ADHD or Trauma? A Somatic Perspective on Attention, Hyperfocus and Emotional Suppression
- Laura Starky
- Nov 14
- 6 min read
“The scattered mind is not a disease but a developmental problem, the origin of which is to be found in the early years of childhood”
Gabor Maté (Scattered Minds: The Origins and Healing of Attention Deficit Disorder)
I hear it time and time again... “That’s just my ADHD.”
I understand why people say it. A diagnosis can feel like a relief, finally giving shape to something you’ve wrestled with for years. It can bring community, validation, a sense that you’re not imagining your struggles. I’ve felt the pull of that myself. There were times I nearly went down the path of seeking an ADHD assessment, certain that it would explain my restlessness, my tendency to hyperfocus, not finish what I'd started, fail to be systematic, the way I could lose myself in a task until there was nothing left in the tank.
But what changed things for me wasn’t a label. It was the work of self-healing. Slowing down enough to notice what my nervous system was doing. Discovering the patterns underneath the overdrive, burnout and the procrastination. Realising how much of it was less about being “wired wrong” and more about the ways my body had adapted to survive.
That’s why I want to ask a tender but important question: Could some of what we call ADHD also be the imprint of trauma, emotional suppression and a nervous system that never learned how to rest?
What We Mean by ADHD
ADHD, or Attention-Deficit/Hyperactivity Disorder, is most often described in terms of inattention, impulsivity and hyperactivity. For adults, this can look like difficulty focusing, racing thoughts, struggling to finish tasks, or swinging between bursts of energy and total shutdown.
For many, hearing those words brings a rush of recognition: Yes, that’s me. There can be comfort in finally having language for something that felt unexplainable and it’s important to honour that.
At the same time, the very traits we associate with ADHD is restlessness, impatience, procrastination, the desperate search for stimulation, whcih are also what we see when a nervous system is living in survival mode. When the body doesn’t feel safe to slow down, stillness can feel unbearable. Hyperfocus can become a way of bracing. Procrastination a form of shutdown. In this light, the line between ADHD and trauma is not always as clear as we might think.
Gabor Maté and ADHD as Adaptation
One of the voices that has shaped my understanding of this is Dr Gabor Maté. In his book Scattered Minds, he suggests that what we call ADHD is not simply a genetic flaw or a lifelong disorder, but often a developmental adaptation to stress and disconnection in early life.
Maté writes “The scattered mind is not a disease but a developmental problem, the origin of which is to be found in the early years of childhood.”
When a child doesn’t feel fully safe, seen or connected, their nervous system adapts in whatever way it can. Sometimes that looks like attention fragmenting, whcih is a mind darting away from discomfort. Sometimes it shows up as the search for stimulation like a body craving movement, novelty or excitement to fill the gap where safety is missing.
From this view, ADHD traits are not proof of a brain wired up wrong, but signs of a nervous system doing its best to survive. And while those adaptations may once have been protective, they can become exhausting later in life - leading to the very patterns so many of us recognise, whcih includes hyperfocus with no off switch, emotional dysregulation, impulsivity and not thinking anything through, inability to finish a project, difficulty with stillness and that restless push to keep moving.
Somatic therapy doesn’t dismiss diagnosis, but it does invite us to see these traits through a gentler lens, which is not as fixed deficits, but as body-stories that can shift when safety and regulation return.
Hyperfocus, Dopamine and the “No Off Switch”
One of the patterns I know well in myself and that so many people describe is the swing between hyperfocus and procrastination.
Hyperfocus can feel like a gift at first. You drop so deeply into a task that the world disappears. Hours pass in what feels like minutes. But here’s the cost: there’s often no off switch. You keep going, chasing the satisfaction of that next small dopamine hit, until you’re wrung out and depleted.
Then comes the other side of the cycle procrastination. When there isn’t that same hit of stimulation, the task feels impossible to begin. It’s as if the body suddenly slams on the brakes. From the outside, it can look like laziness. Inside, it feels like wading through glue.
