Hi, I’m Yashoda, a paediatric surgeon turned holistic healer at Yashoda Yatra. For years, I navigated high-stakes environments like rural hospitals in South Africa, thriving on adrenaline and problem-solving. But beneath it all, my mind was a tangled web. It took quitting nicotine during triathlon training to unravel the truth: I was dealing with symptoms that mimicked undiagnosed adult ADD, but rooted deeply in childhood trauma. Sharing my story here isn’t just catharsis—it’s a roadmap for others who might feel the same way, showing that these challenges can be managed successfully by addressing their true origins. Let’s untangle it together.

The Wake-Up Call: Beyond Nicotine Withdrawal

It started with a team triathlon prep. I ditched nicotine, bracing for cravings, but what hit harder was the mental fog. Past the withdrawal, my thoughts piled up like derailed trains—multiple ideas crashing, distractions pulling me from tasks. Work stress became unbearable; I couldn’t focus. Nicotine had been my crutch, centering the chaos. A YouTube video of Trevor Noah describing his experiences with similar symptoms was the lightbulb moment—I delved deeper and discovered how childhood trauma can manifest as what looks like adult ADD.

In women, these symptoms often fly under the radar: high-functioning, masked by coping mechanisms developed in response to early experiences of not feeling heard or understood. Gabor Maté, a doctor like me, argues it’s not just genetics but trauma—perhaps a morphogenetic field shaping our responses—that leads to emotional dysregulation and habits that persist into adulthood. Unmasked in adulthood by overwhelming stress, my coping strategies crumbled. The failure felt personal, but it was the key to understanding that addressing the root trauma could lead to healing. (While I resonate with Maté’s trauma lens, I recognise ADD has multifaceted causes, including genetics, and encourage consulting professionals for personalised diagnosis. See Further Reading below)

The Superpowers and Struggles of a Trauma-Influenced Mind

These symptoms aren’t a deficit—they’re a different wiring shaped by early experiences. I thrived in stressful, challenging roles: paediatric surgery’s problem-solving and danger kept me focused, even exciting. Monotonous tasks, deadlines, or office work? Agony—procrastination until the last minute, then a thrill-fueled burst to succeed. Admin, budgets, appointments? Time blindness and impulsivity ruled. I’d follow instincts over plans, but simple things felt painful.

Hyperfixation was my double-edged sword: I’d create masterpieces in one day if passionate, but lose interest in hobbies, doom-scroll, or binge series. Socially, masking exhausted me—mirroring “normal” to fit in, uncomfortable eye contact, high empathy leading to sacrifice of the self in relationships and abrupt cut-offs.

Rejection sensitivity turned an onlooker’s frown into a storm; emotional dysregulation from childhood tantrums carried over as adult anxiety and burnout. Clumsiness, negative self-talk (the “demon” default mode network), and anxiety were my shadows—often misdiagnosed as burnout, anxiety, or depression without exploring the trauma roots.

Yet, the superpowers? Empathy, compassion, thriving in chaos—strengths that served me as a surgeon, but weaknesses without boundaries. These traits, born from adapting to trauma, can be harnessed once the underlying wounds are healed.

The Overlap of ADD-Like Symptoms and Childhood Trauma

Not feeling heard and understood in formative years leads to emotional dysregulation and coping mechanisms that persist into adulthood. The default mode network (DMN) takes over: constant negative self-talk, feelings of low self-worth, people-pleasing to gain love and affection. Selflessness breeds a habit of sacrificing the self to earn love and placate the demanding people around you. Have you felt guilty and conflicted about saying no, even though you didn’t have the time or energy to say yes?

These are insidious habits that develop into symptoms resembling ADD. The inability to stop the racing thoughts and sit in silence begets the constant need for stimulation and dopamine kicks. The root cause is maladaptive behavior linked to that early trauma. Address this, and the symptoms become clearer, making healing possible—as I’ve experienced through my own journey.

What Didn’t Help (and What I Learned)

Ritalin and amphetamines quieted the noise but dulled my spirit—cut off from energy, intuition, and joy. They felt like a crutch, not a cure. Seeing these symptoms solely as a burden, ignoring the superpowers, or weighing uninformed opinions (“too sensitive, lazy, intense”) only amplified the “demon.” Alcohol in social settings “levelled the field,” but it masked, not healed.

What Helped: The Path to Clarity

Learning about the trauma origins of these symptoms was transformative—stories from Trevor Noah, Gabor Maté, and others connected dots to high-functioning masks and early wounds. Nicotine and caffeine as “uppers” helped focus, but weren’t sustainable. Microdosing psilocybin (3-4 times/week, 1-month cycles) was a game-changer—non-addictive, no weaning, it quieted the mind without dulling my edge. (This worked for me as a guided approach, but it’s not a substitute for professional medical advice- consult experts and check local laws. See Further reading below)

Patience with myself was key: sharing with loved ones for understanding, guilt-free downtime (lounging essential), leaving toxic situations (even relationships driven by guilt or rejection sensitivity). Following passions, setting boundaries to protect empathy, and self-love affirmations reversed the DMN’s negativity. Don’t believe every thought—recognise the demon at work.

Yoga, meditation, nature, animals, and children slowed my mind to alpha/theta waves—creating space. Devi Maryada—expanding time luxuriously—turned tasks into flow. These tools unmasked the strengths: my empathy as service, not weakness. By addressing the childhood trauma at the core, I’ve managed these symptoms successfully, turning chaos into lasting clarity.

Embracing the Untangled Mind

These symptoms aren’t a fixed label—they’re a lens shaped by past experiences. My journey from tangled trains to clarity showed me: face the demons, honor the superpowers, and build a life that fits. If this resonates, explore your story—you might untangle more than you think, especially by healing any underlying trauma. At Yashoda Yatra, I’m here to guide with Bio-Well scans and therapies—let’s connect!