Map Your Healing Journey

This year, in the midst of imposter syndrome and depression and grief anniversaries and figuring out my business and the holidays, I decided to do an experiment:

I decided to Stop Forcing It, aka Don’t Force It.

What am I not forcing? Whatever doesn’t want to be forced. Whatever meets with resistance. Whatever requires that *obligation* feeling, and/or those feelings of, “I don’t want or need to do this, but I want people to like me.”

Whatever feels like a threat to my nervous system. I’m not forcing it anymore.

Introducing the Down Day

I need Down Days, but I have resented them, not taking one until I’ve fully crashed from being emotionally exhausted and/or physically sick.

The last couple of years, however, I have touted Down Days and rest as something we need. Our mental health needs time to not think about stuff and keep track of stuff. We need time and space to NOT do stuff.

If you’re like me (a trauma survivor) and you have taken a Down Day sometime over the last 30 years, then you *know* the guilt, shame, and inner criticism that comes with it. That voice inside my head that tells me I’m lazy and to remember All The Things that “need” to be done and that I’m “weak” for needing to rest.

I realized that resting is actually SUPER hard as a trauma survivor, which I wrote about over here.

So, over the last couple of years, I started having MORE Down Days, to practice. Like this weekend, for instance.

On Sunday, I did *nothing.*

I didn’t clean or shop or use the stove. I didn’t put “Laundry Mountain*” away. I didn’t think about all the stuff that had to be done. I didn’t read or write or make lists or walk or do anything holiday or work related.

Okay, I did take the dogs to the pet store and get their nails clipped, because the lady who does it is AWESOME and only there twice a month. And I heated up nondairy mac and cheese in the microwave.

Otherwise, I checked out. Completely and with intention. It was wonderful, and here are three very good reasons to consider *not* forcing it.

Our Culture Drains Our Mental Health

Our culture has a lot of messaging about “Being Productive.”

One of my personal affirmations is, “Your worth does not come from how productive you are.” This is a cornerstone sentence that I repeat to myself often.

Our culture is built on us being as productive as possible, damn the consequences. And trauma – with the perfectionism and keeping busy responses that help protect us – plays right into that.

I will say this again: Your worth does not come from how productive you are. I fall into this trap again and again, because I am a passionate person who gets a big dopamine kick from working, especially on trauma and grief related projects. And, coming from a trauma background, I learned that I could be “loved” for being really good at my work.

But it all messes with my self-worth in negative ways. In fact, my therapist recently asked me, “What’s this about how your self-worth is tied up in what you are doing?

And guess what? It’s never enough.

You know what you get when you are non-stop productive? I can tell you from experience! Burnt out. Angry. Exhausted. Resentful. Sick.

I Respect What My Body Tells Me

And I’ve learned how to do it the hard way.

What is the hard way? Keep going, keep pushing, no matter what. Deny my bodily sensations and my feelings. Ignore my mental state, because ignorance is bliss, right? (It isn’t). Then get really, really sick, combined with exhaustion. Then beat myself up for “not being strong enough.”

A highly unpleasant spiral, usually beginning right around Halloween and continuing through the end of the year.

As I write this, Christmas is barreling towards us at an alarming speed. In years past, I would be scurrying around, trying to make sure that traditions are kept and “everyone is happy.”

Not this year. I don’t want to get a tree, so I’m not getting one. The idea of hauling out our totes of Christmas stuff makes me nauseous, so I’m not doing it. No Christmas cards, no baked treats, no parties.

I have a grief anniversary, and a recent death in my community – it’s all too much right now. And now when my nervous system tells me that this is not the time to be running myself ragged, I’m learning how to listen. I’m giving myself the permission and freedom to do what feels good to my body and brain.

I’m Tired and Need Time to Integrate

The last three years have been incredibly stressful. And I know we hear this a lot, but stick with me for a minute.

I heard the other day that the pandemic has *profoundly* changed our children’s brains, and not for the better. And the way that trauma works in the brain, it will be years before our children – as adults – will become aware of how this trauma has affected them and ask for help.

Remember our grandparents and the Depression? Yeah. Like that.

Being adults doesn’t excuse us from the effects of trauma. The pandemic was collectively and individually traumatic, on top of whatever else was happening at the time. For me, I was going through a divorce and raising teenagers before the pandemic started. In fact, nothing in my life is the same as it was even five years ago, except my car.

That’s *a lot* of transition. We’ve all been through it. We’re still going through it.

We need time and space to integrate all of these changes. To help our spirits and souls and bodies and brains all catch up with one another.

Living at the Speed of My Nervous System

I’ve had more “practice what I preach” moments since I launched Map Your Healing Journey in September 2021 than I have IN MY ENTIRE LIFE COMBINED.

Whatever words I have spoken to others have come back to me a hundred times. For instance:

Me: I think it’s a good idea for you to learn how to regulate your nervous system in real time.

The Universe: Hey, Kelly! YOU FIRST.

Now run that conversation with The Universe about a hundred more times about different trauma and grief recovery stuff, and you’ve got it (LOL). I’m not complaining – yes, actually, yes I am. The lessons have been…real.

But all of this experience and trauma and grief work makes me better at my job, which is in the trenches, doing The Work, and being my authentic self.

And with trauma responses and grief anniversaries and winter depression, what am I doing about Christmas?

I’m finishing Christmas shopping, going to a couple of events, celebrating with family. Know what I’m NOT doing? I’m not decorating or getting a tree or maybe even *more.*

I’m not forcing it.

*Laundry Mountain refers the piles of clothes, towels, and blankets that NEVER ENDS and has now become a permanent installation in our home.