Why Nervous System Regulation is So Hard

& how to make it easier.

I thought doing more yoga was going to save me from the existential dread I felt working for a soulless marketing agency in Leeds in 2013.

It didn’t.

Because, you see, doing yoga doesn’t scratch the surface when you’re in a WTF-is-adulthood kinda crisis.

Yoga / meditation / ice baths / endless kale smoothies / [insert preferred ‘wellness hack’ here] — they don’t mean shit if you’re in a state of utter despair.

Utter despair = dysregulation.

Where life is a fucking battle, from one sunrise to the next.

In that job, I was replying to complaints on the Bella Italia socials on my weekends (which will forever now be called Bellend Italia — please never eat there).

I was working on website copy for one of the most offensive sports players in the UK.

I sat in meetings with a big insurance firm and literally fell asleep.

I tried to bring happiness into the mix by leaving cute post-it notes on everyone’s desks and decorating for theme days (I genuinely got to the office at 6am to do this for a while. French day was my favourite. We ate cheese for about eight hours straight and everyone wore stripes).

And yoga. Yoga was going to cure me of all this fuckery.

I ended up leaving that job and ran away to Bali for two months. Got my yoga teaching certification. And sure, I’m proud to say my classes had queues out the door within six months of coming home and less than two years later I was opening my own studio in York.

If I say so myself: I teach a bloody epic yoga class.

Me and Eoin Finn, my wonderful yoga teacher, in 2016 after graduating my yoga teacher training. Side note: I thought I was fat back then. What’s that about.

But I was a classic case of dysregulated human, with zero idea, terrible mental health, and just bumbling through like everything would sort itself out.

I suppose it did, in a way. Here I am, 36 and happier, healthier, and more loved and grounded than I’ve ever been.

But that’s only because I finally picked up the rock and took a peek underneath.

Under it I found chronic stress, a toxic relationship, and terrible self-awareness.

I’ve mentioned therapy (with this amazing woman) a lot — that was a key part in my healing.

And so was polyvagal theory.

What is polyvagal theory?

Much of what we now call ‘nervous system regulation’ has been shaped by polyvagal theory.

Put simply: it’s the theory, coined by psychologist Stephen Porges in the 90’s, that our system is made up of three branches:

1. Parasympathetic, or ventral vagal (also known as ‘rest and digest’ — where we should aim to be most of the time)

2. Sympathetic (our fight-or-flight response)

3. Dorsal vagal (the freeze response).

And that we need to approach our regulation (i.e the movement back to parasympathetic) in a ladder-like way — from dorsal to sympathetic and finally to parasympathetic.

Polyvagal theory has given us a helpful map, although you should know that some of its anatomical claims are now being challenged. Despite that, the lived patterns of stress and safety remain well established across psychology, trauma research, and autonomic science.

Read more about this stuff here:

Nervous System 101

But, back when I was burning out like it was cool, and was so fucked up I couldn’t eat more than about 500 calories a day for a year (seriously), I didn’t need regulation.

I just needed relief.

I needed an instant lessening of the heaviness, the pain, the challenge of my reality.

But it’s through polyvagal theory, and a kind friend who helped me find it, to get me that relief.

You’re probably not trying hard enough

Did you wince reading that? I winced writing it. But I think it’s the great takeaway from our society. You have a problem? Try harder. You want to look like Kate Moss? Try harder. Oh, is this all you got? You’re lazy, useless, and unworthy.

I know I’m exaggerating, but I bet you can feel the truth in this.

No wonder we end up collapsing with burnout, fatigue, despair. No wonder we develop chronic digestive issues, sleep issues, mental health issues.

Because the world, as it apparently burns around us, is telling you just to put more effort in. Read the books, do the practices, save the posts, download the apps, and take a fucking cold shower every morning at 5am.

But this isn’t about discipline, or laziness, or you not being capable enough.

It’s that your nervous system, my nervous system, your dog’s nervous system — they don’t change through thinking or information or TikTok reels or reading about it.

They change through repetitive practice of safety.

Why regulation is so hard: the 4 main reasons

Photo by Karsten Winegeart on Unsplash

Why did it take me almost a decade to regulate properly?

Why are you feeling so dysregulated as you read this stuff?

Why is it so damn hard?

Here’s why:

1. Because your body prefers familiar stress to unfamiliar calm

You know that girlfriend of yours who’s in that relationship? Where it’s super high peaks of loveliness and praise and joy, followed by deep troughs of arguments and abandonment and shitty behaviour? Yeah, I’d wager she’s got daddy issues (don’t we all), and this high-low rhythm is one she’s used to from her childhood… so she unconsciously seeks it out.

Her brain is subconsciously seeking out that familiar stress pattern — it’s what she knows. Unless you interrupt that pattern, and unless she’s willing to see she’s stuck in that pattern, these are the relationships she’ll always find herself in.

This was me a few years ago, dating a horrible narcissist. Taking the crumbs of love he’d give me, accepting every time he’d stand me up or make me wait for hours or tell me calmly “my life is just nicer without you”. I’ve never wanted children, still don’t, but I wanted this man to love me so much I was contemplating it.

Or the other guy. Slowly cooking me in the boiling water of “you‘re so incapable, you can’t do anything without me”. I left that situation SO convinced I was a useless piece of shit.

