Who Are You When Things Fall Apart?

light after the storm has passed

How do you react when something unpredictable, unthinkable, or tragic upends your life without warning? When the unforeseen knocks on your door, when a staggering event brings you to your knees, when something so big, so shocking, so life-altering ruptures all sense of stability, obliterates any semblance of normality?

The death of a loved one. The demise of a close friendship. A miscarriage after months of trying. A near death experience. Losing a job after giving it your all. A natural disaster destroying your home.An unexpected health diagnosis. A brutal divorce. A betrayal you didn't see coming. A catastrophic accident that changes everything.

Do you know yourself in such a moment, one with a clear before and after, one where you can no longer go on in the same way you once did? When the life you once knew is ripped away in an instant, do you recognize your instinctual reactions, your coping strategies and behaviors? How you respond to something so entirely beyond your control?

Do you know who are you when things fall apart?

The Body’s Response to the Unimaginable

When something stuns you to your core, are you aware of what’s happening in your body at the most intimate, visceral level? Can you recognize the sensations, those immediate impulses and urges, as you brace against the collision of the tragedy playing out before you? How does your nervous system respond in those initial moments after impact?

There can be a tendency to freeze, where your body shuts down. Your mind goes blank, your body shifts to autopilot, overwhelmed by the intensity of it all. Maybe you look functional on the outside, attending to tasks, executing with precision, but inside your body is contracted, rigid, and unyielding. Disembodied. Closed off. Unable to sense anything below the neck. Suspended in that moment of horror, incapable of truly processing, integrating, and moving forward.

There can be a tendency to flee, where your body seeks an escape. You’re no longer present, living in an illusion, a self-induced delusion eclipses reality, masking any reminders of the misfortune that’s just torpedoed your world. Numbing and distracting. Feigning a sense of normality. Anything to drown out your inner agony. If your body can’t run, your mind leaves without you.

There can be a tendency to fight, where your body kicks into high gear. Your stress response takes charge, you leap into action, determined to dominate so you aren’t engulfed. Highly alert, hypervigilant, ready to go to battle and defend against all threats. Attacking any problems or obstacles you encounter. Aggravated. Triggered. Activated in the extreme.

There can be a tendency to fawn, where your body elects to accommodate and please. You pretend the situation’s alright, nothing’s actually the matter. Self-denial as self-protection (in exchange for self-abandonment). Docile and timid on the outside, cowering within. Deferring. Pandering. Going along to get along. Reluctant to face an unknown threat, preferring the one to which you’re accustomed.

Which one of these patterns allows you to withstand the shock, ensure a sense of safety, guarantee your survival? Which one does your body unconsciously adopt in times of crisis?

The Mind’s Search for Meaning

How does your mind comprehend a calamity of such magnitude? When your sense of self’s been shattered, your identity annihilated, are you aware of the mental discourse running on a loop as your mind searches for resolution?

Perhaps your brain falls into chaos, seeking answers and explanations. Trying to make sense of the illogical, to grasp the implausible, make meaning out of that which is utterly impossible to understand or believe. To answer the question that matters above all else: who are you now, when a loss so grave collapses the life you once knew?

Perhaps your mind stays stuck in denial, grappling with the devastation, the decimation, the defeat. Or do your patterns play on repeat: the agitated thoughts, the ragged ruminations, the talking and venting in partial disbelief. Frantic rationalizations. Elaborate justifications. Bargaining for a different outcome, your mind playing all the tricks, if only, what if?

Perhaps you lean into the injustice, the righteous indignation, pressuring others to take your side, adopt your version as their own. Your mind desperate to shape the narrative, to control the story that gets told. Flaunting your despair, painting your circumstances as harsh and unfair, casting yourself as the victim of your tale.

Perhaps this catastrophe provokes examination, a time for reflection and introspection. You begin to ask the questions, contemplate the answers, ponder the options: Do you have what it takes to let go of the way things were? Or do you cling to your old reality, do your utmost to get it back? Are you the type of person who can overcome and endure? Or do you decide life is over as you knew it, it’s all downhill from here?

When the ground gives way beneath you, when you can’t fully fathom what’s taken place, which option does your mind embrace? Do you notice which story is playing in your head?

