And today,
We're talking about something that I think a lot of us have experienced in one form or another,
Checking out.
Maybe that's emotional eating.
Maybe it's scrolling for an hour without even realizing it.
And that is easy to do.
Maybe it's sleeping.
Maybe it's zoning out.
Maybe It's becoming incredibly busy.
Maybe it's feeling absolutely nothing.
Maybe you're physically in the room?
But.
.
.
Emotionally?
You're somewhere else.
And if you've ever wondered,
Why do I keep doing this?
There's a possibility your nervous system has learned that disconnection feels safer than feeling.
Some,
But there are many ways to numb out.
Food can numb,
Can help you numb out.
Screens can numb.
Work can numb.
Sleep can numb.
Shopping.
Overthinking,
Cleaning,
Taking care of everyone else.
Can numb.
Even?
Constantly analyzing yourself can become a way of avoiding actually feeling yourself.
And again,
That doesn't mean every time you eat emotionally or scroll your phone,
You're traumatized.
Humans have habits.
Humans seek comfort.
Humans distract themselves.
That is normal.
But if you notice a pattern where you're repeatedly reaching for something specifically because you don't want to feel,
That's worth getting curious about.
Let's talk about food for a second.
Because emotional eating gets wrapped in so much shame.
We call ourselves weak,
Undisciplined,
Out of control.
We make food into a character test.
Eating can serve many functions.
Comfort,
Pleasure,
Connection,
Routine,
Regulation,
And sometimes escape.
You've had a brutal day,
And you reach for something comforting.
That doesn't make you broken.
But if you're repeatedly using food to avoid emotions you don't know how to tolerate,
Maybe the answer isn't another diet.
Maybe the answer is learning what the emotion is.
Maybe you're lonely.
Maybe you're angry.
Maybe you're overwhelmed.
Maybe you're exhausted.
Maybe you're grieving.
Maybe you're carrying resentment.
Maybe you haven't had five minutes to yourself all darn day.
And before you criticize yourself for what you ate,
Ask,
What was I actually needing?
Now,
I wanna turn our focus to talk about shutdown.
Because shutdown is often misunderstood.
People think trauma responses always look dramatic.
Fight,
Panic,
Crying,
Running.
But sometimes,
Trauma looks like nothing.
You don't want to talk.
You don't want to make decisions.
You don't want to answer texts.
You don't want to deal with the dishes.
You don't want to parent.
You don't even know what you're feeling.
You just.
Want everyone to leave you alone.
And maybe.
.
.
You feel guilty because you think,
What's wrong with me?
Sometimes your system has simply reached capacity.
And when fight or flight isn't sustainable,
Your body may move toward a more withdrawn state.
That doesn't mean every afternoon you spend on the couch is a trauma response.
Again,
Context matters.
If shutdown is a recurring pattern,
When you're overwhelmed,
It's worth noticing.
Sometimes.
Detachment can feel like peace.
This is a really interesting one.
Sometimes detachment feels amazing.
You don't care.
You don't feel angry.
You don't feel sad.
You don't feel anxious.
You're just.
.
.
Fine.
And after a lifetime of intense emotions,
Numbness can actually feel like relief.
But here's a difference between peace and disconnection.
Peace still allows you to feel.
Disconnection.
Often doesn't.
Peace,
Says.
I'm okay!
Shot Town says.
I can't feel this right now.
And sometimes.
.
.
We don't realize which one we're experiencing until we start coming back online.
Why would our brains do this?
I think this is a really interesting question.
Because your nervous system is designed to protect you.
That's its number one priority.
If something feels overwhelming,
Your brain may look for another option.
Fight,
Flight,
Freeze,
Fawn,
Or simply.
.
.
Don't feel it.
This is why I don't want us to shame these responses.
At some point,
They may have helped.
Maybe shutting down protected you from a conflict.
Maybe food gave you comfort when nobody else did.
Maybe staying busy kept you from thinking.
Maybe dissociating helped you survive something you couldn't escape.
Your brain wasn't trying to ruin your life.
It was trying to get you through something.
But what protected you then?
May not be what serves you now.
And so the problem isn't that you coped.
The problem is when coping becomes your only option.
If the only way you know how to handle overwhelm is to eat or scroll or sleep or shut down,
Then you're going to keep reaching for it.
So,
Instead of asking,
How do I make myself stop?
Ask,
What else can I learn to do?
Can I learn to recognize overwhelm earlier?
Can I take a break before I'm completely depleted?
Can I ask for help?
Can I move my body?
Can I cry?
Can I journal?
Can I talk to someone?
Can I sit somewhere quiet?
Can I name what I'm feeling?
Can I tolerate five minutes of discomfort without immediately escaping it?
That's how your toolbox grows.
You don't have to feel everything at once.
In fact,
You probably shouldn't.
If we're being real.
And here's something important.
Healing doesn't mean forcing yourself to feel everything you've ever suppressed.
Please don't hear this episode and think,
Okay.
I need to feel all of my feelings right now.
No,
That's not what I'm saying.
You need enough safety to feel what you're ready to feel.
Sometimes regulation means staying connected.
Sometimes regulation means taking a break.
Sometimes you need to distract yourself.
Distraction isn't automatically unhealthy.
Sometimes,
You genuinely need.
.
.
A break from thinking about something.
The question isn't,
Am I ever allowed to distract myself?
It's,
Do I have choices?
Can I feel?
Can I pause?
Can you distract?
Can you reek neck?
Can?
You return.
That's flexibility!
And flexibility is the goal.
So the next time you notice yourself reaching for something automatically,
I challenge you to pause for 10 seconds.
And ask yourself.
What am I feeling?
And then.
.
.
What do I need?
You don't necessarily have to deny yourself the thing that you're reaching for.
I'm just encouraging you to add awareness.
Maybe you still eat the cookie.
Maybe you still watch the show.
Maybe you still scroll.
But now you know.
I'm overwhelmed.
Or I'm lonely.
Or I need comfort.
That awareness matters.
Because eventually.
.
.
You may discover another way to meet that meet.
All right,
I wanna speak.
Directly to the mama who finds herself disappearing.
If you've been the woman who disappears into her phone,
Or into food,
Or into work,
Or into sleep,
Or into caring for everyone else.
I want you to know.
You don't need to hate that part of yourself.
She's trying to get you through something.
And maybe she doesn't have to do it alone anymore.
Maybe you can learn to stay with yourself.
Just for a moment.
Then another.
And another.
Mama,
Your coping mechanisms aren't character flaws.
They're strategies.
Some may still serve you,
And some might not.
And some may simply need to be used less often while you build other options.
So instead of asking yourself,
What's wrong with me?
Try.
.
.
What am I trying to get away from?
And then ask yourself.
.
.
What would help me feel safe enough to stay present?
That's a different conversation.
And it does not begin with shame.
It begins with curiosity.