For me, it was a rhythm that felt uncomfortably close to drinking. The rush of the first sip, the slide into more, then the crash that follows. Hyperfocus gave me the high; procrastination was the hangover.
From a somatic perspective, this isn’t just poor time management. It’s the nervous system toggling between mobilisation (sympathetic energy: go, do, achieve) and shutdown (dorsal vagal: can’t, won’t, stop). It’s the body doing its best to manage energy, stress and emotion, without the regulation tools it needed earlier in life.
Somatic work doesn’t take away the natural rhythm of attention, but it helps soften the extremes. It teaches the body how to find steadier ground between the all-or-nothing cycles.
Phones, Digital Stimulation and the Hijack of Attention
There’s another piece we can’t ignore when we talk about attention in today’s world, whcih is the impact of phones, social media and constant digital stimulation.
Our devices are designed to keep us hooked. Every notification, every scroll, every little red dot gives us a hit of dopamine. Over time, this conditions our brains and our nervous systems to keep seeking the next micro-reward. The result? Stillness feels harder. Focus feels slippery. The ordinary pace of life can feel unbearably slow.
It’s no wonder that so many people describe themselves as “ADHD” these days. Even without a formal diagnosis, the culture we live in pulls us towards distraction, impatience and overstimulation. When the nervous system is already carrying stress or trauma, this layer of digital intensity can tip it further into imbalance.
From a somatic perspective, it’s not about demonising phones or pretending we can’t live with them. It’s about recognising the effect they have on our state. Do you notice your breath shallow after scrolling? Do you find it harder to sleep after an evening online? Do you reach for your phone the moment discomfort arises? These are signs that your body is seeking safety through stimulation, rather than through rest and regulation.
Gentle boundaries with technology aren’t about restriction. They’re a way of offering your nervous system space to settle, so your attention doesn’t always have to live in high alert.
Somatic Therapy and Healing Attention
Somatic therapy doesn’t aim to “fix” attention or switch off hyperfocus. Instead, it creates the conditions where your nervous system can find steadier rhythms. When the body begins to feel safe, attention naturally softens and expands and not because you’re forcing yourself to focus, but because the need for constant stimulation eases.
In practice, this might look like:
Grounding simple practices that remind your body it’s here, now, and safe enough to slow down.
Tracking sensations learning to notice the early signs of restlessness, before they snowball into all-or-nothing cycles.
Micro-pauses intentionally taking short breaks to reset your nervous system, so you don’t tip straight from hyperfocus into exhaustion.
Emotional digestion allowing grief, anger or frustration to move in small, safe doses, rather than being suppressed and redirected into distraction.
Co-regulation practising being in the presence of another nervous system that feels calm and attuned, so your body can learn what safety feels like in connection.
Somatic work is not about removing the traits we call ADHD. It’s about widening the space around them, so hyperfocus doesn’t burn you out, procrastination doesn’t paralyse you and digital life doesn’t constantly hijack your attention.
Over time, this creates more flexibility and the capacity to move between focus and rest, doing and being, stimulation and stillness, all without the extremes.
Closing
Whether you carry an ADHD diagnosis, are questioning it or simply recognise yourself in the swings of hyperfocus and procrastination, what matters most is this: your body has reasons for the way it moves.
Sometimes those reasons are rooted in early stress and disconnection. Sometimes they’re amplified by the pace of modern life and the pull of our devices. Often, they’re both.
Somatic therapy doesn’t deny the value of a label, but it offers another way of seeing. It reminds us that traits we call “symptoms” are often survival strategies, all ways the nervous system has learned to cope, adapt and protect, and what has been learned can also soften, shift and transform when we create the right conditions.
So I invite you to pause and ask: What if my struggles with attention are not evidence of a broken or wired up wrong mind, but signals from a body longing to feel safe?
If this resonates, you’re warmly welcome to explore my work at HeartSomatics™ a space to reconnect with your body, honour your rhythms and begin to trust your attention again in its natural, human pace.
Ready to go deeper on your journey?
