The Art of Surviving Survival Mode

No one in their right mind wakes up one morning, and over morning coffee thinks…

How about I abandon all those highfalutin ideas about living my best life and instead go all in on merely surviving?

But a lot of us end up there anyway.

You might be there already, hunkering down to get through what life has thrown your way, and hoping to get through in something resembling one piece.

And while survival mode offers some refuge, it isn’t without its dangers.

The very comfort it provides is the very same comfort that can shrink your world down to nothing.

I’ve had the highest highs and lowest lows, and my own experience of getting through survival mode coupled with my 20+ years experience as a coach gives me something of a unique outlook.

Here then, is the art of surviving survival mode.

1. Fundamentally, it’s not forever

In the middle of it—right there in the belly of the beast—your lived experience changes dramatically.

As you hunker down, walls go up. Your life shrinks as you become more disconnected. It feels like the safe, tiny world you’ve wrapped around yourself is all there is. It’s impossible to see the edges of it, and the pain, effort and upheaval of being anywhere else feels insurmountable.

But the first thing to acknowledge—as deeply as you can acknowledge anything—is that where you are is temporary.

As shitty as things might be, when you’re ready for more life or when your life is ready for more you, your experience will change.

I’m proof of that, but it also segues directly to the next point.

2. Don’t turn it into forever

When you’re safe, warm and comfortable and all the pain, adversity and discomfort is at arms length, you might just wanna hang out there for the long term.

The easiest thing in the world is to stay as numb as possible for as long as possible, because right there is where nothing and nobody can hurt you.

But you have to know the cost of staying numb and extending your stay in survival mode.

As I found out, you can’t numb selectively.

Numb yourself to pain if you need to, but know that you’re also numbing yourself to connection, joy and curiosity.

So an awareness of the temptation of being safe and the cost of giving in to that temptation becomes a necessary practice.

Which becomes a whole lot easier when you embrace the next point.

3. Flip how you think about it

It’s easy to think that life is unfair, to feel beaten down by events and circumstances, or that you just can’t deal with it all right now.

But what if there was a way to flip this on its head?

Because the honest truth is, when you consider how far you’ve already come and the volume of stuff life has thrown at you, hunkering down in survival mode is simply a radical act of compassion towards yourself.

That might sound like patronising, fluffy bs, but it’s as hardcore as it gets.

Why turn being in survival mode into a stick to beat yourself with? Why create more tension by thinking that you “shouldn’t” be where you are? Why add more pressure to get your shit together?

Giving yourself the time and space to get through and survive—as limiting and as hard as that can be—is the kindest thing you can do. It’s putting your needs first. It’s making yourself a priority. It’s knowing that you deserve compassion.

That’s what you need, not some bs about bouncing back or wishing things were different.

You’re finding your way through as best you can, and if that isn’t a radical act of generosity and compassion towards yourself I don’t know what is.

4. Know your “No’s”

I was sitting on multiple bereavements so socialising just didn’t sit right (I wasn’t exactly the life and soul of the party), so the time I spent in survival mode was a pretty solitary experience.

Outside of work, my two amazing sisters were the only real, consistent presence in my life, and I found myself saying no to pretty much everything else.

At some point saying no became an almost instinctual thing—if someone or something bubbled up that might have interrupted my routine or pierced my bubble, the “no” was there before I had a chance to think it.

When one or two friends started reaching out after some time had passed, that instinct to say no tugged at me like a pitbull tugging on a meat-filled chew toy (jaw clenched, mouth frothing, the works).

Instead of just saying “No”, I turned the decision into a conscious and deliberate one, and I’m still grateful that I carved out an hour to go grab a coffee during those darker days.

Point is, if you don’t know your “no’s” the cost of survival mode may be higher than you’d like.

5. Rest, Don’t Wallow

I rested a lot.

I mean, if resting were people, I’d be China.

With my ongoing experience with M.E. I know the value of rest, but when you’re emotionally depleted as well as physically exhausted the utility of rest gets ramped up to 11.

But while rest is valuable and productive, wallowing isn’t.

Even at my lowest I got out of bed in the morning and got dressed (yes, both top and bottom halves). There was no sitting around eating my own bodyweight in Pringles or necking bourbon straight from the bottle.

Wallowing is giving in to self-pity.

Rest is doing what you can with what you have and maintaining your agency, and having that be plenty.

6. Take the opportunity

Towards the end of my time in survival mode there was a shift in energy that felt like fresh shoots from arid ground.

That energy helped me open up, reconnect with good people, shoot the breeze with strangers, refocus what I can offer people, and get my creative juices flowing again.

It helped me see what matters, it helped me join up some dots and it helped me see parts of myself I’d forgotten about.

Emerging from survival mode is a rare opportunity to redefine your important stuff.