Moving out of Survival Mode

Image Copyright Disney Pixar

Ever see the movie Brave? My daughter spent much of her early childhood obsessed with Disney princesses, and Merida grew to be one of my personal favorites. Brave is a movie about a teenage Scottish princess, navigating through her roles and responsibilities as royalty while still maintaining loyalty to her authentic self. In some ways, I can relate. While I am no princess, the world does put expectations on us and at times, remaining true to who we are can be challenging. Merida's father, the king, has this army of Scottish highlanders, ready to fight at a moment's notice. They appear a little rough around the edges: wild hair and missing teeth, some brutish and others lanky, big gnarly beards and big hearts that fiercely protect the royal family. Given the slightest provocation, they are ready to let out war cries and run headlong into danger, bagpipes blaring, swords and spiked clubs swinging indiscriminately at anything in their path (which is sometimes even a member of their own army and not the enemy.) This image, these scruffy warriors, this is what I imagine my nervous system in survival mode to look like.

Thanks guys, but calm down for a minute.

I started writing this series of recent blog posts as a response to my own healing from years of living in constant survival mode. My private army of ruthless warriors would attack at the slightest sign of danger, regardless of whether there was an actual threat or not. I started each day with my heart racing and adrenaline pumping, on alert for whatever dangers the day may bring, even long after I was out of danger. PTSD can do that to you; you get stuck in survival mode, and constant fight or flight becomes a habit. The reason I have be focusing on neuroplasticity in this blog post series is because the good news is that your brain's same ability that adapted to kept you safe from danger, has the abilty to change again and learn to live in calm and peace. Working with my hands supported me throughout my exit from survival mode by allowing me to remain present in safety. Handwork also engaged my body in an active task so that my brain had something else to focus on other than all the "what ifs" or anticipating the next disaster. I am safe now. I no longer need to stay one step ahead of chaos. And I have had to teach my gangly army of ruffians to hang back until there is real and present danger.

I have noticed over the past couple of weeks that I have for some reason, slipped back into survival mode. As I plan my day and work towards goals to create a life that I love instead of a life that perpetuates panic, the army sees that as a cue to attack. "She wants to save money! Don't let her spend any! Oh no, she's paying a bill! There's less money now!!! AHHH!!" (*Adrenaline fuels scarcity thoughts as muddy Scottish highlander cartoon figures charge at a run.). "She wants to get healthy but didn't do weight training today! Move it! Move it! Move it! Quickly! Get up! She has got to stay motivated!! (*Army startles awake and blindly runs forward with weapons swinging wildly.) This is exactly what survival mode does as it responds to the thoughts you have about everything that may or may not be dangerous. Sometimes, as is the case now for me, my goals and taking steps to reach the goals, have become a reason for my nervous system army to suspect danger and sound the alarm. All of my "want to's" have become do or die.

Habit. That's all it is. And habits can be changed.

So as I bring this into awareness, I am rewiring my thoughts to move forward through my day from a place of safety. I notice when panic sets in and changes my "want to's" into a terrifying to do list that results in guilt rather than joy. Somewhere during my life I learned that I had to be excessively productive in order to survive. I learned that I had to work at the speed of light from the moment I woke up until the moment I fell asleep or else danger would swallow me and my family. Now I am learning to be at peace, that I am safe to rest even if it means skipping exercise for a little while. Paying bills on time is a reason to smile, not freak out because my bank balance is lower.

My nervous system's job now is to create support, energy, resilence, and joy. I am setting my scottish highlanders to the tasks of gardening, sewing, cooking nourishing meals, journaling, embroidering, and knitting. I imagine how silly these warriors look wearing aprons over their armor and stirring cauldrons of stewing tomatoes from the garden, or sitting with backs to a tree with swords and shields laying in the grass as their hands are busy with knitting needles and wool, or sitting cross legged on fluffy pillows wearing thimbles and stitching patterns onto pretty fabric.

Yeah. That'll keep'em busy for a while.