The last bed & the womb of a doctor
Something we can actually do to help, shaking it like a dog + the importance of completing the stress cycle
When the voices began to take over and the world around me became mine no longer, it was time to go in. It was time to admit myself to the psych ward.
There was only a short window to make it to the hospital in those moments — one entirely dependent upon the lucid sliver of my psychotic existence — the rapidly shrinking part of me that was aware enough to know: I was in danger. I was about to hurt myself. And I needed help to safely make it through.
Sometimes in these moments, the window of opportunity closed before I could ask for help and I was lost to a fugue state only to find myself a day or so later in the woods of Vermont. But other times, I made the call — the call I dreaded, the call that broke my heart, and my parents' entire being — the call that told them my mind was hellbent on killing me and I couldn’t trust it or myself any longer.
Although the horror of my psychosis was brutal in its entirety, the true fight began after I made that call to my parents. This was the fight to get me into inpatient care and find me an available bed.
Now, I know that sounds ridiculous. How could getting a bed be harder than fighting a mind hellbent on ending itself? And yet, it was and still is the hardest part of living with serious mental illness for many people in that situation.
In a world where we have pioneered trips to the moon, the internet, and engineered AI to find patterns in a mountain of data, we have still not yet figured out how to help those suffering and fighting for their lives. No, we have not figured out this challenge at all.
And, especially for people like me who live with serious mental illness, there is never enough help to go around. There are never enough therapists, therapy groups, or treatment programs to care for us.
But unlike my friends and peers who lived through similar psychosis-induced mental health crises, I never suffered through the full hell of that reality. For as much of a fight as it was for me to function on a daily basis, simply because I came from the womb of a doctor and not the womb of a teacher or plumber or painter or poet, my experience after I asked for help actually resulted in help.
Yes, simply because I was born into a family of doctors, a reality I had no hand in whatsoever, my experience was inexplicably privileged for after I made the call, my parents made their own. My call was merely the top of the privileged patient phone tree. But this phone tree did not bring with it the message of a snow day or soccer practice being cancelled like the phone trees of my childhood. This one held my life in its branches. This one held urgency and the strings it pulled were the only reason I got the care I so desperately needed when I asked for it.
Yes, this phone tree was the only reason I got a bed – a safe place to rest my mad mind until the antipsychotics brought me back to earth a few days later.
Over the ten or so years I navigated intermittent psychosis, I was admitted to the psych ward twenty-one times and every single one of those twenty-one times, I took the last bed available in the unit. Rather, every single one of those twenty-one times, I was *given* the last bed in the unit because I was born from the womb of a doctor.
There isn’t a day that goes by where I don’t reckon with this — where every cubic inch of oxygen is sucked from my chest in panic as tears crest in rage, grief, shame and guilt. These moments catch me all the time actually — mid-stride on a chilly dog walk, two sips into my morning coffee, and every single night as I close my eyes, knowing— living—breathing the truth that I am safe and sound in a loving home having actually survived this broken system when so many of my friends did not even get the chance to make it out alive.
Yes, there isn’t a day that goes by where I don’t reckon with the screams from the single mother who was in the ER room next to mine or the paranoid muttering from the elderly man down the hall from us — and the truth – the very real truth – that I took the last bed from them. Yes, I took the last bed from them. I sacrificed their well-being for my own. I made it out alive only because I took care away from an equally deserving, suffering human being.
For as long as I have been out of the ward, I have wished I could go back and give them the last bed. But as much as I have pleaded with the pages of my journal and even the heavens above, I can’t go back in time. I can’t go back and sacrifice myself for them or trade their mother’s womb for my own.
No, as much as I have pleaded and begged and wept and raged, I cannot go back and fix the vast inequality that we were all born into – that we were all sentenced to the very day we came into the light and arrived earthside, once and for all.
But today, as I stand on free ground, as I stride on chilly dog walks, sip my coffee and go to bed safe and sound each night in a loving home, I can fight for them.
Yes, I can fight for them.
I can rise each morning and as the grief and guilt build in my chest, I can show up for them the way my parents did for me.
I can make the call to give them a fighting chance to survive as I ask you to do the same.
My ask to you – an ask that has solutions so long as we all show up:
Please help me convince Vermont’s legislature to prioritize health care reform.
Right now, Vermont’s healthcare system is on the verge of collapse. Now, I know there are crises after crises right now and I know the world all feels like too much. I really do because it is too much. It absolutely is.
I also know that the single greatest thing we can do for ourselves is to embody our agency — to prove we have the power to make a difference in our own lives and the lives of others. And right now — this problem — the collapsing healthcare system in Vermont — has an actual solution if we can get the Vermont legislature to prioritize health care reform.
So, if you are a Vermonter, please follow the link below and send the action alert letter I drafted to your representatives. The link auto populates the emails of your reps. All you have to do is add your name and town of residence. It takes less than a minute. Truly.
