We all have them – those deeply ingrained survival strategies that kick in when life becomes overwhelming. Mine? I emotionally shut down and push through, head down, soldiering on. It’s so automatic that I often don’t even realise I’m doing it.
This week, my survival mode was gently called out during a conversation with my supervisor. When she mentioned that I was sounding tired, I initially brushed it off with surprise. “Tired? No more than usual,” I responded, offering some vague explanation about minor daily stresses.
It wasn’t until later, sitting alone in my car during the school run, that her words really sank in. The previous day had been extraordinarily demanding – I’d absorbed an enormous amount of emotional weight at work, holding space for multiple intense situations. Then, like many working parents, I’d switched straight into “mum mode” at home – tackling household chores, including the ever-present vacuuming.
The moment I allowed myself to acknowledge my supervisor’s observation, exhaustion crashed over me like a wave. The rest of my day’s productivity went out the window, and I found myself on the sofa that evening with a glass of wine and mindless TV for company. While I’m not advocating alcohol as a coping mechanism – it’s not my usual go-to – in that moment, it felt like exactly the form of self-care I needed. For once, I gave myself permission to feel utterly depleted without any self-imposed demands.
What fascinates me most about this experience is how seamlessly my old survival strategy had activated without my awareness. Despite years of working on staying present with my emotions and processing them through my body, here I was, unconsciously reverting to my default shutdown mode. It took someone else’s perspective to shine a light on what I couldn’t see myself.
This experience prompted me to reflect on how our survival strategies, while essential in certain periods of our lives, might not serve us as well in our journey toward more conscious living. These automatic responses deserve our attention and understanding, not our judgment – after all, they’ve helped us navigate difficult times.
I’m curious about your own experiences with this. What automatic responses have you noticed in yourself? Which survival strategies, while once crucial, might no longer be serving your present self? Sometimes, simply becoming aware of these patterns is the first step toward choosing how we want to respond, rather than letting our unconscious programming run the show.
What survival modes are you ready to acknowledge?