We've Got Safety All Wrong

When I look back to reminisce on any year, a camera roll flashes in my mind full of the people and places that filled my days. The images whir by in shades of green and brown - the colors of trees and wooded landscapes - and varying shades of tan and white - the color of teeth on smiling faces. Last year, in between the hues of the outdoors, there were glimmers of blue and cream - the color of hospital floors and CT scan machines.

My camera roll from last year plays back to me what lay on the surface - many hospital rooms, needles, and big whirring machines - but what my camera roll didn’t show was what was going on underneath my skin. My doctors shared that commonality with my camera roll; the days flashed on, one blurring into the next and no diagnosis came.

I’ll spare you the details of my chronic stomach condition because it was ugly. Day in and out, my decisions and mindset were driven by the twists and turns and bloats of my stomach. My own intestines had tied me up and held me prisoner, begging that I find a solution to our shared pain. I made witchy natural concoctions that proved to hold no magic before selling my soul to big pharma - I was willing to try anything, but the plastic-coated chemicals turned out to cause even more writhing in pain. I tried mediation apps and every laxative brand that color-coated store shelves. Every medical report came back clean while my emergency fund quickly reached pit bottom. I felt desperate and finally hopeless when my stomach stole the smile from my face.

It took nearly 8 months to find a diagnosis. I was expecting to find a gnarly parasite or some disease whose name was so long it almost sounded foreign. The diagnosis came not from lab reports nor a doctor’s care, the diagnosis came through a slow and sustained realization that I was suffering from everyone’s least favorite next-door neighbor: anxiety.

At first, I felt so silly for spending so much time at the doctor’s office, taking medication, and crafting at-home remedies for my answer to come down to a term I had passed around so light-heartedly for the past 10 years of my life. Just anxiety, seriously? Now, in place of silliness, I feel awakened, awakened to the fact that anxiety is not just the racing heart and restlessness I believed it to be. Anxiety can take on the form of chronic illness, an illness that controls your mind and drives your decisions. The scariest part about anxiety is that it can slowly creep into the driver’s seat without you even being consciously aware that it took your hands off the steering wheel and replaced it with theirs.

At the time, my life on paper looked seamless. I had just gone through my second promotion at work, I was spending my free time climbing outside - the exact way I would have dreamed it up, I was deeply in love and finding friends that gave me a sense of belonging. However, underneath the picturesque resume, my job robbed me of my sense of self; I woke up every morning questioning what value I was bringing. I wanted to water the earth but my watering can kept breaking. I sat still at my desk but my mind was sweating from running laps searching for a place to pour my heart into. I was falling into feeling worthless.

During this time, there was never anything on the surface to be scared of, but underneath my skin, I feared worthlessness deeply - and the feeling of worthlessness has always struck a chord within me.

In my past few blogs, the topic of fear has come up consistently - this is not by design but rather through realizing how deep fear runs in dictating the state of our minds and bodies. This past week I learned about a concept called Polyvagal Theory that explained what remained unexplained for so long to me about anxiety, fear, and now my chronic stomach issues.

An Introduction to Polyvagal Theory:

Polyvagal Theory focuses on our physiological state, offering us a language to see what is underneath the skin and behavior. Through Polyvagal Theory we understand that we see and interact with the world as a function of our physiology. Safety is a state our bodies are in constant pursuit of with feelings of safety emerging from internal physiological states regulated by the autonomic nervous system.

Polyvagal Theory suggests that feelings of safety are an objective science rather than the subjective science that we have long believed it to be. This means that there mustn’t always be an external threat or the presence of danger in order to trigger a lack of safety. When we feel safe, our nervous system supports the homeostatic functions of health and growth; feelings of safety are the foundation for our ability to survive through trusting opportunities and social engagements. Similarly, when we feel unsafe, those feelings arise from internal physiological states, influencing our mental and physical health, social relationships, behavior, and cognitive processes.

What I find most interesting about this theory is that it suggests, as opposed to long-held psychological beliefs, that social behavior cannot be taught or conditioned as much as we think. Pro-social behavior arises out of emotionally regulated states. We can identify an individual's response history and reward or punish it accordingly only to a certain extent. This type of behavior modification is good at upregulating the behaviors that you want to see but not so good at down-regulating behaviors that you don’t want to see. In the long run, this type of behavior modification doesn't stop the behavior, it forces a physiological shutdown and withdrawal. This state of disassociation is what we may refer to as trauma.

So what have we learned?

• We learned that safety means that the body feels safe enough to regulate its internal organs and spontaneously socially engage with others.

• We learned that safety, through the lens of Polyvagal Theory, is an objective science rather than a subjective science. This means that we need to shift our focus from a history of events to a history of feelings in order to understand trauma.

and how does this tie back to anxiety-induced disorders?

• In my case, the feelings of unworthiness were tied back to a history of feeling unworthy. My autonomic nervous system was dysregulated and my internal physiological states were reflective of a lack of safety. I tried my best to upregulate the behaviors that I wanted to see: productivity and achievement, but I was struggling to down-regulate the behavior demonstrative of anxiety. This lack of safety was triggered by a fear of not providing value or impact at work and in my general life - ergo cue the bout an anxiety-induced IBS.

We live in a culture of tough love and tough lessons. We teach by saying, “if I survived it, you should too”, completely neglecting to realize the history of feelings that is starkly unique to every human being. In a culture that thrives on tough love and a belief that safety is a subjective science, it is hard to heal in a manageable and meaningful way.

Through my own healing journey, which is ongoing, I have adopted the following practices: 

1. Be a better listener, both to myself and to others. Ditch the fixer’s mindset that focuses on “problems” and develop different language to have a conversation that focuses on what lies underneath our skin and behavior. Recognize that someone may be experiencing a lack of safety even if there is no imminent threat present in their life.

2. Honor what your body is trying to tell you. The Polyvagal Theory is a theory of embodiment: a science that sees the mind and body as being inseparable from one another as it pertains to well-being. Homeostasis can only be achieved when both the mind and body are in a regulated state through the autonomic nervous system. Be aware of your physiological state because it will serve to be the foundational platform from which your behavior emerges. This awareness gives you a method of honoring your body’s reactivity to certain events and feelings rather than making you a prisoner of them.

3. The narrative we tell ourselves justifies our physiological state. Learn to create space between the physiological experience you’re having and the story that you tell yourself about it.

If you, like me, struggle with anxiety, I hope my personal account and learnings can help to provide some clarity. My inbox is open, always, if you want to chat. If you enjoyed this post, please consider sharing it with a friend. Thanks for being here and see you next week!