You know when you get an unexplainable pain in one finger? You know it’ll disappear in a minute, and you’ll never know what happened. It’s kinda like that with shutdowns – when the body and brain dissociate to press pause on life for a while. You don’t know how long that minute will be, but at least you have the chance to over time figure out your triggers and learn why they happen – in opposite to the mystery finger pain.
Yesterday was a shitty day.
It all started the evening before, when we got a call ending in expecting visitors the next day. People I normally adore, but for a few reasons I couldn’t stand thinking about having anybody over at all. I immediately started thinking of ways to escape, to be alone. My body went into freeze response, and for the rest of the evening I just sat by the kitchen table and stared at nothing.
The morning after was no different from the night before. I tried to fight myself through it and stay in a good enough mood, but the panic was once again building up on the inside. What was I supposed to do all day? I definitely couldn’t stay there at least, so far I knew. I continued to search for a solution, but my brain was blocked. I just had to leave…
The sound of a car parking on the driveway had me loosing my last little bit of control. I felt so trapped! I started crying, and was escorted to the bedroom before our visitors arrived inside. Then I sat there on the bed and cried quietly for an hour until my crying resources were depleted. Four hours went by. I made an attempt to be human again when I heard they had left, but quickly ended up back in the bed crying again.
So that was fun… What can we learn from this episode?
Shutdowns suck, why do we need them?
You’ve probably heard about the fight or flight system before. When we experience strong stress, the brain and body decides it’s time for survival mode and choose the most appropriate reaction to the stress. The reaction chosen depends on your previous conditioning and trauma. What many don’t know, however, is that there is more nuance to it than just “fight” or “flight”. There are actually considered to be four different responses, which are called fight, flight, freeze or fawn:
- Fight: Defence by agression, control and power.
- Flight: Escaping and avoiding the situation. Can turn into anxiety and panic.
- Freeze: Unability to move and act, loosing contact with feelings.
- Fawn: People-pleasing and flattering to avoid conflict.
These are part of how the nervous system works to keep us alive, and are as much involuntary, as they are automatic mechanisms to help you survive life threathening situations. They get ingrained in our bodies from past trauma, and while there are ways to work with our bodies to better regulate and balance the nervous system to avoid situations like this – once you’re in it you may as well ride the wave until you gain some form of control back.
A “shutdown” is a form of freeze response, where the brain and body simply disconnects from each other. It is often referred to in neurodivergent contexts, but may happen to any person predisposed to it regardless of having a diagnosis or not. In both cases, a shutdown happens as a response to immense stress – just as with the other F’s mentioned. You may feel like you want help or support, but the act of forcing out a single word or even shift the eyes’ gaze seem impossible.
From my example above, we can read that my nervous system immediately recognized a threat the day before, and prepared by initiating a slight flight response. I’m always close to a freeze (or a shutdown), but as I’ve been working with myself I’ve gained the luxury of increasing time between the initial flight response until the body shuts down completely. In the beginning, when I wasn’t aware of this pattern, I’d have no idea where the panic came from, or why I suddenly couldn’t express a single word or emotion.
When you’re at the point of having a full blown shutdown, there’s no point in trying to escape the dissociation. The body is in full blown panic mode, but one that doesn’t show on the outside. Because it’s an internal struggle and not acting out, it’s really important to inform your partner or support person about the condition beforehand, so that they know what’s happening if and when it happens. A well-meaning partner that just wants to help can easily turn the situation even worse by asking a lot of questions and showing concern.
An important note on “immense stress”
It’s not up to you to decide wether or not something is stressful. The body takes care of that for you. This is why a short phone call, or a trip to the grocery store on the wrong day, can turn into a huge breakdown. You don’t really need to understand it, you just need to recognize that it happens, and figure out the best way from there.
The best way to live through a shutdown
Your body needs love and support to realize it’s in a safe space, and let go of the chokehold it has on the brain. This “love and support” will look different for everyone, so it’s a good thing to get to know yourself and take note of things that calm you down, or that make you feel extra comfortable in different scenarios. If you have someone that loves you by your side, this can mean hugs, understanding, and, most importantly, space to be you. To be escorted to the bedroom without a word by my partner was the best thing that could’ve happened to me right then and there. No decisions, no extra sensory inputs, just trusting that he’ll keep me safe.
If you’re alone, you might not have much choice depending on the severity of your state when you recognize it. Trying to remove yourself from the situation will always be the best approach, and if other people are present this can literally mean having to leave without saying a word. Explanations can come afterward.
A good place to start is to prepare a safe zone in your home, yet one more thing we can learn from the neurodivergent community. A safe zone is a place to retreat to. It should be cozy, calm, and easy. Have a blanket, pillows, black out curtains – whatever you need to give you that extra bit of comfort without any added stress. For example, a deep and soft couch would be a nightmare for me and make the situation so much worse – yet for another person it sounds like heaven to crawl down into and never get up from.
The aftermath & what to expect
If you’ve read the whole post, you now know that a shutdown happens as an automatic trauma response, that’s been triggered by something in the environment. However big or small this trigger in the environment may seem, it sends the body into survival mode, hanging on for dear life. This act, of fighting to survive, isn’t a small feat and will definitely take it’s toll on the nervous system for a good while after the shutdown has happened. An episode like the one I detailed above, that held on for several hours, I know will take me at least one full day to recover from. A shorter episode will be easier to return from, but they all place their mark on the nervous system that gets more fragile in the aftermath.
As a rule of thumb, never try to force yourself into doing something the same day. And take it real easy the next day. I’m usually advocating for keeping daily tasks that you know will make your life easier tomorrow, but after a nervous system shutdown like this I’m hell not going to do the dishes if I even manage to eat something! That is, if I don’t actually have the energy for it. If something needs to be forced – you don’t have the energy for it.
