Is a Dysregulated Nervous System Preventing You From Realizing Your Potential?

Trauma may be the source of your sorrow and salvation

Dear Friend,

I didn't live up to my potential from a young age.

Like any kid, I wanted to succeed in academics, sports, and later in my career. But I found myself in a constant inner battle, not knowing why I was struggling.

I sat in the back of the class, elbow on the desk, my head leaning against my open palm. I stared out the window, too busy daydreaming or lost in thought to hear lessons or assignments.

After second grade, my family moved across the country, leaving behind my three best friends—Chris Seitz, Billy Bloodgood and another whose name I've forgotten. Being in a different culture and not knowing anyone left me lonely and anxious.

On the first day of third grade, my teacher, Ms. Buckley, explained how to buy milk in the cafeteria, but I didn't hear what she said. She asked if anyone had any questions, but I was afraid to speak up for fear of looking stupid. I wondered why I had trouble paying attention.

I avoided going to the bathroom during class. I would rather endure the pain of a full bladder than risk being judged by classmates while walking to the restroom. Speaking in front of the class was terrifying, so I didn't dare raise my hand to ask or answer questions. I wondered why I was so afraid of being judged.

By fourth grade, I created a daily schedule, but I never once followed it entirely. I wondered why I lacked discipline.

Instead of taking risks and trying new things, I stuck with what was familiar and comfortable, going a mile wide and an inch deep. However, avoiding delving deeply into a subject or sport and facing my limitations denied me the opportunity to grow and realize my potential. I wondered why I was risk-averse.

I played baseball, soccer and tennis, but my only claim to fame was being the fastest long-distance runner in grade school. When I was regularly picked second-to-last in gym class, I didn't understand why. It was humiliating.

Since I didn't excel at sports, I only had academics to prove myself.

Unfortunately, I applied myself only enough to earn passing grades. Studying more and not succeeding would have only confirmed that I wasn't smart. My sixth-grade teacher recommended holding me back in math because I had trouble understanding concepts, which made me feel even dumber. I wondered if I was really that slow.

On the rare occasion when someone said that I seemed bright, I was confused. If I were smart, then why wouldn't I get good grades?

I studied French, but the fear of making a mistake made speaking almost impossible. I once called a French operator for someone's phone number but transposed the numbers. I realized then that I was dyslexic with numbers, or was it due to anxiety?

I was fired from my first three jobs out of college. I cried each time, wondering what was wrong with me that I couldn't keep a job, let alone excel.

At 32, my boss told me over coffee at Starbucks that I seemed angry, confirmed by our colleagues. Instead of acknowledging the truth of her words, I let out a tirade, recounting all the ways she failed me as a manager, leaving her nonplussed in front of a line of customers. I wondered why I was emotionally immature.

My first long-term relationship of four and half years ended at twenty-eight with her cheating on me. My marriage ended at forty-one after eight and a half years. She was so angry and untrusting that she refused to give me her new address. I wondered why I couldn't sustain a relationship and was attracted to unhealthy women.

An answer to all my questions came in the most unexpected place: in a house along a dirt road on the side of a California mountain.

In 2015, I stayed with a Couchsurfer from Poland for three days to soak in hot springs before starting a new sales job. During a conversation one evening, she shared something her sister said: "Maybe you haven't lived up to your potential because your nervous system has been too dysregulated."

Now, this was revelatory.

I had been blaming myself for my shortcomings my entire life when, all along, I had been living with the equivalent of a psychological handicap. I was a six-cylinder car running on four. No wonder I had failed to live up to my potential.

A tweet from Nicole LePera last year helped me realize that my nervous system had been stuck in the psychological freeze state of flight, fight, freeze, or fawn for most of my life. Underneath the freeze state was shame, the core source of trauma. Like a common cold, parents unknowingly pass on their unhealed shame to their children.

Shame explained my fixed mindset and aversion to taking a risk. I feared failure because I was convinced it meant I was a failure, not that failure occurs while doing hard things like studying chemistry, swimming in a meet, or learning a new instrument.

My overtaxed nervous system also helped explain my extreme thinness, as evidenced in this 2012 study.

Thankfully, this story has a happy ending.

From seventh grade onward, I performed well in math classes and on the math portion of the SAT.

In my mid-twenties, I went to graduate school partly to prove I could get good grades. I worked harder than ever, had one of the best times of my life and graduated with a 3.67 GPA, a whole point higher than ever.

As a self-taught straight-commission salesperson in my 30s, I consistently ranked in the top 1-3% out of 1,500 salespeople. I started two businesses—the first failed, but the second succeeded. Today, my weight is within a normal range despite eating fewer calories than ever. I’m also in a ten-year relationship that was initially difficult but is now more open, understanding and supportive than ever.

Healing has transformed my life from an ongoing struggle to one that is significantly easier, more peaceful, authentic and fulfilling.

Yet, my life is not all rainbows and unicorns.

Concentration can still be a challenge, especially in group settings. Last weekend, I attended a workshop and missed several instructions because my body was too flooded with emotions and my mind too full of thoughts to hear the words. Thankfully, meditation and mindfulness practice aid my concentration. But I still struggle with self-doubt, which is paralyzing at times and has held me back perhaps more than anything.

The only thing that kept me going through the tough times was that I saw possibility.

If you struggle as I have and have yet to realize your potential, have faith. With enough healing, inner awareness and right understanding, I'm confident your nervous system will quiet, your life will become more manageable, and you will realize your innate potential.

If you haven't yet, keep going. Don't settle. As with all healing, you'll know when you're on the right path when you feel whole, complete and contented. So keep at it, and don't stop until you do.

Keep healing,

Ryan

And for something new, a song I can’t stop listening to: