In over 15 years of specializing in complex trauma, one of the most common things I hear from new clients is some version of this: “I’ve been in therapy before. I’ve been given diagnoses. But nothing has quite fit.”
For many of them, what was missing was the framework of CPTSD, or Complex Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder. Not because their previous clinicians were wrong, exactly, but because CPTSD asks different questions than the diagnostic categories most commonly used in the United States.
This post is my attempt to explain what CPTSD is, how I think about it clinically, and why getting it right matters for treatment.
A Quick Note on Where CPTSD Currently Stands
CPTSD is not yet listed in the DSM-5, the diagnostic manual used in the United States for diagnosis, treatment, and insurance reimbursement. It is, however, included in the ICD-11, the International Classification of Diseases, reflecting a growing global clinical consensus. For those of us trained in the work of Judith Herman and others of her foundational colleagues, and working within the framework of the International Society for the Study of Trauma and Dissociation (ISSTD), this recognition is meaningful, even if the DSM hasn’t caught up yet.
The Two Questions I Ask
When I’m trying to understand whether a client’s experience fits the CPTSD framework rather than PTSD, I start with two foundational questions.
1. Was the trauma relational?
Did the harm happen inside a relationship, with someone known and trusted, someone who held power or authority and misused it? This includes childhood abuse or neglect by a caregiver, domestic violence, or sustained mistreatment within institutions or communities where the person had no safe exit.
2. Was it sustained over time?
Did the trauma occur over months or years, rather than as a single discrete event? Classic PTSD is often associated with one identifiable incident. CPTSD tends to emerge from trauma that was chronic, inescapable, and woven into the texture of daily life.
When both answers are yes, we are typically in CPTSD territory, and that shapes everything about how I approach treatment.
Why CPTSD Often Gets Missed or Mislabeled
Because CPTSD is not in the DSM, clinicians working within that system often assign the diagnosis that best accounts for what they’re seeing: emotional instability, relational difficulty, identity disruption, chronic feelings of emptiness or shame. These presentations do overlap significantly with other recognized diagnoses, and the skills-based work that often follows from those diagnoses, particularly around emotional regulation and distress tolerance, can be genuinely helpful.
But skills alone don’t reach what’s underneath. When the driving force is complex relational trauma, the nervous system has spent years, sometimes decades, organizing itself around survival inside an unsafe relationship. Treating the symptoms without addressing that underlying structure is a bit like treating the smoke without finding the fire.
This is why many clients with CPTSD describe feeling like they’ve done a lot of work, learned a lot of tools, and still feel like something fundamental hasn’t shifted. The framework was incomplete, not the person.
The Pattern That Often Surprises People: Thriving in Chaos, Struggling in Calm
One of the most clinically interesting patterns I see is this: Clients who have experienced long-term-relational trauma are often remarkably high-functioning in demanding, high-stakes environments. They excel in crises. They are the person others turn to when things fall apart. They may have built careers around exactly that capacity.
And then they come home to a quiet evening, or a stable relationship, or a period in life where nothing is on fire, and they fall apart.
This is not a paradox. It makes complete sense once you understand it through a trauma lens. If your nervous system learns to regulate itself through urgency and hypervigilance, then chaos is familiar. It is, in a physiological sense, where you know how to be. Calm can feel threatening, because calm was never safe. Calm was when something bad was about to happen.
Many clients with this pattern have spent years wondering why they can’t seem to want the things that everyone else wants: a stable relationship, a steady routine, a life that isn’t in constant motion. The answer is rarely that they don’t want those things. It’s that their nervous system hasn’t yet learned that those things are safe.
What CPTSD Treatment Actually Involves

Grounded in the phased treatment model recommended by Judith Herman and the ISSTD, trauma-informed work with CPTSD typically moves through three broad areas:
- Safety and stabilization: building the internal and relational foundation necessary to do deeper trauma work without retraumatizing the client
- Trauma processing: working through the traumatic material at a pace the nervous system can tolerate, using approaches such as EMDR, Brainspotting, or parts-based work
- Integration: consolidating a more coherent sense of self and rebuilding the capacity for safe, trusting relationships
The sequence matters. Jumping into trauma processing before the first phase is solid can be dysregulating and counterproductive. This is one of the reasons that specialized training in complex trauma is not incidental, it is foundational to doing this work well.
If This Sounds Familiar
If you have been in therapy before and something has always felt slightly off, or if you recognized yourself in the patterns described here, that recognition is worth paying attention to. A clinician with specialized training in complex trauma can help you understand your history through a framework that actually fits, and from there, build a treatment approach that can reach what previous work may not have.
At Good Company Therapy Group, our clinicians specialize in complex trauma and work from a framework grounded in current research and clinical best practice. Reach out to learn more about getting started.

Looking for Support for Complex PTSD?
If the experiences described in this article feel familiar, working with a therapist trained in complex trauma can help you better understand what you’ve lived through and build a path toward lasting healing.
