Procrastination, the trauma in disguise: A story we don't talk about enough

    We are programmed to think procrastination is just a bad habit, a sign of laziness, or simply the lack of motivation. But for many of us, it's something much deeper. Procrastination can be a cry from our nervous system - a hidden signal that we are overwhelmed, scared, afraid, or still healing from something we haven't even named yet. We are taught procrastination is about time management when it's about emotional survival. 

Trauma doesn't always scream. Sometimes it whispers

    Trauma doesn't always look like a dramatic event. Sometimes it's quiet and subtle. It just creeps in - through a betrayal, an overwhelming period of stress, or even a buildup of long-term emotion suppression or neglect. The mind and body can absorb the shock without us realizing how deeply it affects us. Without understanding this, we tend to punish ourselves for not functioning "normally". We tell ourselves that it's not a big deal, thus invalidating our pain. That's when the procrastination slips in. 

When you can't "Just Get It Done"

    Sometimes we just go through experiences that shake our confidence to the core - it may be a setback, a disappointment, or a sudden change. Even after trying to move on, something inside us stays stuck. Most of the time, we don't even realize that we are carrying trauma or just have been through trauma, until we find ourselves frozen- unable to complete tasks that once felt simple. 

My personal experience?

I went through an overwhelming period of stress over a few years that completely shook my sense of capability. Before I realized what was happening within myself, I was stuck in this constant loop of procrastination. I delayed things I knew I needed to do. I told myself I would start tomorrow, but the fear just wouldn't go away. I couldn't move forward. Months have passed and I still sometimes feel like I've lost touch with what I once knew.

    This isn't laziness, it's the trauma responding. It's fear disguising itself as avoidance. It's the mind protecting us from more pain by keeping us in the safety of "not starting".

The cost of pretending to be "Tough"

    We are taught to power through. To not let things "get to us". We become so focused on appearing okay that we stop being okay. Suppressing the pain and emotions doesn't make it disappear - it morphs like guilt, shame, and procrastination. We don't need more pressure. We need permission to slow down, to feel what you have been through, to admit and accept what we went through was hard. If not the avoidance becomes a fog we can't see our way out of.

We are not behind - We are healing. 

    We have to stop calling it failure, and start calling it recovery. We have to admit "of course, I am struggling, I have been through a lot". Honesty is where true healing begins. Its about starting from a place of survival, exhaustion and courage. This should be more that enough. Progress doesn't have to come from pushing harder. It comes from pausing and understanding what you really need. It doesn't have to look a certain way. 

For me progress looked like saying "I am not okay" without apologizing, taking one small step instead of a big leap, choosing rest without guilt when I felt exhausted and the best thing I did for myself, letting go of timelines and expectations that didn't match my healing. 

    We deserve time. We deserve grace. We deserve to begin again - not to prove something, but because we are worth showing up for. You heal in your own time. If this resonates with your story too and you are someone who's still healing or have come through the other side, I'd love to know -  what is the kindest thing someone could say to you right now?