The Emotional Landscape After Impact

When all the difficult emotions arise, the shock and pain, the unrelenting mix of panic, anxiety, and terror, do you have the capacity to stay present with what you feel? How do you engage and process what comes up after something so unimaginable, so severe has just taken place?

Some of us drown in our despair, overwhelmed by the intensity, the unbearable reality, an unfathomable disaster that we’re powerless to change. Unequipped to regulate or self-soothe, to sit with our misery, to acknowledge what needs to be felt and held. The intensity provoking isolation, withdrawal, or even addiction to anesthetize the pain.

Some of us avoid our emotions entirely, refusing to fall apart, to shed a tear for what’s transpired. Resolved to stay strong and keep it all together. To dilute the impact, minimize the drama, curtail the hysteria, and downplay the fallout. Erecting barricades to block out any fear and sadness, anger and grief. Intellectualizing over experiencing. Solving all the problems. Lacking the skills to surrender.

Some of us hold space for our depth of feeling, stay present through the mess, accept the emotional storm for what it is, confront the tumult and inner anguish that reverberate throughout our being. Exercise our capacity, our internal resources to feel our feelings fully, riding the highs and lows, witnessing our unraveling as we face the hurt and heartache.

Some of us glance forward, noticing a subtle sense of hope too minute to be measured, the quiet relief at the chance to start over, a faint anticipation of what’s to come our way. Maybe we’re a little lighter, slightly more buoyant, just a tad upbeat. A confusing contradiction, to keep the faith amid such upheaval. But just enough to soften, to lend the promise of possibility, to hold opposing truths without dropping either.

When your emotions come, do you meet them or manage them? Can you hold the full weight of what you feel and trust you’ll make it through to the other side?

Standing at the Threshold of What’s Next

Once you’ve survived the early days and the acute intensity begins to wane, when things start to shift and you enter the liminal space…the doubt, the confusion, the uncertainty and disorientation, all present as you stand at the threshold…all your big decisions, past choices up for review…

The questions become more pressing as you wonder what happens next, what this transition means, whether you’re equipped to navigate.

What is it you want out of life, now that the dust has settled? Are you fulfilled or are you searching? What needs to change or shift?

How quickly do you crave to return to what's safe or familiar? To the predictable and dependable?

Or are you able to breathe through it, let yourself wait at the crossroad as you orient inward and consult your inner knowing. Can you hang out in the in-between, the uncertainty, the unknown with no scheduled end in sight?

As you climb through the wreckage of your former self, coming up against all the loss, can you grieve the earlier version of yourself, the parts you weren't yet ready to part with? The death of ego and identity, the demise of innocence or ignorance. The departure from stability. All torn away by a disruption too great to ignore.

Now that you’ve begun to process, to integrate and take stock, is it time to turn the page, write the next chapter, seek a new ending?

What happens if you choose to linger here just a little longer?

An Invitation Inside the Upheaval

When something fundamental about our world alters, when something we once took for granted can no longer be counted on, when all sense of normal collapses beneath our feet, our survival patterns kick in and we immediately grasp for some sense of normalcy or familiarity, anything to dampen down the swell of chaos and intensity. Anything to make things return to the way they were.

Yet amidst all this turmoil, lies an invitation, an initiation into something new. Those moments, the ones that demand our full attention, are ones that wake us up if we let them.

We can't predict or prevent the big shocks from coming, as life is never fully within our control. Things shift, impermanence unfolds, difficult things happen. But we can approach them with presence, we can show up fully, lean into the experience, wrestle with the change in a conscious way.

And in doing so we open a space for something new that didn't previously exist to come through. To orient toward something new, different, and perhaps unexpected. The possibility of charting a new course. Or exploring a path previously unexamined.

And that starts with awareness. It means deepening our knowledge of how we instinctively respond in the moments that test us and building our capacity to show up with more presence, to fully experience and participate. Awareness means an increased capacity to choose once the dust has settled, to regain control over our next decisions, to step back into the role of authority over our own lives. Awareness affords the possibility to navigate with clear alignment as we take our next steps.

Who are you when things fall apart? And perhaps more importantly, who do you want to be?


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Sarah Devi | Somatic Educator and Practitioner

While I've been following my curiosity to learn and study all things women's health and wellness for the past decade, I write, guide, and create primarily from my own lived experience as a woman in this world.

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