Your Brain is Doing Its Job… A Little Too Well.

Ever feel like your brain is stuffed with cotton balls? Like no matter how much sleep you get, you’re still running on 1% battery—without a charger in sight? Or that the words you desperately need decide to play an impromptu game of hide-and-seek the moment you try to use them? Yeah—this is brain fog. It’s the result of your brain’s overwhelm, from its way back-ass-wards way, of trying to keep you safe… while also acting like an overprotective parent who won’t let you leave the house without a helmet, knee pads, and a full-body bubble wrap suit.

Your brain isn’t broken—it’s just doing its job a little too well. Brain fog, exhaustion, and mental blocks aren’t random. Nor do they mean you, the human, are beyond repair. They’re the result of an evolutionary function built into your brain-body connection, designed to protect you by storing valuable information and having the foresight to anticipate potential threats. But when trauma gets involved? That system can go into overdrive, leaving you stuck in a haze of confusion, fatigue, and why-did-I-just-walk-into-this-room moments.

I wanna take a human moment with you to explore what trauma is to your 3lb-electric-meatball between the ears and why it’s not as scary as it sounds. It’s not as complicated as some would have you think.

Let’s Define Trauma

Trauma, by definition, is any experience that triggers a survival response loud enough to leave a lasting imprint on your brain and body. These survival-based impressions create high-fire neural pathways—think of them as cognitive Audubon. No speed limits. No stop signs. And the more heavily traveled they are, the deeper the grooves they carve into your brain… literally!

These grooves, known as gyri and sulci in the cerebral cortex, are what make your brain uniquely (you)nique. No two brains are the same because no two people have lived the same experiences. Your brain is sculpted by your past, whether you consciously remember it or not.

But here’s where we trip ourselves up: we often equate trauma with only the gnarliest, most extreme human experiences. This leads many of us to discredit our own pain, thinking, Well, it wasn’t that bad. But here’s the deal—trauma isn’t about how “bad” something looks on paper. The physiological response? More or less the same across the board.

Emotional and mental wounds pack just as much punch as physical ones. And if you’ve ever felt off—mentally foggy, overwhelmed, or scattered—your brain might still be carrying the weight of past experiences.

How Trauma Gets Stuck in the Body

I learned this firsthand when I got into a car accident in high school. It happened right in front of the student parking lot—smack dab in the middle of lunch rush hour. My stepdad’s car, totaled. Me? Standing there, mortified, as the entire student body watched my very public misfortune unfold.

Physically, I was fine. But emotionally? That moment became the catalyst for a mentally and emotionally abusive relationship—one that came coupled with sexual abuse and lasted just north of three years. The blast of the airbag didn’t just hit my body; it imprinted itself onto my nervous system, my trauma center, and my somatic body.

The somatic body is the part of your peripheral nervous system that connects sensory organs with emotional processing in both brain and body. When a survival signal is too overwhelming for the brain to fully process, the excess gets stashed in the body, like an overstuffed junk drawer waiting to be opened.

This is why people with PTSD don’t just remember trauma—they relive it. The brain and body don’t realize the event is over. Time? Space? Irrelevant. The past rushes into the present, leaving you overwhelmed, reactive, and stuck in a fog.

Brain Fog: Your Brain’s SOS Signal

For me, all the emotional debris—shame, fear, guilt, regret, instability—got lodged in my impinged shoulder. If I moved it the wrong way or trained it too hard, the sensory storage in that area would break loose, dragging me into a riptide of emotional memory.

The release from the somatic body can overwhelm the forebrain, flooding it with survival signals, making it process too much at once. The brain doesn’t know where to begin, so it scrambles. Concentration? Shot. Memory? Muddy. Executive function? Out of reach.

Brain fog can also be a symptom of chronic inflammation, gut issues, and chronic fatigue—all of which are inextricably linked to an overactive trauma-center. As Dr. Bessel Van Der Kolk, who’s credited with determining the diagnosis for Post Traumatic Stress Disorder would say, “The Body Keeps The Score,” and when the load gets too heavy, your brain taps out and body shuts down.

Since the car accident left such a visceral imprint on my nervous system, every time I drove through that intersection—whether I was conscious of it or not—my body tensed, bracing for impact. That’s what trauma does. It doesn’t just live in the past; it prepares for the future, whether danger is real or just a ghost of what once was.

If you’ve ever been in an accident—or any physically or emotionally traumatic event—you know that knee-jerk reaction, that gut-wrenching flinch at the thought of it happening again. That flinch? That’s a trigger.

A term so overused by internet pop-psychology that it’s practically lost all meaning. But in reality, triggers aren’t just buzzwords; they’re survival signals, a critical part of the brain-body connection designed to keep you alive.

A trigger is any sensory cue—sound, smell, location, phrase—that sets off a red-alert fear response in the brain. It’s your nervous system saying, “Hey, we’ve been here before, and last time? It didn’t go so well. Let’s be on high alert so we don’t get burned again.” So, your brain prepares. It braces. It shifts into survival mode, even when no real danger exists.

This is how trauma gets embedded in the brain and body. It’s not just about remembering—it’s about anticipating. Protecting. Preserving. Keeping you out of pain… even if it means keeping you stuck. Counterproductive? Absolutely. But that’s just how the nervous system rolls.