If you are not a Vermonter, and are willing to help, please text or email this action alert to your Vermont-based friends.
I would not ask if this were hopeless. I am only asking because I truly believe that WE CAN MAKE A DIFFERENCE IN BUILDING A WORLD THAT CARES FOR ALL TOGETHER. And for the love of all of us and this sweet earth, that is what I want more than anything.
This week’s experiment - shake it like a dog
Now, holy wow, after that and another week of the country feeling like it is on a dystopian roller-coaster, we all could use this nervous system regulation technique. And, I’ll be honest, probably because I love that I get to do it with my two girls, I am absolutely obsessed and can’t stop doing it. This technique is also downright hilarious and the giggles it offers are reason enough to try it out.
So, allow Tug to “teach you” the technique which needs no instructions and is done EXACTLY as it sounds…
How to shake it like a dog
Stand up, take a deep breath, and shake your arms, legs, and whole body for 30-60 seconds.
Let everything be loose – and if you’re visual, imagine you're literally shaking off stress.
After shaking for a minute or so, stop and notice how you feel.
If you care to, use the following writing prompt to explore it further
This week’s prompt
When was the last time you truly shook off stress? Not metaphorically, but physically—your whole body trembling, limbs loose, tension unraveling? Was it only when I asked you to? This week, explore what it was like in that past experience or just in the time you tried it right now? Did you feel silly? Could you surrender to the movement? Or were you preoccupied with what someone might think even if you were alone in the room? Explore and discuss your thoughts and describe all that comes up in the process of your reflection.
The science behind shaking it like a dog
Shaking like a dog helps your nervous system because it mimics the body's natural way of releasing stress and completing the stress cycle. Somehow, no one ever taught me there even was something called a stress cycle so when I first learned about this, I was shocked. But I refuse to let others miss out so, let me break down what this means for you.
The stress cycle is the biological process that the body goes through in response to stress, from activation to resolution. All of us, especially right now, are no stranger to stress. But many of us, due to the way modern life is set up, do not ever complete our stress cycles. When this happens and stress isn’t fully processed and released, it can remain in your body, leading to chronic tension, anxiety, and health issues on top of the normal exhaustion.
The stress cycle
Alarm stage – the activation of the sympathetic nervous system
I am guessing that nearly all of us reading this text are (unfortunately) professionals at experiencing this stage. It is when our bodies experience a threat. This threat can be real or perceived – and by that I mean it can be something physical, like a grizzly bear, or social, like when we are anxious to speak in public. When we perceive the threat – even if we know that, say, the guests at dinner party, are not going to murder us like a grizzly bear might, our sympathetic nervous system activates.
As we have discussed in past editions, this causes our adrenal glands to rapidly release adrenaline – which increases our heart rate and blood pressure, among other things. In addition to adrenaline flooding our system in times of stress, the Hypothalamic-Pituitary-Adrenal axis (a complex grouping of organs in our endocrine system) releases cortisol, which sustains energy levels by increasing blood sugar and keeps the body in high alert for prolonged periods of time.
The exact somatic experience that each of us experiences in times of sympathetic nervous system activation inevitably varies from person to person, but it can involve: heart racing, faster breathing, narrowing vision, muscle tension, heightened alertness, and shakiness.
Simply, this phase is hell – the hell that is anxiety.
Resistance stage — the sustained stress response
The resistance phase is the second stage of the stress response and occurs after the initial fight-or-flight reaction (alarm phase). This phase is all about sustaining the body's response to stress while attempting to maintain balance. Recently, with the help of my therapist, I learned I live in this phase more often than not.
In this phase, the hypothalamic-pituitary-adrenal (HPA) axis stays activated and this keeps cortisol levels high. This has many consequences but also brings with it a serious impact. In this phase, you can have increased energy and focus because cortisol ensures glucose is available to your body for sustained energy. Meanwhile, the cortisol also keeps your heart rate and blood pressure elevated so that you stay alert and helps your cognitive function and focus improve.
At the same time, in this phase, since your body believes you must stay in a state of having your sympathetic nervous system activated(fight or flight) to survive, your immune system is suppressed and your digestive and reproductive systems slow down. Basically, your body throws all its energy into surviving the moment and not preserving your existence long term. This, inevitably means the body becomes more prone to illness and inflammation, and also can experience hormonal imbalances and low libido.
As this happens – and oh how miserable we all know it to be – emotional and behavioral changes understandably occur. Just like the physical sensations of sympathetic nervous system activation, these changes can vary but they can look like: irritability, rage, feeling overwhelmed but pushing forward, feeling mentally exhausted yet wired, emotionally numb, or disconnected. Suffice it to say, this phase is brutal and many people resort to different coping strategies to manage it – alcohol, excessive caffeine, addiction, binge eating or working longer and longer hours to maintain productivity.
