Why Calm Made Me Panic
There was a time I thought stillness meant I was finally doing it right. You know “peace that surpasses all understanding”, “be still and know”, “wait on the Lord.”
Stillness was meant to be a spiritual reward. A sign of maturity. A place of deep connection with God. But somewhere along the way, it stopped feeling like peace and started feeling like a trap. Whenever the pressure lifted or the noise died down, my chest would tighten. I’d feel a compulsion to be productive. To fix something. To prove myself. To perform. If I wasn’t “on fire,” I was afraid I’d get swallowed by shame.
Stillness felt like punishment. Silence felt like a test. I didn’t know how to “be still” without also preparing to be reprimanded. I’d sit in moments of quiet and instead of peace, my mind would flood with self-interrogation:
Did I pray enough?
Have I sinned unknowingly?
Am I being tested?
Is this a spiritual attack?
The silence wasn’t restful, it was strategic, conditioned, and loaded.
So, I stayed busy. I led another group. Said yes to another roster. Preached another sermon. Hoping that doing more would finally earn me the internal stillness I craved. I wasn’t failing at recovery, I was still surviving a system that conditioned my body to fear calm. But now I’m learning that real peace doesn’t demand performance. It doesn’t have to be earned.
My nervous system isn’t resisting peace, it’s remembering danger.
Stillness, for many of us, was never neutral. But it can become safe again. One breath at a time.
Why Understanding the Body Is Essential in Religious Trauma Recovery
As a trauma-informed counsellor and coach supporting people across Australia, I’ve seen firsthand how the body holds what the mind tries to explain away. You can unpack beliefs, name the abuse, and understand the theological dysfunction, but if your body still goes into panic at the sound of a worship song, you’re not making it up.
Religious trauma isn’t just a theological crisis, it’s a full-body imprint.
It’s the breath you held when your pastor scolded you for questioning.
It’s the stomach pain during hell-fire sermons.
It’s the collapse you felt after years of emotional self-denial.
This isn’t rebellion. It’s survival.
How Trauma Shows Up in the Body
As Dr. Bessel van der Kolk famously wrote, The Body Keeps the Score. And for survivors of high-control or coercive religious environments, trauma often shows up in our body.
Common trauma responses I see in clients and have experienced myself include:
Chronic tension and fatigue
Generalised depression and/or anxiety
Shallow breathing or chest tightness
Sleep disturbances or nightmares
Digestive issues without a medical cause
Somatic flashbacks in spiritual spaces
Panic when hearing spiritual language
Emotional numbing or shutdown in moments of silence
Difficulty resting without guilt or self-interrogation
These aren’t overreactions or spiritual immaturity, they are the body doing what it was trained to do: survive perceived threat.
My Body Knew Before I Did
Before I left the megachurch where I served for years, my body started speaking up.
I was leading connect groups, teaching at Bible college, writing sermons, and working full-time. I threw up before preaching, had panic attacks in the car on Sunday mornings, and couldn’t sleep through the night. But I kept going.
Because exhaustion was framed as anointing.
Anxiety was labelled as a “spiritual attack.”
And rest? That was disobedience and laziness.
One Sunday, I vomited from an intense panic attack just minutes before I was meant to teach a lecture at the bible college. A pastor prayed for healing and then sent me into the classroom. I went. I smiled. I delivered the lecture. Then I threw up again. No one questioned it. Including me. It took years of therapy and body-based recovery to understand:
My body wasn’t weak. It was wise. It was telling me the truth before I was ready to say it out loud: You’re not safe here.
Why Stillness Can Feel Unsafe
In coercive spiritual environments, stillness isn’t always restful. It’s often the moment where you’re told to “search your heart,” “listen for God’s voice,” or “die to self.” But what happens when the voice of “God” was also the voice of spiritual abuse? What if silence meant correction, spiritual gaslighting, or emotional ambush?
For many of us, stillness became synonymous with danger. So, when the nervous system braces at rest or calm, it’s not resisting peace. It’s responding to what it learned about stillness.
Religious trauma often activates the autonomic nervous system’s survival states:
Fight – You challenged leadership and were labelled divisive.
Flight – You avoided church but were guilted for it.
Freeze – You dissociated during sermons to survive the tension.
Fawn – You over-served, over-submitted, and over-apologised to stay “in favour.”
These are intelligent, automatic adaptations. Recovery isn’t about erasing them, it’s about helping the body learn that safety is now possible.
Tools for Rebuilding Safety in the Body
Here are some somatic tools I use in my practice and in my own recovery:
Grounding Exercises
Use the 5-4-3-2-1 method:
5 things you see, 4 things you can touch, 3 things you hear, 2 you can smell, 1 you can taste.
Safe Touch
Place your hand over your heart or cheek and say, “I’m here. I’m safe now.”
It sounds simple, but it speaks volumes to the nervous system.
Orienting
Look around the room slowly. Notice the colours, the light, the furniture.
You’re not being watched. You’re not under evaluation. You are free.
Somatic Tracking
Notice sensations without trying to fix them. “My throat feels tight. My stomach feels heavy. My fingers are twitchy.” Just noticing can begin regulation.
Self-Havening Techniques
Use gentle, rhythmic touch on your hands, arms, or face while repeating calming words like “I am safe,” “I am here,” or “I choose peace.” This technique supports emotional processing and self-regulation.
Shake it Out
Animals naturally shake after stress. You can too. Shake, jump, or dance it out.
Rest Without Repentance
Lay down with no agenda. No spiritual pressure. Just let yourself be.
For Practitioners Supporting Survivors of Religious Trauma
If you’re a mental health practitioner, coach, or support worker, here are a few reminders:
Spiritual triggers live in the body.
Scripture, music, and certain words can activate trauma responses even after deconstruction.
Start with the body, in ways that are not overwhelming.
Clients need to feel safe before they can process cognitively.
Slow is sacred.
High-control systems often rush or force spiritual growth. Honour your client’s pace.
Be mindful of somatic tools.
Some cultic groups use breathwork or meditative practices to bypass consent. Always co-create safety.
Your Body Is Not the Enemy
If calm feels like a threat…
If stillness makes your chest tighten…
If rest feels like rebellion…
You’re not broken.
Your nervous system isn’t fighting you it’s fighting what once harmed you.
But with trauma-informed support, somatic tools, and a steady return to self-trust, your body can learn that safety doesn’t require silence, obedience, or performance.
You don’t have to earn rest.
You don’t have to fear stillness.
You get to come home to yourself.
Work with me: If you're navigating religious trauma or cult recovery, I offer individual coaching, group support, and coaching packages. Learn more about how we can work together.
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