Why my nervous system needed a 90s summer
I’ve been working hard on my mental health this past year.
After several years of nonstop change—planning a wedding, navigating professional shifts, and transitioning to working from home as a very social person—my nervous system finally hit a wall.
The wedding and honeymoon ended, everything came to a full stop… but somehow, life just kept barreling forward. And I felt completely out of sync with it.
I’ve always been someone who lives in my head. Switching gears and staying present has never come easily to me. That self-awareness can sometimes help—but other times, it’s made things worse.
For the first time in my life, that overthinking spiraled into something new: panic.
Panic is a word I never thought I’d have to say out loud. It’s painful, ugly, and heavy with shame. It feels taboo—like if I speak it too loudly, it might rear it’s ugly head again. In the hardest moments, panic has made me feel hopeless. Like I’ll never return home to myself again. Like I won’t feel safe inside my own body.
But with the help of some incredible people, I’m learning to see it differently.
Panic, as miserable and tricky as it is, can be a messenger. It’s not my enemy—it’s an alarm. A signal that I’m at max capacity. That I’m overstimulated, overwhelmed, and my body doesn’t know how else to get my attention.
I used to think I was just being a baby. That I needed to toughen up, pull myself together, and push through. But—twisted as it sounds—panic is teaching me to be kinder to myself. To live with more grace for the sensitive soul I am. And to take what I feel seriously.
It’s still hard. Some days, my heart rate spikes out of nowhere and I’m already over the edge before I can catch it. But I’m learning. And I’m softening.
If you’ve ever struggled with panic, I see you. I used to not understand it, but now I do. And if you feel stuck, scared, or hopeless—I want you to know that things can get better. Truly. I’m right there with you, and I have to believe we’re both going to find our way forward.
Our bodies are wildly resilient. And sometimes the most powerful thing we can do is stop forcing ourselves to get better, and instead—create space to heal.
For me, that healing looks like:
Getting outside more
Spending time in my garden
Watching the birds on their feeders
Spending less time on social media
More fires under the stars, fewer nights in front of the TV
Reading books in my hammock
Picking berries, canning veggies, and baking sourdough bread
Sunshine and water
Hot yoga, pickleball, morning walks, evening walks, midday walks with the dogs
Walking to the library or down to the pop machine when I need a Diet Coke
Honestly? It’s giving full 90s summer—and I’m here for it. 🧃🌼
I truly don’t think our brains were built for the constant hum of technology and the pace of modern life. So this summer, I’m turning down the volume. I’m giving myself a season of quiet joy, and I’m inviting you to join me.
If you want to follow along on my social media-free journey—and get some beautiful garden updates, seasonal wellness reflections, and encouragement to slow it all way down—you’re welcome to sign up for Vitality Vignette, my weekly newsletter.
It’s where I’ll be writing from the heart all summer long.