Now, herein lies the real kicker. Although for some people, when the stressor resolves, the body naturally shifts to release the energy — the third and final phase of the stress cycle — and move into recovery mode some people get stuck in the resistance phase because their neural pathways, nervous system, and body chemistry adapt to prolonged stress, making it their "default state." (Hello, party of me).
This is because chronic stress literally rewires the brain. The brain is plastic – constantly changing in response to experience. If someone constantly experiences stress, the brain strengthens the neural pathways associated with the fight-or-flight response. Over time, the nervous system learns to stay in a hypervigilant state, making stress feel "normal" and relaxation feel "unsafe." When this happens, the amygdala (the fear center of our brain that seeks out potential problems) becomes constantly overactive and the prefrontal cortex (logic, emotional regulation) becomes less effective.
Not only does this feel terrible, it also leads to difficulty calming down, even when the stressor is gone. Some signs you might be stuck in resistance phase are: having constant fatigue but feeling unable to rest, having frequent headaches or muscle tension, experiencing digestive issues (bloating, nausea, incontinence, constipation), having a weakened immune system (frequent colds, allergies flaring up), difficulty concentrating or memory problems, going through mood swings, or feeling emotionally flat.
If this continues and stress remains chronic and unresolved, your body then enters the exhaustion phase — where the nervous system is depleted, and burnout can occur.
BUT there is good news — Since being stuck in the resistance phase is a learned pattern and learned neural pathway, it can be unlearned through nervous system regulation and new neural pathways. This is why I am doing this whole thing in the first place – I am trying to experiment with different nervous system techniques to teach my brain and build neural pathways that FINISH the darn stress cycle – that allow me to actually rest and recover.
The (release and) exhaustion — the final phase
Though we are all undoubtedly aware of the lived experience of exhaustion after stressful experiences, there is part of the final phase that is often overlooked — the release. This is all about engaging in physical activities to release the energy from your body and activate the parasympathetic nervous system. This release takes many forms. It can involve physical movement, breathwork, crying, social connection, touch, play, music, or artistic expression. But, no matter the form, it empowers the body and mind to connect fully and feel safe — to know that the threat has passed. It is this release that actually allows us to finish the stress cycle and enter a state of rest and recovery.
Unlike the first two phases of the stress cycle, where our body’s autonomic nervous system automatically takes the lead, sometimes our conscious selves must do so here, especially in modern life where threats are rarely physical in nature. What I mean by this is that when a grizzly bear is chasing a human and the stress cycle begins, the act of running away and climbing a tree to survive offers the release and finishes the cycle. However, when you get a stressful work email or are public speaking, you can’t necessarily go for a run and climb a tree to release the stress and finish the cycle.
This is where an understanding of the stress cycle and release experiments like those I share each week becomes extremely valuable. And no matter which release technique you use, whether it's a breathwork practice or shaking it like a dog, it can offer you the ability to complete the stress cycle no matter where you are, therefore empowering true recovery and your body’s natural healing processes to function as they are intended to as you navigate the resulting exhaustion.
Okay. Wowza. I am such a nerd! So, now that we understand the stress cycle, the organs involved, and the importance of completing it, why does shaking actually do so?
Well, it’s quite simple. Shaking mimics a natural trauma response. As you have likely seen in your own dog or a friend’s pup, many animals instinctively shake after a stressful event to release the tension from their bodies physically. We can do the same thing. Shaking discharges the adrenaline and cortisol in your system, loosens tight muscles, promotes better circulation and empowers our mind/body connection – all of which activate the parasympathetic nervous system. Together this empowers your body and mind’s understanding that the threat has passed and you can finally, truly rest.
So, now that I have FULLY geeked out on the importance of shaking it like a dog, are you all gonna give it a try or what?
Well, I hope so and I hope it brings you a laugh and some decreased tension. And now, I’m off to walk my dogs because, although shaking it like one can finish the stress cycle, walking sure keeps the cycles at bay.
I hope you all tread lightly on yourself the rest of the weekend.
And as always,
I wish you a day.
Kindly,
Kate
Yes, you were very privileged and very lucky to get those last beds. I was lucky in that I entered the psych system as a child, and my child/adolescent psychiatrist—and later my adult psychiatrist— took an interest in me. So I got the last beds, because all my mom and dad had to do was contact them or have them be called while I was in the ER. Because I got the last beds, and because I ended up doing a lot of healing in my last residential facility, I am alive. Several others I knew are not here today. I am not well, but I am stable, and a million miles from where I was. So on the days I struggle to fight for myself, I fight for them and the access to care they should have been able to get. We are the survivors. I mourn my friends, and I’m glad you are still here with me.
What a beautiful, powerful, moving piece. Thank you.