTSD is real. It’s quietly affecting the lives of millions of people. Yet in mainstream mental health, especially here in the U.S., it’s still not recognized, still misdiagnosed, minimized and all too often completely ignored.
And that begs the question: Why?
A major reason is that CPTSD isn’t listed in the DSM-5, the diagnostic manual most U.S. therapists, psychiatrists, and insurance companies follow. And if it’s not in the book, it too often doesn’t exist in the room.
Meanwhile, the World Health Organization has officially recognized CPTSD in the ICD-11. They define it as repeated or prolonged trauma, which usually occurs at vulnerable stages of life, such as childhood.
But here in the States?
We’re still clinging to an outdated, oversimplified idea of what trauma looks like.
It’s Not Always One Big Thing
Most people hear trauma and immediately imagine something gigantic and dramatic, a car accident, war, a natural catastrophe. That’s PTSD. And yes, those are completely traumatic.
But CPTSD? It’s different. It doesn’t always come from a single event.. It’s a slow-burn trauma growing up in a home where you never felt safe, where emotional neglect and constant fear shaped your every reaction. Living in a constant state of fear, criticism, or confusion.
It doesn’t always leave bruises or make the news. But it shapes you.
And if your therapist isn’t trauma-informed, they might never see it.
Not All Therapists Are Trained in This
Here’s a truth that can feel uncomfortable: Most therapists genuinely want to help. But the system they’re trained in often doesn’t prepare them for the depth of complex trauma.
So what does that mean in real life?
They might not recognize emotional flashbacks (those sudden floods of shame or fear with no clear trigger).
Can pathologize your dissociation or hypervigilance.
They might misdiagnose CPTSD as borderline personality disorder (which happens a lot).
Tell you to “reframe your thoughts” when your nervous system is actually stuck in a survival loop.
Again, this isn’t about blame. It’s about awareness. Because when that training gap goes unspoken, people walk away from therapy not feeling healed, but feeling broken. Or “too much.” When really? They just haven’t been fully seen.
The Symptoms Are Survival Strategies
Here’s what CPTSD often looks like:
Chronic shame and self-criticism
Emotional outbursts or shutdowns
Dissociation (feeling numb, spaced out, or not fully here)
Fear of abandonment
People-pleasing or “fawning” (going along to stay safe)
To the untrained eye, these can resemble anxiety, depression, ADHD, BPD, or a messy mix of all of them.
So, people get multiple labels. A prescription. A few worksheets. And they’re sent on their way.
But those symptoms? They’re not flaws. They’re survival strategies. It’s your body doing exactly what it had to do to keep you alive in unsafe situations.
The System Isn’t Built for Complexity
Let’s be real. The U.S. mental health system is underfunded, overworked, and tied up in insurance codes that don’t leave room for nuance. A 15-minute psych consult isn’t designed to unpack decades of relational trauma.
So you get a quick label. Maybe a pill. Maybe some CBT worksheets. And then, you’re left thinking, “Why can’t I get better?”
But it’s not you.
It’s the system’s inability to hold the weight of complex stories.
The Day It Finally Made Sense
The first time I heard the term CPTSD, something clicked. It wasn‘t a diagnosis, it was a map. A way of describing what I‘d been carrying around my whole life.
It didn’t magically fix everything. Still, it gave me direction. It led me to the right kind of therapy, trauma-informed, body-based, rooted in compassion and nervous system repair.
Because healing CPTSD needs more than just talk.
It needs safety. Time. Nervous system care. And above all, it needs to be seen.
If This Resonates, You’re Not Alone
If any of this sounds familiar, if you’ve ever felt like therapy didn’t quite reach the root, or like you’ve been misdiagnosed, or like something has always felt off..
You’re not broken, or too much.
You might just be living with a nervous system shaped by complex trauma.
And you deserve care that sees that, and healing that honors the full truth of your story.
Keep going.
You’re not alone.
And if you need a place to start? My resources page may help.
Photo by Ayyub Jauro on Pexels.