What’s Next? Rewiring the Brain: The Off-Ramps to Healing

The good news? Brains are adaptable. They crave novelty, seek pleasure over pain, and, thanks to neuroplasticity, they can be rewired. If trauma can build superhighways in the brain, then healing can construct off-ramps—pathways that lead to calmer, safer, more sustainable roads.

We call these two systems “cocaine brain” and “chamomile tea brain.”

• Cocaine brain is the high-speed highway. It’s loud. It’s chaotic. And even though it feels like absolute shit, it’s chemically addictive. That’s because it floods your system with dopamine and adrenaline, hijacking your brain with a rush of intoxicating neurotransmitters. Your brain loves a strong signal, and cocaine brain? It screams.

• • Chamomile tea brain is the quiet backroad. It whispers. The signals here are softer, the stakes lower, the sensations cozier. And because these pathways don’t scream, they don’t carve deep grooves in the brain—at least not at first.

But here’s the trick: over time, your brain learns. With the right practices, it starts preferring the calm over the chaos. It recognizes that chamomile tea brain gets way better MPG than cocaine brain, burning less energy while keeping you safe.

So, how do we shift gears? Here are a few simple action steps to build those off ramps!

5 Actionable Steps to Build Off-Ramps from Trauma Superhighways

1. Strengthen Your Vagus Nerve:

Your vagus nerve is the hotline between your brain and body—stimulating it helps your nervous system chill out. The name translates to “all knowing or all seeing.”

• Try This: Come back to breath. Breath is our fastest route to get out of your head and back into your body. Meet your breath right where it’s at. If it’s short and shallow, take a quick breath in and a quick exhale out for 3-5 cycles. Then engage slower breathing patterns (like Box Breath—inhale 4 seconds, hold 4, exhale 4, hold 4). Repeat until you can feel your heartbeat within your chest.

• • Why It Works: It activates the parasympathetic nervous system, signaling to your brain that you’re safe, even when old triggers try to convince you otherwise.

2. Rewire with Bodily Awareness:

Can you feel your toes? Trauma is stored not just in the mind but in the body. Pushing your tootsies into the ground helps relay to your brain exactly where you are in time and space. Movement can help discharge pent-up stress and emotional storage.

• Try This: Push your big toe, your pinky toe, then your heel into the ground. Pair it with the breath practice noted above. Imagine inhaling through your toes, up the shin, stopping at the knee. Then, visualize your breath like a French Press coffee maker, as you exhale through the nostrils and out through the souls of the feet. You can also, shake it out—literally. Shaking or bouncing (like a kid who can’t sit still) can release built-up tension. Yoga, walking, dance… somersaults in the grass are all great, too.

• • Why It Works: Movement increases endorphins, regulates your nervous system, and sends the message that you’re not trapped—you can move through it.

3. Befriend Your Gut:

Your gut has 150x more genes than the human genome. It’s smarter than you are. Your gut and brain are constantly in conversation. A healthy gut can help reduce anxiety, improve mood, focus and eliminate brain fog.

• Try This: Eating an anti-inflammatory diet of nutrient dense whole foods, with adequate hydration can pack a punch! Add fermented foods (like yogurt, kimchi, sauerkraut) and fiber-rich foods (fruits, veggies, whole grains) to your diet. Limit processed junk and… don’t eat like an asshole.

• • Why It Works: Your gut produces about 90% of your serotonin—better gut health = better mood regulation, lower rates of systemic inflammation, and better recovery.

4. Identify, Thank, & Redirect Triggers

Acknowledge your triggers, don’t just shove them down. The more you ignore them, the louder they’ll get. Remember, your brain and body are working for you—not against you.

• Try This: When triggered, first locate where in your body you feel it the most. Bring breath into the area, and find your toes. Thank your body for doing it’s job and if you can name what you’re feeling—”I’m anxious because my brain is trying to protect me from __.” Then redirect with evidence: “But I’m safe right now because ___.” If naming the emotion feels too far fetched—describe it to the best of your ability. Colors, textures, sensations are equally as effective.

• • Why It Works: Naming and/or describing emotions activates the prefrontal cortex—giving your brain something else to chew on. Which helps soothe the limbic system and halt runaway survival responses.

5. Reduce Sensory Inputs and Drop Anchor

When trauma ignites brain, body goes into sensory overload. Reducing your sensory inputs by lowering the lights, using decibel-reducing earplugs, or wearing soft clothes, can support your body’s shift into rest-and-digest. Then, anchor yourself in the present by inviting sensory cues that feel safe, comforting and supportive to your brain.

• Try This: Keep a calming scent, texture, or visual nearby—like a lavender essential oil, a smooth stone or soft hoodie, or a grounding reminder on your phone. Additionally, you can identify, count, and name, all the colors you can see in your immediate environment. Bonus points if you remember to connect to your breath!

• • Why It Works: These cues signal to your limbic system that the present moment is safe—even if the brain is time-traveling again—helping you stay anchored in the moment instead of spiraling into the past or future.

Take the Off-Ramp—Your Brain Deserves It

Trauma might have constructed those chaotic superhighways in your mind, but it doesn’t have to be the only road you travel. With a little practice, patience, acceptance and awareness, you can create quieter, calmer pathways—ones that lead you to peace rather than panic.

Healing isn’t about erasing the past; it’s about teaching your brain that the present is safer than it seems. Keep practicing these off-ramps, and watch as your electric-meatball of a brain starts to prefer “chamomile tea,” one turn signal at a time.