I’ve been in pretty much a continual state of scanning for threats, hazards, or the next catastrophe for the greater part of my life. Rarely was it a deliberate or conscious process, and it was often even below perception. But it was simply how my brain operated. My nervous system was set to anticipate threat, even in the absence of anything obvious.
Still, something has been changing of late. Less of that sense of impending doom has been there. The rug no longer feels as though it’s ready to come out from under me. And although it sounds like a wonderful thing (and it is), I’ve also observed something I didn’t anticipate: when i feel no sense of danger, I feel essentially… blank.
I never would have anticipated this from my healing process—that the lack of tension might feel nearly intolerable. It makes sense nonetheless. When hypervigilance has been your default habit for years—perhaps even decades—what happens when it quiets down?
Hypervigilance: When Life Feels Like an Ongoing Crisis
The nervous system maintains a state of hypervigilance to be ready for danger. Particularly in childhood, this survival mechanism develops as a reaction to trauma or ongoing stress. Staying on high alert helps prevent harm—whether that means avoiding conflict, keeping ahead of someone’s moods, or predicting the next problem before it starts—when the surroundings are unpredictable or dangerous.
This increased awareness doesn’t just turn off for trauma survivors when the threat disappears. It becomes the baseline condition. We’re constantly scanning for danger, occasionally even creating it to occupy the void. But what if nothing seems clearly wrong? That can seem strange, almost as though something is missing.
What Happens When the Crisis Stops?
This shift started to become more obvious for me once I closed my acupuncture office. And though it’s not really been the case, part of me worried that I would lose my motivation without the pressure of operating a business. I’ve found that there’s an odd sense of emptiness without an immediate stressor to occupy my attention.
It felt disturbing at first. It helped me to recognize how much of my energy had been directed toward stress management instead of simple existence. I wasn’t sure what to concentrate on without one since I had grown so accustomed to thinking there was always some sort of issue to address.
It dawned on me then that hypervigilance had come to define my perception of the world as much as it helped me to avoid dangers. I wasn’t sure who I was meant to be without a crisis or an issue to resolve.
Moving from Crisis Mode to Calm Presence
Healing goes beyond the simple relief of suffering. It also teaches us how to live in peace and without feeling lost. Learning to function without stress takes time when we have spent years depending on it for guidance.
Here are some of the things I’m beginning to explore:
- Seeing the void for what it is. Rather than reading this blankness as a threat, I see it as space—space to explore, create, or just exist without a crisis to justify my presence.
- Fighting the need to close the void with fresh stressors. Replacing one stressor with another seems enticing in order to reduce discomfort. I’ve reminded myself, though, that being productive or valuable does not depend on me always being in a crisis state.
- Shifting my attention. I’m learning to scan for opportunities—things that pique my interest, creativity, or even just a calm sense of satisfaction—rather than for potential threats.
- Recognizing that something other than fear can become a source of motivation. There is no survival pressure or stress required to drive me forward. It can result from something more in line with my own values and interests—something deeper.
Learning to Trust Stability
Stability can seem like a fragile state to trauma survivors. We’re used to anticipating things going wrong, falling apart, to being taken away. Eventually, though, the nervous system has to learn that it’s acceptable to be steady. Meaning in life doesn’t depend on being in a continual state of alertness.
I’m not claiming I’ve solved this all myself. Patterns of hypervigilance do not vanish over night. But I am seeing a shift, and am beginning to let myself embrace it rather than fight it.
Perhaps healing is learning how to embrace living in a calmer, more open state without depending on a crisis to define who we are.