Understanding Derealization and Cognitive Override Failure
A trauma-informed reflection on why logic sometimes disappears, what dissociation really is, and how autistic sensory wiring, unpredictability, and past overwhelm can trigger a full nervous system override — even when everything seems fine on the surface.
There’s a strange kind of panic that doesn’t come from thoughts. It comes from the body.
You can be calm one moment, fully functional, even cracking jokes — and then suddenly, without warning, everything shifts. The air feels different. The ground doesn't feel real. The people around you sound far away. And no matter how much you try to reason with yourself, it doesn’t help. Logic doesn’t work. Nothing feels safe — not even yourself.
If you’ve ever experienced this, especially as a late-diagnosed autistic adult, you’re not alone. What you're feeling has a name, and a reason. It’s your nervous system doing exactly what it was wired to do: protect you.
Derealization is when the world around you feels strange, unreal, or not quite right — like you’re watching everything through a fog or like it’s not really happening.
Depersonalization sometimes comes with it — that feeling of being disconnected from your own body, like you’re floating, observing yourself from outside, or “not really here.”
This isn’t irrationality. It’s not weakness or immaturity.
It’s a trauma response. A form of nervous system protection.
You didn’t lose your mind — you lost your sense of self in space and time, because your body was trying to shield you from what it perceived as too much.
You managed everything — until your nervous system couldn’t hold it in anymore. And then, like a circuit breaker, something flipped.
Because sometimes the panic doesn’t hit in the middle of the chaos, but in the stillness before it.
Like right before a procedure. Or when you’re stuck in a waiting room. Or paused on the threshold of something big.
You're no longer in motion. You're no longer doing. You're waiting.
Your brain knows: I'm about to surrender control.
And your body? It braces. Even if nothing dangerous is happening, your system remembers when you felt helpless — and responds as if it’s happening again.
That’s the tipping point.
The answer is yes — it’s trauma.
But not in the vague, diluted way the word is often used. What you’re describing is a very real, biological process.
Not a flaw. Not overreacting.
A nervous system override.
Especially if you’ve had to hold everything together for most of your life, your body may not fully trust that anyone will care for you once you’re no longer in control.
Even if you logically know you’re safe, your survival system might say:
No — this is when I vanish.
That’s why so many of us say things like:
“It felt like I wasn’t grounded anymore. Nothing felt safe.”
That’s derealization. That’s a trauma response.
When trauma and neurodivergence intersect, your brain’s logic systems — especially the prefrontal cortex — are overridden by stress signals from:
The amygdala (fear)
The hypothalamus (survival regulation)
The brainstem (autonomic functions)
So even if you're 30, 40, or 60 now, your nervous system isn’t using your age or logic as data. It’s using felt memory.
It’s doing exactly what it was built to do: protect you.
You know it’s irrational.
You tell yourself you’re okay.
But your body doesn’t feel safe — and so it doesn’t respond to logic.
This is called cognitive override failure.
It’s common in both trauma and autism.
And the only way to shift a nervous system state is through:
Co-regulation (feeling safe with others)
Predictability
Agency
Self-trust
All of which trauma tends to erode.
It’s also what your body expected to happen, but couldn’t escape.
Sometimes it’s not one big event. It’s a slow erosion of safety — tiny panics that went unseen, fears that were minimized, overstimulated moments that no one helped regulate. Especially in childhood.
That’s why, for some of us, our world seems to be getting smaller and smaller.
It’s not because we’re irrational — but because our bodies never learned it was safe to let go.
Places like hospitals, airports, classrooms, crowded malls, family gatherings, or even your own home during a tense moment — can all become overwhelming in ways that seem disproportionate from the outside.
They may be:
Loud, echoing, or filled with artificial light
Full of unpredictable strangers or sudden interruptions
Sensory minefields: smells, blinking lights, background noise, fluorescent hums
Situations where you have little control or agency
For autistic people — and especially those with trauma — control is safety.
Once it’s gone, the body says:
“We’ve been here before — not this exact place, but this helpless feeling — and it didn’t end well.”
And then the panic hits.
Even if the setting seems neutral.
Because the body isn’t responding to the event.
It’s responding to felt memory and perceived helplessness.
Your adult brain is using logic.
Your survival brain is using sensation and memory.
They’re playing two different games — and that’s why logic doesn’t work in the moment.
It’s not your fault.
It’s not irrational.
It’s a mismatch of systems.
It doesn’t need to make logical sense to be valid.
Your nervous system doesn’t speak logic.
It speaks felt safety.
