Living in a body that won’t relax

There’s a kind of exhaustion that runs deeper than tired muscles on a restless night. It lives in the nervous system. It hides in the way your shoulders are always slightly raised, in the way you clench your jaw without even noticing. I live in a body that won’t relax. Not because I don’t want to, but because somewhere along the way, my body forgot how. Even in the quiet moments, something inside me stays tense. It’s a subtle form of alertness, like my body is convinced danger is just around the corner, every corner, even when everything is calm. It’s not panic, exactly. Panic is loud and sharp. This is quieter. this is a slow drip. A constant hum. A nervous system that’s always “on,” waiting for something to go wrong.

The Body Remembers What The Mind Tries To Forget:

What I’ve learned over time is this: anxiety doesn’t just live in your mind, it lives in the body. It lodges itself into muscles, into posture, into breathe patterns. Even when your mind tells you “you’re safe,” your body doesn’t always believe it. You can be in a beautiful place, with nothing to fear, and still feel the tension simmering under your skin. Your body doesn’t respond to logic. It responds to patterns, memories, and survival instincts. So even when life slows down, even when peace is possible, your body might still be bracing - because it’s been taught that calm isn’t safe, that the moment you let go is the moment something goes wrong.

What It Actually Feels Like:

It feels like this:

Waking up already tired. Feeling like your chest is always a little tight, even when you’re not upset. Struggling to take a deep breath and actually feel it reach your stomach. Getting through the day in “performance mode,” only to crash out emotionally later. Wanting to relax, but being afraid of what will surface when everything gets quiet.

Even rest becomes something to fear. Because when your body is used to tension, stillness feels foreign. Stillness feels unsafe. Stillness feels like letting your guard down, and for an anxious body, that’s the ultimate risk.

Trying to “Just Relax” Doesn’t Work:

The worst advice I ever received was “just relax.” As if I hadn’t already tried. As if the tension was a choice. As if I wouldn’t give anything to feel what relaxed people must feel. Relaxation, for someone with anxiety, isn’t a switch to flip, it’s a whole process. It’s a relearning. It’s creating safety in your body again, slowly, gently, intentionally. Because if your body has been in survival mode for months or years, relaxation doesn’t feel like relief. It feels like exposure. Like vulnerability. It takes courage to let go of tension when you don’t remember who you are without it.

To Anyone Who Lives In A Body That Won’t Relax:

You’re not lazy. You’re not dramatic. You’re not broken. You’re just tired in a way most people will never understand. Your body is carrying stories and fears and pain you might not even have words for yet. But here’s the hope: it’s possible to change the story. Not overnight. But breath by breath. Step by step. Moment by moment. You don’t have to force yourself to be okay. You don’t have to rush the healing. You just have to begin by listening. By being gentle. By giving yourself the space to feels safe again. Even in this body. Even in this moment. Even now.

I struggle with anxiety, the feeling of letting all my thoughts bubble up until I can’t hold them in. Until I can’t breathe. And no one will ever understand the pain. I personally hate that I am this way. The sleepless nights, the constant feeling of eyes watching me. Constantly hearing “ you’re fine,” or “calm down.” The constant need to be doing something even when it all becomes too much. The feeling of not having anyone to talk to when in reality I do, and I just don’t want them to see my struggle. But anyone with anxiety like mine will understand. There are so many things that cause it. That can trigger it. It’s not weakness, it’s just a sign that you’re tired mentally, maybe even physically. And maybe the one’s that notice don’t know how to handle it.

Find someone to talk to, let them know you’re struggling before it becomes too much. Before it’s too late. Anxiety can be crippling. It can make you stay in bed for hours and think of things that just make it worse. I know from experience. Talk to someone. Even if it’s a friend or spouse or professional help. It’s always better to tell someone. Lifting even the smallest amount of weight off your shoulders will make a difference.