Pausing instead of fixing

From fixaholic to learning to sit back and take it one breath at a time.

For as long as I can remember, I’ve been a fixaholic, whether it was in my personal life, my relationships, at university and at work.

Fix, move on, fix, done, fix, check it off the list.

I was praised for it, and that made me do it more, fix more, as it continuously fueled my people pleasing trait. However, when I could’t fix something, I felt blocked, obsessive and restless. I would worry and ruminate about what I couldn’t fix, like my burnout, my anxiety, someone else’s feelings or actions, and situations I couldn’t control. I felt worthless, useless and in a hamster wheel I couldn’t get out of.

I was especially challenged when I was told I couldn’t fix my burnout, that there wasn’t one fix which could releave me of the symptoms. It was a cocktail of many things and it would take time. I had to have (read: learn) patience and do the work, to lay in the mess and allow it to just be. I shouldn’t ‘just pick myself up’ or ‘fix’, I had to embrace the mess.

One of the things that I found in the process was that fixing had been my brain’s automatic response for a long time. It’s an intuitive empath trait, to analyse everything excessively, to try to predict all outcomes and next steps, to be ready, to worry about what could or couldn’t happen, to try to emotionally regulate others for their emotions not to impact oneself, to always be alert and helpful, to please in order to keep the peace. No wonder, I burnout twice.

I walked around irritated, anxious, craving control, fearful, worried, and hypervigilant. I was in constant flight-or-fight mode.

This became a turning point, knowledge created awareness, but I now I had to unlearn the impulse to fix. How would I do this? It was so ingraned in my being, but I would have to find a way, because I felt my body and mind were closed like a fist and constant in pain. It all had to change, I couldn’t continue living like this.

It was easier said than done, but learning and growing out this has been the greatest gift.

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The road to change

It took a cocktail of things: therapy, meditation, visualisation, massage, journalling, yoga, breathing, walks, awareness and allowances, patience and time, pauses, rest, and a willingness to let go.

All elements taught me small bits, and paved the road slowly towards a different reactive pattern that I had been living in for too long.

I started with therapy, where I slowly found patterns in situations where I was triggered to fix, but also to understand that a burnout shouldn’t be treated lightly. I needed to take it seriously and understand the impact of it on my body and mind, to treat it as a broken limb.

I started writing those patterns and triggers down. Actually, I started writing everything down, words of wisdom, dreams, where I went during meditations, how my body felt, how experienced things, memories and dreams. Slowly, I started to unwind the knot and find what could feel good to add to my road of recovery and growth. This is how journalling became a trusted outlet, allowing awareness of how I looked at my life, finding what feels good, learning to be honest with myself, in order to understand my inner workings, to write down and to let go.

Next, came group and individual meditation, which helped me allow situations, making space for life and myself, and helped me visualise boundaries and realities, to pause and visually let something be without having to carry it around. For example, I used to carry my worries in my chest and belly, now I visualise them as an external part of my body.

I added massage. As I started to unfold and feel my body again, I realised it ached constantly. This helped me let go and just be in the moment, connecting to my body without having to use the mind. I was finally able to bring my shoulders down from my ears, where they had lived for a decade or more.

Being massaged reliaved my aches and I started to regain a (rather small) will to move. It slowly came in the form of walks. Not everyday, not always, no routine, just when it felt right.

Walks brought an interesting awareness, that I always used to rush, because there was something I had to do, to fix, to check off. It allowed me to find this pattern had spilled over to other things, and I learnt to walk slowly and mindfully. Finding my own pace instead, in a nurturing way, hold space for stopping and observing.

And at the end I added yoga, which gave me focus. It helped me find the door to my inner self, to the moment I am in and to be able to self-soothe without having the need of others. Especially, because yoga taught me to breathe again, to use it to my advantage instead of being a mere impulse of life. It made me proud of my body, too.

All of these things, helped me rebuild myself over the space of a year. I learned to pause, to not react, to allow gentle awareness without the need to respond.

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Where I am now

In situations where my mind has made a knot in the anxiety of having to fix something, my emotions or a situation, I have been able to get back to myself and into a pausing state again, which is something I was never able to before.

My mind can still run, but after a while, I can hear my own words and resources coming to me. For example, I could hear my therapist say ‘if you are tired, it is not the time to think’, and I would find myself opening my meditation or breathing app and taking those 5 minutes I need. It isn’t about how quickly I get back to my calm self, it is about knowing that I can find my way back.

I cried when I realised I had learnt this, that I could to get back to myself, that I could feel my body and know what I need in each moment, that I am on the path where I can be balanced. It was overwhelming to find that I had been able to open that closed fist that was my body and mind.

It has been a journey, a long but grateful one. From pain, fear, uncomfortable feelings, people not respecting my boundaries, places that didn’t feel home, feeling caged and worried, to be able to slowly move towards living in a more balanced and calm way.

That was the gift of this hard journey.

• Identifying moments of fight or flight, and trying to find out how to trigger my rest and digest response instead.

• About knowing what I like, need and how to cope (still learning to listen).

• Able to accept the good and bad in people, and that relationships change and might not be as you wish them to be, but they can still work.

• Able to accept my own life and how I don’t have control over many aspects of it, which is okay.

• Setting boundaries and sticking to them, even when uncomfortable.

• Learning to anchor on myself and hold my child self.

• Expecting less of myself, meaning being less of a perfectionist. Allowing for imperfection and not apologising for it.

How do you allow pausing, when your mind wants to fix?