This isn’t just about relationships (although I think our relationships have an enormous bearing on how regulated (or not) we feel in our lives); this is about work, where we live, how we live. We get comfortable with stress, with shitty behaviour, with terrible jobs…

Because it’s just easier to stay here than to move, right? Even if here is a wasteland of turds.

Calm, when we’re used to stress and turmoil and low-bar jobs and behaviour, almost feels suspicious.

2. Because you’re trying to regulate in the middle of escalation.

I was burned out. Me and my then-partner had zero money. The pressure on me to make my business work was all-consuming. I was cooking in the above-mentioned boiling water of his bullshit. I wasn’t good enough to make ANY decision without him exploding at me for it… so I was paralysed.

Sure, I crowbarred a meditation habit into my pressure-cooker days, and it helped a bit (I still keep this habit to this day). I tried to properly workout, but felt like a fat lump of shit (I’d gained a lot of weight by this point). I gardened, which was nice but a bit stressful since I had no real clue or any spare time.

I tried. But the situation got worse, until it imploded around us and my family sort of whisked me away.

What I needed in that moment wasn’t nervous system regulation. I needed to open my eyes to the situation I was in and leave. Probably two or three years before I did.

No amount of nervous system regulation will fix a broken environment. If you’re constantly being chased by tigers, the best step is to get out the damn tiger enclosure.

That’s what I needed to do: completely surrender to the unknown and the dark and heartbreak in order to rebuild and come out the other side in a better place.

3. Because you’re aiming for zero stress.

This is one of the biggest mistakes I see in wellness circles: it’s about being calm all the time.

Here’s my counter to that: it’s about being more resilient to the chaos.

Sure, I can happily say I’m the most content, relaxed, joyful person I’ve ever been today. But I’ve still got a fair whack of stress in my life.

Because, guess what? Life will always hand you steaming piles of cow turd. It’s not the turds that count, but what you do with them.

One of my ex’s ways to deal with people he didn’t like or agree with: threaten them with legal action. Drink too much whisky. Develop a secret coke habit (nice).

Mine was: eat everything ever. Withdraw into myself. Snap at people I love.

These are reactions to the chaos.

What if, instead, we respond to the chaos?

Maybe a little stoicism — a little acceptance, emotional resilience, and perhaps an open mind — is required here.

Regulation isn’t about eliminating chaos. It’s about shortening your recovery time.

“There’s is nothing either good or bad, but thinking makes it so.”
- Shakespeare, Hamlet

4. Because you’re intellectualising instead of practising.

Insight is not integration.

Learning about it isn’t engaging with it.

Reading about regulation won’t actually regulate you.

It’s like learning the play the piano. Trust me when I say: you don’t improve by reading books about learning to play the piano. You need to show up, do the practice, and repeat. That’s how people get good (or slightly mediocre, hello) at playing the piano.

👉 Regulation is hard because you’re trying to feel better immediately, instead of building the capacity to feel differently long-term.

How to make regulation easier

Photo by Connor Wilkins on Unsplash

This is where I shout — very loudly whilst jumping up and down — to practice this, rather than just read about it (learn how you can do this with me here).

Here’s how we do that:

1. Feel first. The art of interoception is basically a real-life superpower. Learn to feel more, and you’ll be armed with knowledge that will help you move forward. Without feeling, you’ll be like I was for years: stuck.
   

   Paid subscriber? Practice my interoception meditation here. This is like the bicep-curl of building your feeling-muscle.
   

2. And respond accordingly. Learn how you personally shift states from feeling anxious, from feeling overwhelmed, from feeling bone-tired-but-wired, from flat, stressed, upset, despairing… This might take a little time to learn, and not everything will work for you in the same way it does for me.
   
   For instance, when I’ve been hardcore-working at my laptop for three hours without a break, I need to jump about, go for a walk, and practice physiological sighs on repeat as I walk through the woods. If, however, I’m feeling really sad and low, I need legs-up-the-wall whilst watching The Office US. Different states, different responses.
   
   Find your regulating tools, practice them often.
   

3. Regulate when you’re calm. Training outside the fire prepares us for the fire when it comes. In other words, applying regulating tools in periods of ease and calm helps your system build resiliency for periods of tension and upset.
   
   This might look like a daily meditation practice, journalling, walks without podcasts, dancing to your favourite tunes in the morning… It doesn’t matter what it is that you find regulating (i.e. what brings you back to parasympathetic — an easy and relaxed state), and don’t get caught up in this looking Insta-perfect or wellness-adjacent even… just choose a tool that helps you feel better, and practice daily, even for 5 minutes.
   

4. Stop trying to fix yourself. You’re not a broken table in need of some nails and wood glue; you’re a human being who’s never been taught to self-regulate properly. There’s no shame in any of this. I share my terrible relationship and job struggles above to remind you you’re not alone. It’s normal. And I’m here to convince you that there’s another way.
   
   Inside Joyful and Joy Unplugged, we don’t talk as if you’re something that needs repair or fixing; instead we talk about you coming home to yourself again.

   What if nothing in you needs fixing? What if all you need to do is create the conditions for change and trust what comes up?
   
   This is about noticing what it feels like to be in your body again.

I hope you see that relief, and healing, and joy, are possible for you, my friend.

I consider this the greatest and most wonderful job of all: noticing and feeling and practicing what it’s like to live a life of joy.

Because we only get one (probably). And it’s really bloody short.

Here’s to your curious and odds-beating existence.

Here’s to joy,

Chloe
🧡

Want more? All my resources live here.